AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Avalyne
The sexual tension between us is palpable, and all I can focus on is his tempting lips. It’s strange how you meet thousands of different people, and they make you feel nothing, but then you meet this one person that can break all your boundaries with just a single look. Damien is that one person whom, even though I know absolutely nothing about, I am ready to surrender everything to fulfill my desire–desire of wanting him.
“Damien…,” I whisper into his exhale. He softly brushes his lips against mine, letting me feel a tantalizing sensation of his taste before he, totally satisfied, steps back, leaving me with that mischievous smirk. Such an asshole.
He rubs his hand through his dark black hair. I watch as a few disobedient pieces fall back onto his forehead.
“Should we watch a movie or something?” He asks with a little too much enthusiasm.
I feel the snarkiness crawl up and escape my lips. “Or something.”
Maybe it’s the frustration of being sexually attracted to a man I know nothing about, but I feel out of control. That’s exactly what I wanted, though, right?
He chuckles.But wait, is that nervous laughter?I take a few steps toward him, and his eyes find mine. He pauses and goes completely still.
“Do I make you nervous, Mr. Alarie?” I ask and rub my tongue along my bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth. Damien easily towers over me by at least 8 inches, and the way his gaze drops down every time he looks at me is so tempting, I can hardly control myself. I rake my nails across his toned abs hidden beneath the woolen fabric of his tight, white shirt, causing every single muscle to tense. I won’t lie. I like the effect my touch has on him.
“Come on. Follow me. We’re going to watch a movie just like you want,” I give him a provocative smile, and he chuckles, shaking his head. I gently graze my fingernails down his arm to take hold of his hand before leading him to the couch. I know his gaze is glued to my butt, so I sway my hips a little too much, giving him the show that he wants.
We’re 58 minutes into Twilight, and Damien slides his hand around my arms. We sit in the corner of the ecru sofa, covered with a cream and white-colored sherpa blanket. I rest myself against Damien’s broad, warm chest, which for some reason, feels like home. It’s odd because I’ve only known him for a few days, yet I can see him being my Edward, and myself, his Bella. I can picture us fighting against the world, every obstacle, contradiction to win an eternity together.
His raspy voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Is it what girls like?”
“What?” I turn to face him.
“A man like him.”
“Edward?” I ask.
“Yeah. You know, that mysterious, cold, unavailable for anyone until that one girl shows up, breaking all the boundaries he’s ever had.” Damien says mockingly, and I chuckle.
“Yes, that’s what we want.”That’s how I see you.
“Cliché, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “But this is what makes the girl feel special. And, don’t we all want to be special to someone?”
He shrugs while looking deeply into my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Have you ever had this?” I whisper, still gazing into unreadable eyes.
“Had what exactly?”
“What they have. Edward and Bella. That one in a lifetime kind of love.” I ask, and suddenly Damien looks away.
He runs his teeth over his bottom lip, and he seems deep in thought. Or rather memories. I feel an unpleasant pinch in my chest, figuring out he’s been in love.
Maybe he still is?
“I don’tdolove, Avalyne,” he sets his eyes back on me and says coldly, yet it doesn’t sound convincing enough to me. It’s evident his past experiences have caught up with him, and it’s clear… he’s been in love. Do you know how I know that? The pain on his face gives him away. As they say… ‘Only love can hurt like this…’
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I say sarcastically, and he smirks.
“You think you know it all, huh?” He teases, grabbing my thighs and pulling me down the couch so that I’m lying down, and he hops over me. He moves my hands over my head and holds them with one of his hands. He brushes away a few unruly strands that fall on my forehead, gazing deeply into my eyes. My chest is rising up and down heavily, caging my pumping heart.
“You know, Firefly, I like you more when you don’t talk,” he says, trying to fight back the smile inexorably showing off on his face before he tickles me, and I can’t hold back the laughter.
“Oh no, you did not!” We start tickling each other, which leads to a pillow fight. The room fills with so much laughter this house doesn’t witness, probably ever since my mother’s death.
