Page 8

8

A n hour later, Damon had thoroughly scrubbed down the kitchen, returning it to a near sparkling clean. He’d give it another once over later. Right now, he needed a shower. Using the downstairs bathroom, he scrubbed all the blood, guts, and debris from his body. When he’d finished, he wrapped his hips in a towel, threw his own clothes in the washer, and padded up

the stairs to his bedroom.

Water from the shower inside the bathroom pummeled the tiled floor, sounding like heavy rain. He didn’t blame Tiffany for the extra-long shower. When you washed the blood off, no matter how clean you got, sometimes you still felt dirty.

He finished drying off and threw his towel into the laundry bin, before he slipped on a pair of old, loose-fitting jeans, then reached into the top of his closet for a shirt.

Only for Tiffany to clear her throat from behind him.

Shirt in hand, he turned around. Shit.

His breath caught in his throat, and every inch of him stiffened.

Tiffany was standing in the middle of his bedroom, still damp from the shower, one of his towels wrapped around her. One tiny rectangle of a towel. He swallowed, hard.

Thinking about what was underneath that towel would be the death of him.

Silently, Tiffany scanned the length of his body, an obvious look of appreciation in her eyes as she bit her lower lip. Fuck, if she looked at him that way much longer...

Slowly, she took a single step toward him.

Damon growled, low in his throat. “What are you doing, Shortcake?”

Couldn’t she take a hint? He wanted to do right by her damn it.

“Looking for another towel, or a blow dryer, that’s all,” she said innocently.

“Out here? In my bedroom?” he asked, his suspicion obvious.

She shrugged her shoulders, a wicked little smile crossing her face she feigned innocence. “Where else would it be?”

He watched as she made her way toward him, hips swaying slow and steady.

Immediately, he cursed himself.

What was he doing? This was Mark’s little sister. She was twenty-two, her own woman, and though she didn’t realize he’d known her for years—he owed it to her brother’s memory to stay away, to keep his hands off. Didn’t he?

But that excuse was wearing thinner by the second.

Especially when she wanted him so clearly.

She met his eyes quickly, then lowered her own gaze to the floor again. “So, do you have any more towels?”

He pointed to the bathroom. “Under the sink.”

She stood directly in front of him then, those large doe eyes staring up at him from beneath a layer of dark, thick lashes. “I didn’t see any,” she whispered innocently.

This woman would be the death of him. He was certain.

Exercising every bit of self-control he had, he walked past her to the bathroom. Reaching under the sink, he felt around for any stray towels. Finally, he found one tucked far in the back corner. He pulled it out, ready to take it to her, only to find her standing directly behind him. Those large amber eyes were examining his torso again, lingering on the muscles leading from his chest to his hips.

He couldn’t resist. “Like what you see, Shortcake?”

“Yes,” she breathed. Her eyes went wide, almost as if she’d surprised herself with the blunt admission.

The deep red blush that burned across her cheeks had his cock practically weeping.

Fuck, he’d never been so hard.

She shook her head, her embarrassment getting the better of her. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over—”

But he caught her wrist, stilling her with a single hand. “Don’t be.”

Slowly, her gaze inched up to meet his, the surprised look in her eyes equal parts innocent and perfect. He could feast on that look, on her for days, like a lion stalking its prey.

The energy between them was primal, heady.

“What are we doing here, Shortcake?” he growled. “You tell me.”

He watched as her breath hitched, before slowly, she stepped closer. “I don’t want to pretend anymore, Damon.” She placed a single hand on his cheek, and that one move was enough to destroy him. “Kiss me, please.”

“Oh, Shortcake,” he purred, slowly reaching for her towel. “How can I say no when you beg so sweetly?”

The fiery look in Damon’s blue eyes as he kissed her sent Tiffany’s heart thumping against her chest. She didn’t care if she didn’t know him.

Something about him sparked a fire in her. Made her brave, reckless even.

And that was enough for her.

Without warning, she balled up her courage and dropped her towel to the floor.

Damon paused only for a second, pulling back long enough for his gaze to rake over her.

“Fuck me, you’re perfect.”

Within seconds, he had her pressed against the tiling of the shower, his lips meeting hers once more. But there something different in this kiss. Something unbridled, unleashed. The intensity of it was enough to make her moan, the delicious minty taste of him filling her mouth as he kissed her. His kiss its own kind of claiming. No one else had ever kissed her like this.

Like his tongue was making love to her mouth.

Like she was his everything.

Gently, he suckled on her lower lip, the action making her moan and buck her hips against him. Heat rushed to her center, every inch of her longing for his touch, his nearness. She ran her hands over his shoulders and onto his muscled chest, her fingers crossing the hard ridges of his abs appreciatively before she slipped her hand into his jeans.

The growl that rumbled from his throat as she stroked him, felt powerful, potent. Addictive even. She could hear that sound every day for the rest of her life and never tire of it. His lips trailed from her mouth, and he nestled his head beside her neck, kiss and lavishing the sensitive skin there. A shiver rolled down her spine.

