“No…no blowjob. I don’t want to force you to do something.”
For a moment, I panic. No? Does that mean he’s retracted his offer? Is he not going to protect me anymore? If he doesn’t want this, then what does he want? I’m seconds away from begging him for his help, from offering him anything I can think of.
Even my virginity… The very last thing I own.
He doesn’t give me a chance to plead or beg for his protection. Instead, he does something that seems very unlike the Damon I’ve come to know. Releasing my wrists from his steel-grip, he pulls me on top of him. I can feel his hot breath against my lips, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me.
And then he does.
His full lips sear mine.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Fear trickles up my spine.
I’m kissing Damon. I’m kissing him. Or maybe he’s kissing me.
I go stiff against him. My first thought is to push him away, but then I feel his soft, warm lips deepen against mine. He’s a kisser..and my body starts to become affected by those real kisses, burning me up from the inside out.
An emotion so deep, something I’ve never experienced before, throbs to the surface, spiraling out of control inside me. My body softens into his hold while my lips mold to his. My lips were made to kiss his. He tastes like bourbon, and there’s a faint smokiness clinging to his skin. It’s an exotic combination, but I don’t mid. All those things heighten our kiss. My fingers splay across his bare, chiseled chest, as if holding onto him could stop my body from melting into a pile of mush.
I feel him pull away slowly, his lips feather light against mine until he’s completely gone. And like a flower misses the sun’s warmth at night, I miss Damon’s lips against mine. His warmth seeps into me, showing me a side of him I’d been certain didn’t exist. My brown eyes bleed into his sleepy, coffee-colored ones. His gaze never wavers from mine, and I watch as something swims in his eyes—an unreadable emotion. Deep down, I know I’ll be okay. I don’t know how I know this or why, but I can feel it in Damon’s gaze—like a protective blanket coating my body.
The moment ends, and with little effort, Damon pulls me to his chest. I rest my head against his warm skin. The sound of his heart beating fills my ears, its steady rhythm calming me. As his hands glide down my arms, goosebumps cover my skin.
After today, I was certain I’d never let him touch me again, but now I’m not so sure.
His hold on me tightens, instinctually, as if he wants to make sure I don’t go anywhere. Shock twists deep inside me as he brings his other hand to my head, burying his thick fingers into my brown mane. When he starts playing with the natural curls at the ends of each strand, I nearly moan.
His touch relaxes me, soothes me. I don’t want this moment between us to end.
“Don’t be scared. You have no reason to be scared of me.” He licks his lips before smiling at me. “I’m a bastard, a killer, and the worst man to be in your presence, but I’ll do whatever I can to protect you,” he whispers before his hand stills in my hair, cradling my head against his body.
His touch is gentle; his eyes are kind. This is the man I wish I’d met earlier today. Not the devil in disguise.
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes, I mean it.”
He sounds like he is about to go back to sleep. Afraid to move, to wake him, I cuddle up to his warm chest, letting him comfort me, partially because it feels good, and partially because I know he’s the only one who can now.
My eyes grow heavy, and I doze in and out of consciousness, though I never go fully back to sleep.
When I notice the sun rising, the first morning rays shining in through the window, I decide to get a shower. The only reason I didn’t shower last night is because I was scared to take my clothes off even for a second with a guy like Damon under the same roof as me. Now that I feel a little better, and after the kiss that took place between us, I’m confident no one is going to jump me in the bathroom.
Least of all Damon.
I slowly peel myself off him. My cheek is hot where his chest touched my skin, and I run my fingers against it to draw some of the warmth out. As soon as I’m up and out of the bed, I immediately miss it. I miss him, the warmth, and the sound of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. It’s a strange emotion to be feeling toward a man who had threatened to kill me not even twenty-four hours ago.