Every slide in and out sends jolts of pleasure through me, his cock hitting spots that make stars burst behind my eyelids. I claw at his back, nails digging into muscle, urging him deeper. He fucks me with abandon, skin slapping against skin, the room filled with our gasps and moans.
But he pulls out suddenly, leaving me empty and whining. Before I can protest, he’s sliding down my body, mouth latching onto my pussy. His tongue dives in, lapping at my folds, tasting our combined arousal. A part of me screams that this is Damon’s mouth on me.
Guilt flickers, but it’s smothered when he cups my breast, thumb flicking my nipple in time with his licks.
He spits on my clit, the warm wetness mixing with my slick, then sucks it between his lips. I cry out, hips grinding against his face as he devours me, tongue flicking relentlessly. The pressure builds fast, coiling tighter.
When he stands, his cock is slick with my juices, smearing across his stomach as it bobs. His body gleams with sweat, every muscle defined and tense, gray eyes locked on mine.
“I want you,” he says, voice rough with need.
“Yes,” I breathe, reaching for him.
He thrusts back in, harder this time, setting a punishing rhythm. His mouth finds my neck, sucking hard enough to leave faint bite marks, tongue soothing the sting. I wrap my legs around him, meeting every snap of his hips.
“Gonna come on your stomach,” he warns between licks, teeth grazing my skin. But his thrusts grow erratic, deeper, the base of his cock swelling.
“More,” I beg, lost in the haze. “Damon, please, more.”
“Oh fuck,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt. “I’m sorry. I can’t?—”
His knot catches, locking us together as he comes, hot spurts filling me. Regret flashes in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop, grinding against me, rubbing that swollen knot right where I need it. I shatter around him, waves of pleasure crashing through me, my body shivering with aftershocks.
He rolls us to the side, still joined, his arms pulling me close. I meet his gaze, those stormy eyes soft now, filled with unspoken apologies. I want to stay awake, to beg for more, to chase this feeling forever. But exhaustion tugs at me, the heat finally ebbing.
Damon kisses me softly. First my lips, then my cheeks, my nose… tender presses that make my heart ache. My eyes drift shut, sleep claiming me as his warmth surrounds me.
His tongue is rough against my cheek.
I make a sound that barely qualifies as a noise and turn my face away, burrowing instinctively into the pillow, until the licking persists with stubborn determination. Something sharp and familiar presses against my skin, followed by a low, insistent chirrup.
I crack one eye open.
Yellow-green eyes stare back at me, unblinking and judgmental.
“Oh,” I croak. “It’s you.”
Thistle’s whiskers twitch. He sits on my chest like he owns the place, tail wrapped neatly around his paws, black fur glossy in the early light filtering through the curtains. He leans forward and licks my cheek again, slower this time, like he’s checking that I’m real.
“Okay,” I murmur. “I’m awake.”
My voice sounds different. Raw, yes, but not wrecked. My head doesn’t feel like it’s full of cotton. My skin isn’t screaming anymore. The buzzing that had lived under my bones for what felt like forever is gone.
I push myself up on my elbows.
The movement sends a long, aching stretch through my body, one that pulls a breath out of me whether I want it or not.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
Everything hurts.
Not the panicked pain from before. This is deeper. Muscle-deep. A slow, blooming soreness that reminds me very clearly of what happened, even before my memory fully catches up. My thighs ache. My back protests. There’s a dull throb between myhips that makes me press my lips together and breathe through it.
Thistle hops off the bed and lands without a sound, circling once before settling near my feet. I swing my legs over the side of the mattress and pause.
The sheets are clean.
That registers immediately.
