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I’d spend the next week in agony, desperate for release. On top of everything, it was in the middle of Fashion Week, so projected the cranky model stigma to a ‘T.’”
“Asshole. I will take care of it myself then,” I shot back.
“I’d like to see you try. We both know the only way this cunt of yours”—with his other hand, he parted my fold, stroking back and forth—“will ever find satisfaction is if I administer the orgasm.”
“You think too highly of yourself.”
He thrust three fingers into my pussy, making my back bow.
“Your hand, your toys, nothing will make you come like I can.” He pumped in and out in a rhythm meant to push me to the edge but not send me over. “I’ve ruined you for self-administered satisfaction.”
“Bastard.”
“Even so. It’s still the truth.”
“I admit to nothing.”
“Of course not. However, it doesn’t change the facts.”
“What facts?” I lifted my hips to meet his fingers' demands, wanting so much more.
“Your sweet virgin cunt was all mine. I popped that cherry. I popped all your cherries. My cock branded every part of you. Your pleasure comes at my command.”
He scissored his digits inside me to prove his point, causing a delicious sting. My breath grew shallow, and how he held my neck drove my arousal higher and higher.
My pussy quivered as it flooded his hand with my desire, then spasms shot through me, followed by hard contractions. Just as I reached the precipice of what I craved, he withdrew.
“No, I hate you.”
“Do you?”
“No, I don’t hate you.”
He gripped my waist and scraped his teeth along the back of my shoulder, hard enough to sting without breaking the skin. “Tell me you can find this same thing with someone else.”
He had to be kidding. There wasn’t anyone like Damon Pierce. From the moment our eyes connected across Lucian’s club, I was lost.
He’d seduced me with one look and turned my world upside down. His touch, his taste, his sheer presence. There was no one else like him.
Releasing my throat, he walked us backward until we reached a stone bench. He pulled me astride him as he sat, my back to his front. He splayed wide apart, setting them over each of his, exposing my swollen, aching pussy completely.
His thick, long, beautiful erection bobbed underneath me, a heavy presence, telling me how aroused he was. Heavy beads of precum dripped from the tip, and my pussy contracted at the sight.
Damon fisted my hair, jerking my head and bringing my attention to his face. At the same time, he thrust deep and hard back into me, curving his fingers, rubbing along the bundle of nerves so sensitive I could barely breathe when he touched them.
I bucked and rolled my hips, lost in the torrent of pleasure pushing to the surface.
My nails scored his forearms as I bit my bottom lip and clenched my eyes tight.
“I should hate you for making me feel the way you do.”
“But you don’t.”
“No. I don’t. I’m desperate. Don’t make me wait.”
“What is it that you feel, Sophia?”
He knew. It was in my eyes when they brought him out of the holding area after they took him in for questioning. I was sure I’d revealed even before that.
