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I kneel behind her and get a good look. Her pretty pink pussy’s gleaming, practically begging for my touch.
Misty starts to twitch as I stare at her, uncomfortable with being on display this long. I bite her bare ass hard enough to leave a mark, and she squeals in shock.
“Do not move. You tortured me. Now, it’s my turn.”
She freezes, but goose bumps rise below my palms. “Good girl.”
I lean in and trace her seam with my tongue, gripping her ass to spread her wider. Her taste fills my mouth, going right to my head, and my touch turns ravenous. I fuck her with my tongue until she’s whimpering and grinding against my desk, chasing her release.
“Don’t stop,” she whines as I pull back and stand behind her.
“The only place you’re coming is on my cock.” I line up my cock and fill her in one thrust. We both moan as I stretch her wide around me. I place a kiss where I know her scar is beneath the thin fabric of her dress. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”
I pump into her, slowly building my rhythm, not giving a single shit who hears us. I want to make her scream my name, beg me over and over for her release. Only then will I give it to her.
But I know she wouldn’t like that, so I put that in the back of my mind for at home and reach around her hip, circling her clit with my fingertips.
She arches off the desk, pushing into me as her cries turn ragged. “Yes. God yes. That feels good.”
I bite her shoulder and fuck her harder. “I like when you call me God.”
“Fuck,” she hisses, her pussy pulsing around me as she orgasms, dragging me over the edge with her. My second release hits me just as hard as the first, and I have to set both palms on the table on either side of her to keep myself stable.
I push the hair that’s sticking to her face behind her ear and kiss her temple.
“I missed you.” She whispers it tentatively, and it’s like she reached into my chest and gripped my heart.
I turn her so she’s sitting facing me and capture her mouth, wanting to taste her words, then drop my forehead to hers. I never want to be apart from her again. “Next time, you come with me.”
Chapter 43
Misty
“Did you want a—” Whatever I was about to ask evaporates from my mind when I spot Damon standing in front of the mirror in my small bathroom. His hair’s slicked back, wet from his shower, and I follow a rivulet as it makes its way down the curves and valleys of his chest and disappears into the towel slung low around his hips.
My cheeks heat as I slowly make my way back up, taking in every detail of his tanned, cut body. His muscles twitch under my gaze, and he leans into me when I reach out to touch him.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never getting out of here.”
The reminder of him leaving has the muscles in my back tightening, and I cross my arms in front of me. “What if I said I didn’t want you to go?”
Matthias called an hour ago to let us know he’d set up a meeting with the Ricci family tonight. Everything in me screamed to not let him go. That there’s no way it’s not dangerous. Damon, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried at all.
He moves toward me, cupping my face between both palms. “It’s adorable when you worry about me, but I promise I’ll be fine. No one would dare start anything in the Vaults.”
I let out a breath and lean against the doorway, not exactly happy about this whole thing. I didn’t like that he was even having to do this because of me, no matter how pleased I am that he’d gone a little crazy after seeing my scars. ’Cause let’s face it, that’s hot.
Damon kisses between my brows before turning back to the sink and using a round bristle brush to lather shaving cream and apply it to his face. The sweet smell of sandalwood fills my nose, and I can’t help but move in closer.
I follow his hand as he drags the blade of his razer down in a perfect line along his cheeks. I have no idea what’s overcome me, but I’m suddenly asking, “Can I shave you?”
Damon smiles, the cream on his face making him look funny as he says, “Is this an attempt to slit my throat with a blade?”
“I…I don’t know. Forget it.” My neck and cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I take a step toward the exit.
Damon wraps his hand around my waist, stilling me as he holds out the razor. “Have you done this before?”
“No.” I bite my lip because I’m starting to question this entire idea.
