I reach my arm around his waist and pull him back towards me, so my dick is pressed against the globes of his ass. I move my hips slowly from side to side, wedging my hard cock in his crack, and trace the contour of the raven on his back with my forefinger. I trace every line, every shadow. I do it until his breathing quickens and grows unpredictable. By the time I trace the raven’s tail feathers, his lower back has broken out into gooseflesh and his hands are fisted at his sides.
I lean in to kiss his neck again and as I do it, he reaches up and crushes my face against his. He kisses my cheek and my jaw hungrily, nipping and biting when I don’t offer him my mouth.
“Demon,” he rasps. “Demon, possess me.”
His words land with the force of a punch. I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m unable to un-hear them, or to un-feel them. My teeth sink into the meat of his shoulder and my fingers dig into his back and his hips, desperately grasping at any part of him I can reach. I step away from him quickly, trying to come back to my senses.
This time it has to be different. I want to make him feel good and I don’t want to lose control and fuck him roughly. I want to make him feel the way he’s made me feel every time he’s ever touched me. I walk to my bedside table and when I feel his eyes on me, I give an exaggerated little sway of my ass. He makes a soft, helpless sound.
I love that sound. I want to hear it again. I want to hear it over and over until neither one of us can move.
I grab the lube and make myself comfortable. I drape myself on the bed as seductively as I can. “Come lie with me, Joey.”
I don’t need to tell him twice. He bounds over and all but flings himself onto the bed beside me, making me bounce and have to fight to regain my composure. I try not to laugh at his enthusiasm, but I can’t help it. His eyes are sparkling. They’re soft. Filled with good things. Good things and bad things. Just how I like them.
I push him onto his back and lean over him.
“D’you know, when I got home after the lake house, I was covered in marks you left on my body?”
“I do know that,” he mumbles, snapping at my jaw with lips and teeth. “I did it to piss you off.”
“Don’t lie.” I run my hand down his belly, inching my palm past his cock, smiling as it lurches toward me. “I know why you did it, and that isn’t it.”
“Fine. I did it because I wanted…I did it so you’d see it,” his voice catches, “and you’d think of me.”
“Well, it worked. I did see them.” I give him a filthy look. “I stood naked in front of the mirror every day and watched them fade. I remember every one of them.” His expression is unreadable. Infinite regret, or the exact opposite. I can’t tell as it’s clouded with a kind of longing that drowns everything else out. “Do you remember where they were?”
“I remember.”
“Show me.” He reaches up and touches my collar bone lightly. “No. Show me on you.” He swallows and draws a quick line on his upper chest. I sink my mouth onto him, licking and sucking the skin he pointed to. I do it until he groans, and his skin is purple and angry when I release it. “Where else?”
He lets his hand fall to the deep V that runs from his torso to his groin. He groans again when I start moving my head down. His teeth clamp down onto his bottom lip to stop the sound but it’s no use, that sound is followed by another louder, more desperate sound.
“Damon,” he wheezes. “Damon, please.”
I follow his hand, kissing softly and kissing with teeth. His dick is red and engorged. A silvery web has leaked from it and formed a tiny pool on his belly. I lean over it. His eyes beg in full sentences. I understand every word. I understand his need. I feel my own, too. My need is starting to trip up my thoughts and my actions. I press his hips down with both hands and lower my mouth to his cock. Closer, closer. I stop at the last second and instead of sucking him into my mouth, I blow a soft breath along his shaft.
The world tilts on its axis and turns upside down. I was on top a split-second ago, now I’m flat on my back, looking straight into the eyes of a wild, angry Saint. He’s panting, taking big, open-mouth breaths. He spits into his hand and shoves his fingers roughly between my legs. My knees fall open and my hips arc up off the bed as he does it. He uses two fingers at once and he isn’t gentle. He reaches into me with thick, blunt fingers. Soft tissue and tight muscle are forced to give way. The room fills with a long, mournful whine. It sounds exactly like something that was born in the fieriest pits of hell.
“I lost.” His voice is broken. “You won. I concede.I need it.” I’m gratified that I’m not the only one whining. “Please, Demon, give it up. Give it to me.”
I was planning on enjoying my moment. I was toying with the idea of gloating a little. Not much, but definitely a little. I try to taunt him. I move my mouth, but no sound comes out. I try again, punctuating the silence with nothing more than a frustrated groan. I won, but not by a lot. I can’t speak, so I open my legs. I pull them back, tucking my hands behind my knees and hugging them to my chest.
He moans and shivers as he coats himself with lube, and then he enters me so hard and fast I cry out loudly in pleasure and shock. He drops down onto me, heavy, clumsy, nowhere near as coordinated as he usually is. He’s far from calm. Far from collected. He slides into me, and I rock my hips up to meet him. I let go of my legs and wrap them around his waist instead, locking my ankles together so he has no hope of escape.
We move together like something that’s crazed.
Something mad.
Something possessed.
The sounds I make when he slams into me ring out through the apartment. They’re desperate. Frantic. I should hate them, but I don’t because he answers every sound I make with one of his own. Every thrust brings us closer to our peak. Our bodies collide and sweat and slap together when we connect. It’s a wild, lustful fuck. The wildest, most lustful fuck I’ve had in my life. It’s fast. Ferocious. I grab hold of my dick and jack it feverishly. It feels raw. Like a big, exposed nerve. I arch and buck from the pleasure he hammers into me. It doesn’t last long. His hips start to stutter, and he throws his head back, mouth gaping open, screaming silently and then not silently at all. I feel the tell-tale twitch, that deep, intense pulse, a quick pause and then the hot gush of his seed coating my guts. My orgasm hits me from the front, and the side, and the back. It rips through my body, curling my toes, raising my spine off the bed. It reaches inside me and squeezes spasmodically. Again. Again. It squeezes until my vision fades. Every cell in my body is electrified. Shocked. I see nothing. Hear nothing. Taste nothing. Feel nothing.
Nothing but Saint.
Chapter 34
Saint
