“You okay?”
“Yes,” I murmur, wrapping my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He groans, low and deep, as he bottoms out inside me. “Fuck, Marley. You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect. Made for me.”
I can’t form words. I can only whimper as he starts to move. Slow at first, shallow thrusts that let me get used to him, but each one hits something deep inside that makes my toes curl.
“More,” I finally manage, digging my nails deeper into his back. “Nitro, please, I need more.”
Something shifts in his eyes, that careful control fracturing, and his next thrust is harder, deeper. “Like that?”
“Fuck yes!” The words come out as a moan. “Just like that.”
He sets a rhythm, powerful and steady, and I feel every muscle in his body working. The corded tension in his forearmswhere they bracket my head, the flex of his abs, the way his thighs drive him forward. He’s so much bigger than me, could overpower me completely, but instead, he’s reading every sound I make, every shift of my body, adjusting his angle. The pressure builds inside me, building, the way he moves, trying to hit the perfect—oh fuck!
“Oh God!” My back arches, my head throws back as my body ignites.
“There it is.” His voice is rough, strained. “That’s where you need me, isn’t it, baby?”
“Yes, yes, right there!” I’m babbling, coherence abandoned as pleasure builds again.
He shifts his weight to one arm, using his free hand to slide between our bodies, finding my clit with his thumb. “I want to feel you come around my cock. I want you to squeeze me while I’m buried deep inside you.”
The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless drive of his hips pushes me closer to the edge. My pussy is clenching around him, and I feel his control starting to slip.
“That’s it,” he groans, circling my clit faster. “Come for me, Marley. Let go… look at me,” he commands suddenly, and my eyes fly open, locking with his. “I want to see you when you come apart. Want to see those pretty eyes go hazy when you come all over my cock.”
The intensity of his gaze, the filth of his words, the perfect pressure on my clit, is all too much.
The pleasure crests, breaking over me like a tidal wave. My body locks up, every muscle tensing as my orgasm tears through me. “Damon!” I scream, vaguely aware of crying out his real name, my walls clamping down around him so tightly he curses.
“Fuck, yes, just like that.” He’s still moving, drawing it out, prolonging the waves of pleasure that crash through me. “You’re squeezing me so good, baby. You feel so fucking perfect.”
I can barely breathe, overwhelmed by sensation, by the feeling of him still hard and thick inside me, by the way my body is pulsing and clenching around him in aftershocks.
“I can’t…” His rhythm falters, becoming erratic. “Marley, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me,” I whisper, finding his lips with mine. “I want to feel it.”
His groan is muffled against my mouth as he drives deep one last time. “Fuuuck!” He moans, his body tense as he unloads, his body pulsing, his entire body going rigid, trembling, every muscle locked. His forehead drops to mine, our breathing ragged and mingled, our hearts racing in sync. The way his abs contract with each wave, the way his fingers tighten on my hip hard enough to bruise.
Utterly.
Perfect.
We stay like this for a long moment, neither of us willing to break the connection. Finally, he eases out carefully, and I whimper at the loss. He presses a kiss to my forehead before disappearing to deal with the condom.
When he returns, he pulls me close, arranging me against his side so my head rests in the crook of his shoulder. His heart racing against his chest, gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm that somehow matches my own.
His fingers trace idle patterns on my shoulder, and I’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so completely satisfied.
“You okay?” he finally murmurs into my hair.
“More than okay.” I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “That was…”
“Yeah.” I hear the smile in his voice. “It really was.”
We lie here in comfortable silence, and I trace the tattoos covering his chest. A skull with roses. Latin words I don’t understand. Dates, names, and symbols that tell his story.
