Somehow we finally made it to my bed, where again we couldn’t keep our hands off one another. I don’t know what is wrong with us. I think we have a problem. This sex thing is addictive. No, it’s Daman that’s addictive. The possessive words he says to me along with how he works my body has me craving more. At times his words sounded dark but were also laced with sweetness. It wasn’t a darkness that I was afraid of or one that would hurt me. It stirred something inside of me that I never knew was there.
Now I’m awake and can’t seem to help myself when I feel his hard cock digging into my back. I roll over, kissing him before pushing him to his back. I climb on top of him to get exactly what I want. I don’t need energy because he is the one in control. I might be over him but his fingers dig into my hips as he moves me up and down his cock. My clit rubs against him at the same time, giving me the friction I need.
I’m tender but the pleasure far outweighs any pain. There is no question there. My orgasm is already building as my nails dig into his chest.
“Babe,” he calls me. He can make the sweetest words come out sounding as though they’re an order. That, too, turns me on. Everything he says does. I throw my head back, coming while crying out his name. He rolls us, my back hitting the bed as he keeps on thrusting. A moment later I feel his warm release deep inside of me. His mouth comes to mine, taking it in a kiss. One that’s like everything else about him: sweet but possessive. Dark but gentle. One that lets me know that he is mine and I am his.
I smile up at him as he pulls back from this kiss. “Your lips are swollen. Did I hurt them?” His fingertips lightly brush over them.
“No.” I giggle, licking them. “Yours are, too. Did I hurt you?”
“Never.” He pulls back, his cock slipping free. I let out a small gasp. We might have pushed it this last time. Okay, I might have pushed it. He told me after the last bout of sex in the middle of the night that we should let my body rest. I knew when I climbed on top of him he wouldn’t tell me no.
“Quinn.” His face looks pained as he says my name.
“I’m fine. I just need a warm shower. A bath would be better but we don’t have one of those.” He stands from the bed in all his naked glory. The man is no stranger to working out, that’s for sure.
“You must work out a lot.” My eyes roam over his body. I sit up, knowing I probably look a mess. Daman can’t keep his hands out of my hair.
“Yes,” he answers simply before dropping to his knees on the side of the bed. He grabs my ankles, pulling me closer to him. I’m sure he’s about to bury his face between my legs, but he pulls my socks off tossing them away. I watch as he kisses each of my toes, making me giggle.
“I’m ticklish.” I try and wiggle away from him.
“I was only taking them off so you could shower.” He lets go of my feet. I sit back up.
“I’d invite you to shower with me but you and I will never fit in my shower together.” I laugh. What a bummer that is. But I also know if he comes in the shower with me that it won’t be a therapeutic one. We’d be all over each other, so it’s best he stays out here.
“You shower. I’ll get dressed and we can go to my place. I have a bathtub there.”
“Food too. You have to feed me.” I throw myself back on the bed, pretending I’m dying.
“Are you that hungry?” Daman’s face grows serious.
“I’m always hungry.” I hold my arm out. He takes my hand, pulling me from the bed. “I’m also dramatic about food.” I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. Still he has to lean down to let me. “I’ll be quick.” I dart off toward my bedroom door, already halfway to it when he’s shouting that I’m naked. It’s too late. I’m already in the bathroom.
I don’t waste any time getting in and out, pulling my hair up so it doesn’t get wet. For once I can say I’m moving fast because I want to get to something other than food. Daman. It’s silly because I know we’re spending the day together. He’s not even ten feet from me and I miss him. I grab a towel as I venture back to my room. Daman is standing in the center of it fully dressed. He walks over, shutting my bedroom door.