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I untied her arms, massaged her shoulders briefly, and flipped her over, placing her into the doggy style position so I could put my solid dick into her and feel her juices on my cock. She did as she was told and kept her ass up and her head down for me, panting like she was running a marathon, and I groaned in ecstasy as I got the perfect view from behind while I fucked her wet pussy.
I lasted about ten minutes, fucking her hard and fast. I held back when I could, slowing down my tempo to tease her and prolong the inevitable, but when she began pushing her ass back to take me, adding in her breathless moans, I came in a rush that I couldn’t withhold. She was the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’d ever been with, and that was saying a lot.
Her panting sent me over the edge. I came in wild, breathy grunts and felt like it was the best sex I’d ever had. Her tight pussy was so wet and stimulating, so sweet and tight, and her body was raw and satisfying. It was one of my most memorable nights. This was going to be my favorite new addiction, one that I never wanted to recover from.
Chapter 18
Karly
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. A broad grin covered my face, and I surely had a glint in my eye. Pure bliss. I rolled over and threw my arm over Damon’s hot body and noticed he was also awake.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I murmured.
“Are you calling me sleepyhead? It’s me who’s awake first and making the coffee,” he replied, rolling over to meet me halfway.
Our hands fumbled and we linked our fingers. Damon edged his head closer. We lay there together on the comfy pillows and tenderly kissed. It was the first kiss of another glorious day.
I giggled and threw my leg over Damon. “You can still make the coffee. It just means I’ll be there watching instead of having an extra ten minutes or so.” I felt the heat of Damon’s body under the bedsheet. It’d be nice to feel his body a bit more before breakfast, but there was no chance this morning.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Damon said as he propped himself up on his hand and slipped the bedsheet down to my waist. His fingers traced a line up my arm and over my bare shoulders. I shuddered. I shuddered a lot.
“What is it? Nothing too serious I hope,” I said.
Damon shook his head as he caressed my bare skin. “Not at all. I was going to say you’re only the second woman to share this bed with me.”
I pushed his hand away. “You have a good way of ruining a nice moment,” I said in a soft but slightly pissed-off tone.
“The first was…” He paused, and I wedged my fingers in my ears. “Alexis. She’s the only other female who’s shared this bed.”
I pulled my fingers from my ears. I stared into his eyes for a hint of a lie. I didn’t notice one. “What are you trying to say? You just never brought women home with you? Is that it?”
Damon furrowed his brow. It was as if someone had pulled the drawstring on a backpack. He said that wasn’t what he was trying to say at all. The reality was apparently different from my perception of the situation.
“It’s true. Alexis used to snuggle up beside me when she was scared of the thunder and lightning or if she had a bad dream, and that’s it,” he replied. “As for not bringing women home, I never even slept with any in another location.”
“Bullshit!” I quipped.
I’d heard rumors, and he was forever in the tabloids with a woman hanging off his arm at some star-studded event or while entering a nightclub. The press didn’t call him Playboy Number One for no reason. They might’ve convoluted the truth a little, but to get the entire scenario so wrong was just impossible. Wasn’t it?
Damon sat up and placed his hand on his heart. “I swear on the Bib—”
I raised my finger and said, “Not on the Bible. Plenty of people do that and mean nothing by it.”
Damon huffed and exhaled. “I swear on Alexis’s life that I, Damon, have never slept with another woman since…” He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Since?” I asked in a soft voice.
“Since my wife died.” Damon’s eyes welled up, and I ached at how painful the memory of his wife’s passing was to him.
Perhaps the media did get it all wrong. But what about all the glamorous women hanging on his arm?
“I’ve seen you in the papers with lots of women,” I said.
Damon tightened his lips and smiled briefly. “Escorts. They’re tight-lipped, and they never use their real names. The more I can keep my private life out of the press, the better.”
