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We end up on the couch shortly after, watching the first Harry Potter movie, drinking more wine. I wish I wasn’t so thirsty; my mind tells me to sip on it slowly, but my high persuades me otherwise.
I’m laughing at something Hermione said on TV, something I’ve heard a thousand times, which might not be so funny but seems to be the silliest, funniest thing right now.
I can see the grin on Damon’s lips. A full one, and I hope I can commit it to memory.
“Gemma, hearing you laugh is like fucking for the first time.” His arm is wrapped around me, his hand caressing my behind.
“Is that a good thing?” I search his face. He’s so stunning—thin pink lips, sharp jaw, and eyes as dark as the devil’s soul.
He pauses the movie. “It is.”
Even though my throat feels heavy and like it’s an impossibility, I swallow, or at least try to. “What does a girl have to do to be the last of the last?”
Even through my hazy vision, I can see the tension in his body. If I wanted an answer, I don’t get one.
Joey drops off a bag for him, and Damon comes back down from my room not long after wearing black sweatpants and a T-shirt.
Silence blooms around us. Nothing but his touches and his side stares. While I’m watching the movie, he’s watching me.
“Damon, are you even watching it? It’s important to me.” I chuckle.
“You’re important to me,” he whispers softly, so softly I’m urging my brain to remember his spoken words when tomorrow comes.
I wake on my bed, tightly wrapped in Damon’s arms.
I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.
My time with Damon is borrowed, like a loan you take, knowing it’ll crush you down the line. I don’t want to miss a second of our time together.
I skim my fingers over his shirtless body, tracing his shoulders, his arms, reaching for his abs, then his erection.
I leave his arms, and his eyes widen as soon as I put him in my mouth.
“Baby.” His Adam’s apple moves, euphoria seeping through me at the fact that I affect him too.
His head tilts to the side before he watches me like a hawk, while I feast on his cock as it slips through my hand and into my mouth.
“On the floor. On your knees.” He’s fully awake now, pushing his pants below his ass as I remove my T-shirt and comply, letting my knees hit the floor. He places the rug under them, and I settle comfortably.
“Sucking me off first thing in the morning, Gemma?” He shakes his head. “That’s how you become my last of the last,” he says. I remember that fleeting moment from last night. I also remember his words enveloping me like the warmest blanket.
You’re important to me.
“Everything you’re doing to me makes me want you as my last.” He rubs his thumb down my bottom lip, his eyes echoing the love in my heart.
Could he? Could he love me? Do dreams ever really come true?
His hardness is jutting out underneath my chin. “Open your mouth.”
I do. I wrap my lips around his erection and suck him. I swirl my tongue over his tip, letting him hit the deepest part of my throat. Until he’s done playing—coaxing both of us.
He grabs me by the nape with one hand. “Can I fuck your mouth now?” When I nod, he lets that devil go.
My head ends up between his hands as he slips inside my mouth. He’s in control; he chooses the pace while I practically choke on him, the moans echoing my approval of his vicious strokes.
In this moment, a deranged cloud mists through his vacant eyes, his demons taking over, controlling his desires.
I take and take and take.
