Page 31 of Crossing the Line

It felt good, and I wanted more. I wanted to come, to take the edge off my desire before I had to go to the rehearsal dinner later and see Damien and act like my heart wasn’t still cracked in half from his rejection.

But this wasn’t working. I couldn’t seem to get there.

Frustrated, I moved my fingers faster, and I tried to hold onto the scorching-hot memory of sleeping with Damien, but the harder I tried to reach that peak, the clearer it became to me that it wasn’t going to happen.

It just didn’t feel right. I’d done this before. Thinking about Damien while I pleasured myself was something I usually did several times a week in the darkness of my bedroom, often with fresh memories of ways that he’d turned me on without even meaning to.

But things were different now. He didn’t want to be with me this way, and even thinking about him while masturbating felt almost like a betrayal.

Sighing, I turned the shower off and stepped out. The air was thick with humidity, and the mirror was fogged up. Grabbing a towel, I dried off my body quickly, then started rubbing it over my wet hair as I pulled open the bathroom door and walked out into my hotel room naked.

When I saw Damien standing in the center of the room, I let out a shriek, whipping the towel off my head and covering the front of my body as I backed up a step, bumping into the doorframe. I winced as pain reverberated through my shoulder, and Damien looked concerned as he took a step closer, but I raised my free hand to stop him while still clutching the towel to my chest.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I snapped, mortified.

Sure, he’d seen me naked just a few nights ago, but that was different. We were both swept up in passion. Right now, I was horridly exposed.

“I came to continue our conversation, and your door wasn’t latched.”

“So, you just came in?”

His eyes drifted down to my exposed legs, and they darkened. “I decided to wait for you to be done with your shower.”

At those words, it hit me. He was right out here in my room while I was touching myself in the shower, moaning, and…

Oh God. I said his name.

“H-how long have you been here?”

Damien didn’t let my outstretched hand stop him this time. Closing the distance between us, he grabbed my wrist and pulled my body into his. I stumbled, and my hands went to his chest to steady myself. I was flush against him, the towel trapped between us. But then, he ripped it away, tossing it across the room as I gasped.

“I’ve been here long enough to drive me fucking crazy listening to you moan my name.”

“Damien-”

Any protest I might have had was cut off as he crashed his lips to mine. My mind scrambled and lust surged. The kiss was urgent, a hot claiming that melted away my reservations as he licked his way into my mouth.

I slid my hands up to his neck, pulling him closer as he grabbed my bare ass. I suddenly didn’t feel uncomfortable being naked anymore, but he was wearing far too many clothes.

Breaking the kiss, I yanked his shirt up and over his head. The second it was out of the way, his lips were on me again, kissing along my jaw and down my neck. I traced the muscles of his chest and abdomen as he guided me toward the bed.

I loved that he was taking charge like this, with a driving need that told me wanted this as much as I did. Whether he had romantic feelings for me or not didn’t matter right now. We had a physical passion that was unmatched.

I ended up on my back on the bed, and Damien grabbed my legs, pulling me to the edge of the mattress. Then, he sank to his knees.

I propped my upper body up on my elbows so that I could look down at him, watching as he slid his hands up my thighs, spreading me wide. He glanced up, meeting my eyes as a wicked grin spread over his face.

“As I remembered what happened that night, I couldn’t believe I missed the opportunity to do this.” He looked down at my pussy, licking his lips. “Now, I’m getting a taste.”

Lowering his head, he licked up my center in one slow stroke from my entrance to my clit, and I collapsed back onto the mattress with a ragged cry.

“Oh, yes,” he groaned against me, his voice muffled. “I knew you’d taste so sweet.”

With that, he got serious about devouring me. His tongue was everywhere, gliding through my wet folds and dipping into my entrance and swirling over my clit until I saw stars. My hands ended up in his hair and my legs tightened around his head. He didn’t recoil when my hips thrust up. Instead, he lapped at me like he never wanted to stop.

So, I went wild, riding his face while my fingers tightened in his long brown hair. I was moaning nonstop, finally chasing the orgasm that I couldn’t manage to give myself in the shower. When it hit, it was like lightning, ripping through me as I cried out his name. My toes curled, and my heart raced.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted. “Oh God, Damien…”