Page 23 of Just One: Box Set

Chapter Five

" I 'm here for you, Allison."

Damon's words hit Allison like a punch to the gut, and she stumbled backward, her balance faltering. Before she could fall, his hand shot out, gripping her upper arm and pulling her back upright.

“Careful,” he murmured, stepping into the suite, guiding her further inside. His eyes flickered around the luxurious space. “Damn. This place is pretty fucking nice.”

Allison glanced behind her, following his gaze, but her stomach churned with the memories this place held.

“Yeah,” she sighed. It was nice, but the lingering shadow of her ex-fiancé tainted every beautiful detail.

That brought her focus back to the man in front of her—Damon. “How are you even here?”

His hand slid down her arm, and he cupped her cheek with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken. “When I woke up alone in Vegas, my heart felt like it had been stomped on.”

“Your ego was bruised, huh?” Allison raised an eyebrow, knowing full well it had nothing to do with his pride.

He shook his head, his thumb brushing against her lower lip.

“No, Allison. It was because the woman who burned herself into my veins disappeared, and she has no idea how fucking amazing she is.” He leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to her lips.

“And that man…” Another kiss, this one lingering.

“That man made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of real love.

” He kissed her again, each one a promise.

“But he was wrong. He wasn’t worthy of you. ”

His words reached deep, the intensity in his gaze making her chest tighten. “Damon,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I mean it, Allison.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, his touch sending shivers across her skin. “I’m glad he didn’t see your worth, because now I can claim you as mine. And you—" He kissed her once more, harder this time, leaving her breathless. "—are mine.”

Before she could think of a protest, his lips crashed against hers, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Unlike the wild, drunken kiss they'd shared in Vegas, this one was intentional, controlled. This kiss made promises, ones her heart wasn’t sure she was ready to accept, yet her body craved.

As his mouth moved against hers, a moan escaped her lips, betraying the flood of desire coursing through her.

This was the man she had run from, the man she'd told herself she shouldn't want during the entire flight to Venice. But here he was, tearing down every wall she'd carefully built around her broken heart.

When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradled her neck, his touch tender and steady. “Damon,” she breathed, her voice shaky.

“I know this is crazy,” he said, his forehead resting against hers.

“We barely know each other. And you just ended an engagement to a guy who didn’t deserve you.

But I need you to understand something—what happened between us wasn’t just a Vegas fling.

I didn’t fly halfway across the world for a fling, Allison.

I flew here for you. Give me the month, and I’ll prove there’s more to us than just chemistry. ”

He pressed her hand to his chest, right over his heart. “This hasn’t stopped beating for you since the moment I touched you.”

Allison’s head swirled, his words knocking her off-balance in more ways than one.

The logical part of her mind screamed at her to pull back, but the heat of his body so close to hers had her head spinning.

Her hands, which had been hanging at her sides, moved on their own, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer.

She pressed her lips to his, and this time, she didn’t hold back. Every ounce of her pent-up desire poured into the kiss, and Damon responded with a low groan, his hands gripping her waist and pulling her flush against him. “Bedroom,” he mumbled against her lips, his voice rough with need.

Allison wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her from the floor, his strength effortless. “Upstairs,” she tried to say, but Damon didn’t seem to care. He carried her toward the couch in the living room, lowering her onto the cushions.

“Too far,” he growled, settling between her legs. “I need you naked now.”

In a swift motion, he tugged the straps of her maxi dress down her arms, baring her breasts to him. Without hesitation, he pulled her bra down, and his mouth latched onto her nipple, the heat of his tongue making her back arch off the couch.

“Damon,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked harder, his other hand pinching and rolling her sensitive flesh.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since I got on that plane,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. He pushed her dress down further, and Allison lifted her hips, allowing him to strip it from her body. The dress landed on the floor in a heap.

“You’ve got on too many clothes,” she whispered, her eyes dark with lust as she watched him rise to his feet. In a blur, Damon stripped out of his clothes, tossing them aside. His body—every lean, hard muscle—was even more stunning than she remembered, and it sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

With a wicked grin, Damon slid between her legs again. “I hope you’re not attached to these panties,” he said, tearing through the flimsy lace before tossing them over his shoulder.

Allison opened her mouth to protest, but the moment his tongue swiped across her folds, all rational thought dissolved into a moan.

He didn’t stop there. Damon devoured her with an intensity that made her body tremble, his fingers joining the assault as he teased and pinched her clit.

Pleasure built inside her, rising with every flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers until she exploded, crying out as the orgasm tore through her.

Before she had even come down from the high, Damon surged into her, his thick cock stretching and filling her in one smooth thrust. “Fuck, Allison,” he groaned, his voice strained as he began to move, each thrust deeper than the last. “You feel so fucking good.”

His lips crashed against hers, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

“Give me another,” he growled, his hips angling just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars.

Allison gasped as pleasure swirled through her, building impossibly fast until she shattered again, her walls clenching around him as she came.

Damon’s body tensed above hers, his cock swelling inside her, and with a final thrust, he let out a guttural groan, spilling inside her as he collapsed against her. His weight was comforting, his body warm and solid as he held her close.

Breathless, Damon shifted just enough to keep from crushing her. "Please say you'll give me the month," he whispered against her neck, his voice still thick with desire.

Allison giggled softly, her chest still heaving. "If you keep giving me orgasms like that… I don’t think I could kick you out even if I tried."

A grin spread across Damon’s face as he scooped her up from the couch. “Sweetheart, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Before she could respond, he tossed her over his shoulder, giving her a perfect view of his muscular backside as he carried her up the stairs. Her back hit the mattress with a soft bounce, making her giggle again.

“Damon,” she breathed, but before she could say more, his lips captured hers, silencing her. Words didn’t matter right now. Every touch of his hands, every stroke of his cock as he slid back inside her, said everything she needed to hear. Damon wasn’t just here for sex—he was here for her.

And as her body responded to his, every moan, every gasp, every thrust made it clear that she didn’t want this to end. Damon was more than a fling, more than an escape. He was something real.

But even as she gave in to the pleasure, one question lingered at the back of her mind—was this too good to be true? Would it last, or would it fizzle out like every other time she'd let herself believe in love?

She didn’t have the answers. But as she lay in his arms, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of their passion, she whispered a silent prayer: Don’t let this be another Vegas. I want what happens in Venice to stay in my life forever.