Unlovely Things (Love By Design 2)

Damien let me go and I took care of business getting ready for him. I handed him the towel and he tucked it over the bedding.

“I’m gonna take this sweet pussy and make it mine, Kristen.” With the way he was growling and nipping, you would have thought I let a wild savage into my house.

“If you pull some weird vampire shit with my cooter, I will shank you in the ball sac.” I glared over my shoulder at him.

“We can shower after; I have time to cuddle this afternoon,” he purred.

“Yeah, well, I have work so let’s wham-bam this out,” I said, protecting my fragile heart in the moment.

The last thing I wanted was to have more feelings for this playboy. I was only doing this because it made my cramps feel better and I was less homicidal post-orgasm.

I grimaced as another cramp hit me. “You’re evil and I’m dirty enough right now, just fuck me hard.” I didn’t want to think about the repercussions of our strange hookups or how we always seemed to go back for more. I bumped my ass against him, trying to nail the friction to ease the ache in my core that bordered on a cramp and ecstasy as he pressed further. He knew exactly what to give me, whether I want to admit it or not. His hands bent me over my bed and roughly pulled my yoga pants down.

“You make me evil and I happen to like you dirty.” He pulled the pants all the way down, along with my old granny panties I only wore five days out of the month, forcing me to step out of them and kicking them aside.

“You like anything with or without a heartbeat,” I panted.

He snorted. “Sue me, I’m not picky.” He bit my shoulder and then proceeded to lick the stinging skin.

“Hurry up.”

“I’m working on it, brat.” He spanked my ass hard, giving me an unexpected sting that halted any more complaints. He unbuckled his belt pulling the zipper down on his jeans. He lowered them just enough rub against

me skin to skin and my core clenched.

I was moaning from anticipation.

“Can I go bare?” he asked, breath hot against my neck killing several brain cells related to rational thought, and I was kind of shocked he wanted to.

“Really?” I paused for second, doing the math in my head. I couldn’t imagine getting pregnant right then. No, I was good, but that shouldn’t have been the reason to make an irresponsible decision.

“I’m clean, Kristen. I don’t screw around with that.” He kissed the center of my back, sending a mind-numbing shiver through me. He better not have been lying; I’d cut his dick off and feed it to the wolves.

“Me either.”

He might have thought I slept around, but I didn’t. In truth, I was a serial monogamist with his mortal enemy, but it never hurt to rile him up with questions of what if.

“Now or never. I didn’t come packing condoms, sweetheart.”

A glance to my nightstand reminded me that I was out of protection myself, and to make a note for the pharmacy next time I went. Although, if we did this it might be a moot point down the road, and I had to stop myself from thinking about it further. Is this a regular thing? Do I want it to be one? We hadn’t hooked up like this in a good long while, and we usually ended it with a good fight. Ugh.

“Yeah, do it.” Before I could finish my thought, Damien pushed through my slick folds and pumped inside, filling me.

He stretched out over my back and his hands slid up my arms, holding my hands out above my head. Fingers traced the scarring on my arm, sending erotic chills down my spine. I didn’t think scar tissue had feeling left in it, but mine did, torturing me with the past and present in one fell swoop.

“Oh God!” It felt incredible, his hard cock sliding inside of me easily from the lubrication as my tight passage allowed him to easily glide back and forth, stretching me.

I’ve never gone bare before, and it feels out of this world.

“Me either,” he said, and I realized then that I’d verbalized that out loud.

“God…” Groaning was the only audible form of communication as Damien continued to pump hard, giving me what I needed. He wasn’t gentle and sweet and he seemed to know that wasn’t what I needed right then. My perfectly fucked-up relationship with Damien Hart was nothing I wanted, but everything I needed and fought against with a valiantly failing effort.

“Not my name.”

Of course Damien wasn’t God, but his hip-thrusting felt divine when he grabbed me, driving forcefully as I rode out the pain-tinged pleasure. There was something about being so turned on right then that the cramping pain ceased and I floated to a place of pure bliss with the impending orgasm taking over.

“Give it to me,” I commanded.