“You don't have to do anything but lay there.” He pushes his way inside. “And let me convince you that we’re meant to be together.” He crowds my personal space, whispering in my ear. “I’ll use my mouth and won’t even need to say one word while I do.”
My knees almost buckle from the erotic implication, from his heady smell, and the closeness of his warm body.
I want to fight him. My brain is telling me to say no, but my body — oh, my fucking traitorous body! — wants everything he is willing to give.
It doesn't need to mean anything, I convince myself. It’s just sex. Purely physical. And what happens in Vegas is staying Vegas.
I give in.
“Fine,” I strain, giving Damon the permission he’s seeking. His mouth is on mine half a second later. He isn’t wasting the opportunity. I succumb the moment our lips touch. I want him. I want him to keep his word and use his mouth for every dirty promise he’s ever made me.
We strip off our clothes at an alarming rate. My head spinning from the aftereffects of the alcohol and need coursing through my veins. It’s the ammunition inciting my desire.
When he pushes me down on bed, it’s full steam ahead. He devours every naked inch of me, his restlessness apparent.
“I can’t stop thinking about your body.” Moving with calculated precision, he kisses his way down my neck, stopping to suck on one of my nipples before continuing his journey south, over my quivering torso, landing on the forbidden fruit right between my thighs.
Damon knows what he wants and is going straight for it. The first lap of his tongue over my clit has me throbbing. I want him so bad. I want this so bad. I pant and squirm as he licks incessantly, the pressure of his mouth and span of his tongue reaching every tender part of me. I moan freely, welcoming the indulgence. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I rock my hips, enhancing and escalating the buildup of pleasure.
“Damon,” I sigh his name as my lower abdomen begins to tighten, my clit tingles, and pussy aches. My orgasm comes on faster than I anticipated, but I don’t fight it. I go with it, chasing the white rabbit down the dark hole where ecstasy lives.
There’s no stopping the downward slide once it begins. My body locks in a crunch position as the climax arrests me. Sliding my slick pussy back and forth against Damon’s stiff tongue, I climb the highest peak of pleasure until I reach the top and swan dive right over the edge.
Every inch of me is quivering, pounding, and bleeding sweet, sweet agony as I’m engulfed in the most euphoric flame of sexual delirium.
It’s so real and so intense, I startle myself awake.
“Holy shit.” I fly forward off the pillow as the fire between my legs slowly dies down.
“You were moaning my name.”
I swing my head around, still panting, to find Damon lying right beside me.
“How the fuck did you get in here?”
“Ky gave me a key,” he says as if it's no big deal. “The room is in his name.”
“That’s great. You can leave now.” I pull my shit together, suppressing the wet dream that nearly destroyed me.
“Not a chance. I want to know what you were dreaming about.” His bright blue eyes sparkle with perverse curiosity.
“Nothing that concerns you.” Like hell I’m going to share that repressed desire.
“I beg to differ. You should have heard how you were saying my name.”
“I was trying to kill you, okay?” I toss out an absurd lie.
“I think it was me who was trying to kill you.” He licks his lips salaciously, and my hormones respond all too easily.
Fuck this. My body and mind need to get on the same page. I slide off the mattress in a hurry.
“Where are you running off to?” Damon sits up, gloriously half naked. His arms, chest, and stomach covered with tattoos and rippling with muscles.
“The bathroom. You can see yourself out.”
“Liv.” His vulnerable tone stops me.
“What?” I turn and cross my arms, trying my damnedest to ignore how delectable he looks in my bed. Fighting the urge to climb back under the covers and live out the dream that was so lifelike in my subconscious.
