He dragged off my tee, whipped off my bra, and shoved down my jeans and panties. I didn’t get a chance to strip his own clothes, I only got as far as snapping open his fly before he hoisted me up and kissed me again.
I grunted as my back met the wall, and then my legs were hooked over the crooks of his elbows. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” But I curled my arms around him and tilted my hips toward the thick head of his dick as it bumped my slick folds.
“I know, but I gotta have you again.” He rammed his cock inside me.
A gasp got stuck in my throat. Jesus, the dude packed some serious heat. There was no way for it not to burn as my inner muscles stretched around his long, thick shaft, so I couldn’t bite back the little whimper that slipped out of me.
“Shh, baby, I got you.” Then he was pounding into me like he just couldn’t wait any longer. He drove so deep, so hard, so fast—aggressive and unrestrained. “Yeah, that’s what I needed.” He groaned. “You feel so fucking good.”
So did he. I’d never felt so utterly filled. There didn’t seem to be a spot he didn’t touch. I felt every ridge and vein as he dragged his cock over supersensitive nerve-endings. And there was something about knowing we absolutely should not be doing this that made it all even hotter, so I was obviously whacked in the head.
“You needed this, too,” he gritted out. “You like having my dick in you, don’t you?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t want to like it.”
“But you do. You can’t help it.” He claimed my mouth again. Possessed it. Imprinted his fucking self on it, the bastard. “I want my come filling you up again, Lex. Make that happen for me.” He sank his teeth into my throat.
The slice of pain, the pull of his mouth, the feral slams of his cock … it all became too much. My release crashed into me, stealing my breath, bowing my back, and making my inner walls clamp around his shaft. It was blissful, it was explosive, it was devastating. I only absently noted Damien jamming his dick deep as jets of come burst out of him.
I collapsed forward, resting my head on his shoulder as my breaths sawed at my dry throat. Jesus holy Christ.
He nuzzled my hair, his own breathing not quite steady. “I’m staying here again.”
I didn’t lift my head to look at him. I couldn’t. Because if he looked in my eyes right then while my defences were down, he’d see how much I wanted that. Probably see far more.
I swallowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “But I’m still staying.”
And because I apparently had no willpower when it came to him, I didn’t protest when he carried me to bed.
As we lay facing each other a few hours later, shortly after another round of non-wise sex, we quietly talked about inconsequential things—nothing deep, nothing serious, nothing too personal. So I was more than a little surprised when he abruptly blurted out, “You hinted that your old life wasn’t great. Will you tell me about it?”
I bit my lip, hesitant. We shouldn’t be getting to know each other, we should be giving each other a little space until the chemistry died off. But apparently I was all into doing unwise shit tonight, because instead of blowing off his question, I warned, “Much like how I came to be at The Hollow, it’s not really an interesting story.”
“I’d still like to hear it.”
“Do I get to ask you a question afterward?” I asked, expecting him to say something like ‘It depends on the question.’
He shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, if you want.”
Fair enough. I took a slow breath. “Back then, I wasn’t in a good place. Mentally or physically. I kind of messed up. Big time.”
His brow creased. “In what sense?”
“I had a plan, but it didn’t work out. And then I was just lost.”
“What kind of plan?”
“It was really pretty simple. A family, a steady job, a home in a nice neighbourhood.”
“You wanted what you didn’t have growing up,” he guessed, the observant bastard.
“Yes. My mom isn’t a terrible person. Just very self-centred, and she could never handle being alone, so she’d drift from one loser to another and drag me with her. I never really had a home. Or a family. I never knew my dad. And my mom’s family wanted nothing to do with her, and she wanted nothing to do with them, so they had no interest in me either.”
“Then they were stupid.”
I let out a short chuckle. “Anyway, what I wanted more than anything was kids. So I was, like, over the moon when I got pregnant. But then I was in a car accident. I miscarried, and there was a lot of internal damage. I couldn’t have kids after that.” I swallowed around the lump that built in my throat. “So my whole life plan suddenly got derailed. Especially since my boyfriend left me soon after.”