His hands slipped behind her back, cupping her ass, before lifted her with ease so her hips were up against him. Supporting her with one arm, he trailed his hand along her skin and down to the juncture of her thighs.

“This okay?” he breathed.

She nodded. “More than okay.”

His warm hand nestled between her legs, and he rubbed his fingers in slow, sensual circles over her clit. She moaned, a fresh wave of heat flooding her. As if she hadn’t already been wet enough for him before. His fingers were covered with her sweetness.

“So responsive. So perfect.” He met her gaze then, before he slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. A deep moan escaped his lips.

She gasped her eyes going wide, to know he liked that....

He lowered his hand between her legs again and massaged her, fire coursing through her veins and warming her in a way she hadn’t known was possible. The last of the water drops from her shower dripped onto her skin, the contrast of the cool water on her breasts creating an amazing sensation. He placed his cheek against hers, his mouth trailing sweet kisses up to her ear. The heat of his breath sent waves of electricity rolling through her body.

He gently nipped at her earlobe. “You taste so sweet.”

Still supporting her with one arm, he captured her hand in his and led her fingers down to the button of his jeans. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted that too. Leaning forward, she undid his jeans and his pants fell to his ankles, revealing the hard, strong length of him.

She fought back a gasp. His cock was large and thick, and the thought of him plunging deep inside her sent both chills racing through her body. Kissing her deeply again, he placed himself just outside the entrance to her body. Adrenaline and excitement overwhelmed her as the pressure increased.

She pulled back from his kiss. “Damon, wait,” she whispered.

He stopped immediately and met her eyes.

“I...I...” she stammered. As tough as she was, she was no tigress in the bedroom—not yet.

“Tiffany, if you don’t want to do this, I don’t want to pressure you. If—”

“No,” she interrupted. “No, I want to. It’s just…” Her eyes trailed over the length of his body again. Her desire for him giving her courage. She inhaled a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “I’m a virgin.”

Damon’s eyes widened.

She bit back a groan. Fuck, did he not want her now that he knew?

A large lump rose in her throat at his silence. “I should have told you sooner, but I was embarrassed and I—”

With his thumb he wiped away an embarrassed tear from her eye, then stroked his knuckles over her jawline as he let out an appreciative purr. “I’ll be gentle with you, Shortcake.”

Before she could respond, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom, laying her out on his bed. The soft mattress engulfed her in a sea of black sheets, making her instantly feel more at ease.

Damon climbed over top her, his eyes drinking her in.

He ran his fingers over her thighs, and she shivered. “So, you’ve never been with anyone before?”

She shook her head. “I understand if that makes you not want to—”

“I do want to, Tiffany.”

She froze, hearing her name on his lips, like this, thrilled her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

She smiled, her nerves causing her to open her mouth to make some sassy quip, something about how every other woman he’d been with had probably heard that before, but as she met his gaze, nothing but sincerity stared back.

Her breath caught.

How could they have connected this deeply in such a short time?

“I promise you, I’ll be gentle, and I’ll try to make sure it won’t hurt.” He slid off her and knelt near her feet. Pushing her legs open, he trailed kisses and soft caresses up the insides of her thighs, making her heart quicken.

Before she could prepare herself, he ran the length of his tongue over her lower lips, massaging and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

Tiffany threw her head back and moaned.

“Fuck me, you taste amazing,” he growled, burying his face between her legs.

Pleasure radiated from her center, sending sparks of bliss throughout her body. She bucked against him, rocking, and kneading herself against his tongue as heat warmed her core.

“That’s it, Shortcake,” he purred against her. “Take what you need.”

She gripped his head, unable to do anything more than let out a pleasured groan. God, how long had she waited for this? Wanted to lose herself like this?

He teased her with his mouth, the feeling inside her intensifying until she was certain she could combust from it. She was close, so close.

“Come for me, Tiffany,” he growled up to her, the words making her shiver. “Let yourself go, Shortcake.”

With one more hard pull from his lips, her release hit her hard and fast. She clasped her hands around his head, riding his face as he tasted her.

“Fuck!” she screamed. “Oh, God, Damon, fuck me.”

She gasped for air when he released her, her gaze locking onto his. Smiling from between her legs, a devious smirk crossed his face as he licked his lips in answer. “With pleasure.”

Damon wanted, no, needed to be inside her, but his desire to make her first time as painless as possible mattered more. He intended to make her come until she was so soft, so wet and pliable, that the width and length of him would be a welcome relief.

He’d work her until she was begging for him.

“Ready for round two?” He grinned.

Rounding to her clit once more, he continued to devour her with his mouth. This time, angling his chin slightly upward, making enough room so he could position two fingers outside her entrance. Her wetness coated him as stroke her, before pushing his fingers inside her a little.

She squirmed against him. “Damon, I’m not certain I can finish again. I—”

He slid his fingers in deeper, causing her to moan mid-sentence.

He chuckled. “Oh, Shortcake, you’ll take everything I give you, and like it too. Promise.”

