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Caught in Us (Lost 3)

Page 47

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"I can't. My plane leaves tomorrow at noon."

"If you can't stay, then promise me you'll return as soon as school finishes."

She's shaking badly, so I pull her tight in my arms, inhaling the scent of strawberry coming from her hair.

"I promise I will return when I'm able to love you the way you deserve," I say.

"I just want you to promise me you'll come back."

"Only after I get my shit together."

Pulling away from my arms, she says, "I don't want—”

"Just let me finish, okay?" My voice is undependable, but this is it. If I don't say this now, I won't say it at all. I've thought about this since he told me he's sending me away, repeating the words over and over in my head. "When I met you, I was on a cliff, Dani. Thanks to you, I didn't fall over the edge, and I'll never be able to repay you for that. I'm grateful to you, and I love you, but I need to figure everything out on my own."

There was more I wanted to say, but I can't bring myself to, not when she looks at me with wide, fearful eyes, begging me to stop. I kiss her again, and in this kiss, I try to put everything I can't say, because we'll both break. This girl did more for me than she'll ever know. She saved me, and I don't want to repay her by ruining her life. I make myself the promise to return for her. I know this isn't a high school crush, because I’ve had enough of those. This is different, stronger; I'd bleed for this girl.

"Your hour’s up. Out."

The idiot's voice forces us apart, and Dani discreetly wipes her tears away. We walk back to her house in silence, our fingers intertwined. When we reach the gates, I fully intend to kiss her one last time and leave.

Then she says, "Spend the night with me," and I know I will.

Chapter Twenty-One: Dani

The party hasn't died down when we return, but there are fewer people around. If we walk through the front door, my parents could see us. We climb in my room through the window, like we did the first night he came here.

"Dani, are you sure about this?" Damon asks once we're inside.

"Yes."

"I don't—”

"Shh, no talking. No goodbyes." I look him straight in the eyes until he nods.

I fumble with the lace at my back, trying to open my dress, but I pull at the wrong end and it becomes a tangled mess. It doesn't help that my fingers are trembling.

"Here, let me do that," Damon says, but his hands tremble slightly, too. He's better than me at this and before long, my back and shoulders are exposed. He kisses my neck then continues down my spine, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. A shot of breath heats my skin when he pushes my dress down my waist. "You're not wearing a bra," he mutters more to himself than me, continuing to kiss my back, one of his hands traveling to my chest. I gasp when he cups one breast, grazing my nipple with his palm. Then he promptly turns me around. My first instinct is to cover my breasts, but he catches my wrists mid-air, shaking his head. His green eyes locked on mine, he tilts his head down, taking my nipple gently between his teeth. I draw in a lungful of air, hyper-aware of the wetness pooling between my thighs. It's the most erotic moment of my life. Not breaking eye contact, he pushes the dress all the way down, and I step out of it.

Damon lays me on the bed, kissing me, sliding his arms around me in a tender embrace. His lips tug at mine, prompting delicious impulses through my body. Gradually, his kisses become more demanding. He lures them out of me with a vengeance, claiming each one with more desperation. His hands roam over my hips and thighs, awakening every cell in my body, infusing his desperation in them until I burn for him with such an intensity it almost hurts. I fist his hair, guiding his lips to the places that demand to be touched and kissed. I want to be touched. God, I need it so. When Damon cups my breast again, it almost sends me over the edge. His lips trail down my chest, my stomach, stopping right below my navel. He remains there, blowing hot breaths on my oversensitized skin. All I can concentrate on is the fact that his fingers linger close to the hem of my panties. Next, he slides his tongue up my inner thigh toward my lace thong. Unexpectedly, he places his lips right on the spot where the fabric is wet. I groan in response, and I feel him smile against me. His hands find their way to the hem of my underwear, and he peers up at me as if asking for my permission. I give a silent nod, my palms suddenly sweaty.

"Do you want me to kiss you here, Dani?" He strokes me once over the part of my panties that I completely soaked through, reducing me to shu

dders.

"Yes," I barely whisper. I sigh when he removes the panties, his cheeks touching my inner thighs. Then he kisses the skin there gently, going higher and higher, stopping at the juncture of my thigh and my intimate spot. His lips rest there while his fingers touch my wetness, coaxing a whimper out of me.

"Fuck," he growls. "Dani."

He touches me gently again, prompting tremors to spread in my entire body. "Damon, please." I’m pulsing with life, with the need for him and his touch. When his tongue lashes against my intimate spot, I fist the sheets, moaning harder than I ever have. He continues the delicious ministrations, every lap of his tongue threatening to send me into overdrive, spurring a million sensations that build up and up and up until I can take no more. The pit inside me grows mercilessly. His tongue should please me. Instead, I grow more insatiable. My breath hitches as a new sensation ratchets through me, starting from somewhere very deep inside me.

"Don't stop," I hear myself pleading. My hips buck forward, driven by a will of their own and a devastating need. I feel one of his hands cupping my breast with greed. He holds my nipple between his fingers, twisting it gently while swooping his tongue across my clit, spurring tremors out of me. Then he does something that is both torment and relief. He dips his tongue slightly inside me while his upper lip rests on my clit. The movement of his tongue drives me restless—in and out, in and out—daring me to imagine how it would feel like if he made love to me. Release shoots through me, racing like lighting, consuming me. I desperately grab the pillow next to me, bringing it to my mouth and biting into it as Damon delivers the stroke that brings on the ravaging orgasm.

I lay with my eyes closed and breathe in deeply when I feel Damon's lips traveling upward until he reaches my neck.

"This was incredible," he murmurs.

"Yes." As he kisses me, I become aware of his erection pressing against my thigh. It strains against his pants, and Damon pushes himself against me, prompting a groan that reverberates from deep inside my chest. The spot between my thighs is soaked anew, a deep craving awakening. Damon stills, his breath wheezing out of him.



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