Page 138 of Damián

It is driving me absolutely insane, completely burning away every coherent thought in my head.

“Dami,” I gasp, tears running down my cheeks at how good and cathartic this pleasure feels. “Dami, I’m going to—”

The moment he realizes I’m at the edge, he pulls out, grips my shoulders, and flips me onto my back again.

“What?”

“You said your favorite position was looking into your partner’s eyes,” he says, as he settles over me in missionary and pushes back inside. “I want you to cum on your first time just how you wanted it.”

Damián kisses me, looking deep into my eyes as he keeps thrusting until he completely shatters me. I scream his name, my climax ripping through me in intense, violent waves, spilling hot across my own stomach.

“Fuck, Ollie,” Damián groans. He thrusts one, two, three more times, chasing his own release.

He pulls out, quickly stripping off the condom, and strokes himself rapidly. His hooded eyes stay locked onto mine the entire time as he finishes over my chest.

Completely spent, he collapses over me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. A second later, he rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him so he doesn’t crush me with his weight.

And we lie there tangled in the damp sheets, our bodies slick with sweat, chests heaving together as we struggle to catch our breath.

“Wow…” I pant. “That was incredible… Is sex always this amazing?”

Damián pulls me tighter against his side and laughs. “Yes. But only with me.”

“Only with you?” I ask, tilting my chin to look at him.

“Yes. I’m magical. So there is absolutely no need for you to ever try anyone else.”

I burst out laughing, overwhelmed by how perfect this moment is.

“Thank you…” I whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his chest. “This was perfect.”

“Almost perfect, mi cielo…” he murmurs, giving me a new nickname which I have no idea what it means, but I love how it sounds.

And when I look up at him, silently questioning what he means, he smiles.

“It will be perfect after a shower and breakfast.”

“Oh, my God, yes!”

Now, an hour later, we are both collapsed on Damián’s living room couch, dressed in comfortable sweats and stuffed with breakfast. The food was cold by the time we got to it, but right now, it tastes like the best meal of my life.

“Can I ask something personal?” he asks, his finger lazily tracing circles on my knee.

“Sure. What do you wanna know?”

“How… Did your father tell you what he does? Did he just let you know, or was it like in the movies where they threw a party with cigars before breaking the news?”

“I wouldn’t know how it’s done because he never told me… I found out.”

“How?”

“With a stupid black book.” I sigh, shaking my head… It’s stupid, but even after all these years, that book is still in my nightmares.

“Sorry… Let’s not talk about sad things. Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s just that I’ve never told anyone besides Zara… But I want you to know.”

I shift, lying down to use his lap as a pillow, and Damián rests one arm across my waist, using his free hand to play with my hair.