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I stroke her hair for less than a minute before she’s out to this world.
My phone lights up on my table, and I’m careful not to wake her when I reach for it.
My lips pull at the corner at the message.
Matthias: Got him.
Chapter 37
Misty
I’m woken by the feeling of soft lips kissing along the scar just above my shoulder blade. Heat floods my stomach as the sensations filter into my still-sleepy mind. Damon’s large frame is wrapped around me from behind. Tingles run down my spine at the feel of his hard cock notched against my butt, just begging me to push into it. I’m cocooned in his warmth. One of his arms is under my head, and the other hand crosses my chest like a seat belt and cups my breast.
I arch into his touch, and he hums, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Good morning, Nymph.” His low, gravely words brush over my sensitive skin, his mouth still making its way over the visual proof of my past.
I tense, and he pinches my nipple in response. “Relax. I wasn’t there to take care of you when it happened. Give me the chance to do it now.”
His heart pounds against my back as he waits for my answer, the steady rhythm like a tranquilizer to my nerves.
“You don’t think they’re gross?” I turn my face toward the pillow to hide my morning breath. God, did I even brush my teeth last night? Memories of Damon waking me up again with his mouth between my legs, until I was crying out with pleasure, have heat rising to my cheeks. He’d come out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth and another ready for me.
“Do you think my scars are gross?”
I twist my body, turning under him. Up close, I can see the constellation of scars that line his shoulder, chest, and arms. Marks from nicks and cuts delivered over time. His breathing grows rapid as I trace each one, taking my time to ask him about them. There’s a small circle just below his collarbone, the skin smoother, almost like glass. “What happened?”
“Picked a fight with the wrong guy. Bastard got me with his cigarette before I could realize what was happening.” I flinch, my thumb pressing into the mark as if I can take away the pain that’s been long healed over.
“Don’t worry, Nymph. He got what he deserved.”
My chest expands, a giddiness growing there. I like that entirely too much. I want every single person that hurt him to pay for what they did. I’ve hidden my scars since they’d been cut into me; now that they’re in the open, Damon’s mouth caressing them, I’m not ashamed. I’m angry.
There’s another circle on his upper shoulder. This one’s indented, and the skin around it is jagged. “How about this one?
“Bullet.” Damon’s voice is strained. There’s a wall between us, but his eyes don’t leave mine, letting me know if I asked, he’d answer.
I run my finger over the raised line above his nipple, and the pink tip peaks with my touch. “I thought billionaires were coddled, with diamond-encrusted spoons in their mouths.”
Goose bumps rise where my thumb brushes the rose-pink underside.
He brushes his fingers through my hair absentmindedly, pushing it off my face. His voice is low, dark when he answers. “Sometimes you need to be a wolf to rule over sheep.”
I flatten my tongue over his nipple, twirling it before nipping gently with my teeth. I gaze up at him through my lashes, finally feeling safe again. “Be my wolf?”
“Fuuuck, Misty,” he groans, pulling my mouth to his. His kisses aren’t soft or gentle. His lips, tongue, and teeth are dominating me. I feel like I’m being hunted down and devoured.
I kiss him back fiercely, my hands digging into his hair, pulling him closer. It’s not enough. I want more, I need more. I want him everywhere. I want to be consumed.
He pulls back, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against mine. His chest heaves, and his heart beats rapidly against my palm.
He nips my lips again like he can’t stop himself. His fingers tremble where they hold my arm. “I’m so fucking gone for you.”
My heart swells, and my head grows light as his words swirl through me. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, instead lifting my leg over his hip and trailing the tip of his cock through my slit.
He purrs into my throat. “So wet for me already.” He pushes in until just the tip enters, my brain short-circuiting. “I think I told you, you’d have to beg for it.”
The reminder of our first night in this bed together, the way he’d made my body sing without touching me—I can’t go through that again. “Please, Damon. Please.”
