Page 147 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

“Fuck,” he growls against my skin as his hips stutter. He moans once, then again, then a third time as he comes in his jeans. He’s not even sorry or embarrassed about it when he lifts his head to meet my eyes again.

He presses his brow against mine and exhales a breath across my lips. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“For being mean, or for refusing to fuck me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says.

I laugh and shake my head. “You’re really not going to have sex with me before we have to be apart for so long?”

“I shouldn’t have even done this,” he says. “Baby, you’re pretty severely injured.”

“I mean, there’s something to be said for kissing it better.”

“Yeah? You want me to kiss it better?”

I blink at him skeptically. “Yeah?”

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. I will. But you’re going to have to do a little more of the work for me, alright sweetheart?”

“O-Okay,” I say.

He lifts me higher up around his waist and turns with me in his arms, walking toward the bedroom. He lays me down on the bed and says, “Stay there.”

I let out a small laugh as he vanishes inside of my closet. When he comes back, he’s got one of my silk scarves in his hands.

“What’s that for?”

“Hands on the headboard, sweetheart,” he instructs.

I give him a curious look, and he returns it with a dotingly impatient one. “You have five seconds to do what I say before you forfeit my plans for you.”

“Alright, alright,” I say through a laugh, getting up on my knees and holding onto the headboard. He approaches and starts tying my wrists to each of the bedposts.

“What for?”

“In case you get it into your head that you need to suck my cock while you’re sitting on my face,” he says. “Today, this is a one-woman show.”

I pout as he tests the knots. “But I want to use my new piercings on you again...”

He inhales tightly, like he’d forgotten about them and now kind of wants me to use them on him, too. But he doesn’t relent. He simply checks the tightness of my bindings with two fingers under each one. “Not today,” he says, sounding almost pained.

He reaches for my shorts, pulling them down to my knees and pausing to sigh and knead my ass cheeks. “No panties?” he asks, his low voice rumbling in that way that makes my skin tingle. “Someone really thought I would let her hurt herself today.”

Two fingertips slip through the slickness that built when he had me pressed against the wall. “You’re so fucking soaked already. I can’t wait for you to ride my face until you come.”

A breeze from the cracked bedroom window brushes over my skin, making me shiver. Damien withdraws his hand and gives my ass a brutal swat that makes me yelp.

“Close to the headboard,” he instructs. I press flush to it as he arranges himself behind me, lying down and getting comfortable before he pulls my hips down onto his face. No preamble, no teasing. He unceremoniously eats me out like it’s his favorite thing to do.

“Oh, fuck. Damien,” I whimper.

I roll my hips, testing this unfamiliar position while I test the bindings on my wrists. The tug of against my silk scarves, the firm grasp of Damien’s callused hands on my hips, send a chill through me that’s so potent, my lashes flutter. I’m in heaven with the slick sensation of his mouth against my already-swollen, sensitive lips. Still, I stay hovering a bit above him. I don’t want to suffocate him and my thighs aren’t exactly slight.

He grunts underneath me after a few more seconds of my gentle face riding. His fingers dig into my ass hard enough to bruise, and pulls me down onto his face, hard. His nose nestles against the swollen bulb of my clit, his split tongue writhes lewdly inside of me. I try to lift myself off of him, but his hands remain viselike—unmovable.

“Damien I—”

He shifts my hips, dragging my cunt across his open mouth. I whimper, head falling back because it feels so fucking good. Finally I take his silent command, I grind my hips down on his mouth, a wet sound echoing from the meeting. The slick, soft feeling against my achey, overstimulated flesh feels fucking incredible.