With increasing pressure, he slid his fingers in deeper, and she moaned once more, rocking against him in pleasure, as he curled his fingers up, massaging that spot he knew would drive her wild. He fought back a grin as she let out a throaty, wild sound, before he dropped his head once more, continuing to suck her. The cry that escaped her lips as he fingered her didn’t sound like the noises of a meek virgin at all. No, it sounded like a woman who knew who to make a man moan. And she would, in time. He’d teach her.

“I want you,” she panted.

He released her, licked his lips again as he grinned. “What was that you said?” he teased.

“I...mmmhhh...I...” She attempted to catch her breath. She kept her eyes closed. All the muscles in her body visibly relaxed from her enjoyment. “I can’t say it.”

He chuckled. “Yes, you can.” He crawled up the bed, lingering over her body, only inches separating them.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze.

He leaned down and kissed her, claiming her lips once more as he dug a hand into the damp tresses of her hair. Their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart as he whispered, “I’ll do anything you want. Never be too shy to ask.”

She lifted her hand to his face and ran her fingertips across his cheek.

“Anything,” he repeated.

A blush colored her cheeks, her chest, but the fire in her amber eyes was unmistakable. “I want you inside me now.”

He growled, nipping at the soft skin of her neck before he took her breast into his mouth. His tongue circled over one sweet, hard nipple, then the other. She sighed, relaxing against him.

“Do we need a—?”

“No, I’m on the pill,” she panted as he continued to play with her.

When he released her, he smiled wide, moving to position himself outside her entrance.

A mixture of emotions crossed her face.

“Don’t be nervous.” He smiled down at her. “I’ll take care of you, Tiffany. Always.”

Slowly, he eased himself inside her, and she whimpered. Fuck, she was tight. So unbelievably tight. He let out a guttural groan. He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted this. Being inside her, being so close to her, but having to hold back was like sweet torture.

With slow, tentative movements he rocked into her, careful not to penetrate too deeply or all at once. But she caught him off guard, abruptly shifting herself lower so that he was seated to the hilt. Damon moaned.

“Goddamn it, Tiffany,” he swore. He gripped the headboard with one hand to brace himself. “You’re killing me.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she breathed, cupping his cheek. “I trust you. Please.”

He stroked his fingers over her cheek, rocking into her. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

“I think I can handle the heat.” She cast him another playful grin before she ground into him again. “I want this to be good for you too.”

“Tiffany,” he growled in warning. “Don’t tempt me.”

“It’s my body, Damon. I get to choose, and I’ve had my pleasure.” She smiled up at him. “Now it’s your turn.”

Within seconds, Tiffany found herself flipped and lying on her stomach, Damon gripping her roughly by the hips as she marveled at his strength. Her ass ground against him as he positioned himself outside her slick entrance.

“You’re certain?” he asked, hesitating once more. “You’re certain you want it like this?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I’m certain.” She glanced over her shoulder toward him.

The fire in Damon’s eyes blazed as he let out a dark chuckle. “Have it your way, Shortcake. Just remember, you asked for it.”

Without warning, he thrust into her, harder than she expected. She cried out. The pressure as he filled her an intense mixture of pleasure-pain. She’d feared her first time. Had feared her own vulnerability, the embarrassment of lying naked beneath someone’s eyes. But Damon had destroyed all those fears in an instant.

And she wanted more damn it.

More of him.

He pulled back once more, thrusting into her so deeply that her whole body lurched forward. She cried out, bracing her hands against the headboard as he repeated the motion. His strength was incredible, and she felt herself stretch wide to accommodate the full length of him.

“Damon!” she screamed as he thrust into her once more.

Her legs shook, and she fought not to collapse beneath him. Sure, there was a hint of pain, but still, she was slick, wet. Each stroke left her wanting more. Holy smokes.

The man was a beast in the bedroom—she was sure of it.

Damon palmed her breasts as he continued to thrust deep inside her. Her walls pulsing against him, clenching. The pressure in her core, in her whole body built until she could feel herself teetering on the brink, the pleasure so intense it was almost too much.

Damon rolled her right nipple between his fingers, the tips of both her breasts tightening into taut peaks beneath his fingers. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded,

“You,” she said. “I want you.” The words came out as a breathless whisper.

“Louder.”

She raised her voice. “I want you.”

Pulling against her hips harder, he thrust into her over and over, each stroke delivering the whole of his strength. She shook, edging toward the brink.

“I know you can do better than that, Shortcake,” he growled.

“Fuck me,” she screamed. “Please.”

“Come for me now, Tiffany.” Dropping one of his hands to her clit suddenly, she clenched around him, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into her. He pumped into her, her heart feeling like it could overflow from the way he filled her. There was nothing but him. His touch, his scent, the feeling of him buried deep within her.

She wanted to drown in him and never resurface.

Once he wrung the last shudders of her orgasm from her, she let herself collapse onto the bed, unable to hold herself up against the weight of him any longer. A moment later, he lay next to her and pulled her into his arms. She snuggled into his chest as he kissed her forehead, before stroking his fingers through her hair, relaxing her until between long drunk kisses, she felt almost dizzy from her own bliss, yet a single thought gripped her as she drifted off to sleep.

She was certain she’d never felt this way about anyone before.

Not even B...