Page 10 of Damian’s Conquest

At the tantalizing touch, she moaned into his mouth, unable to hold back the lust that coursed through her. Nobody had ever gotten her aroused so quickly and so thoroughly. So expertly.

Damian ripped his lips from hers. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

He sank his face to her cleavage and kissed her skin, before he tugged on the bustier and pulled it down. When she felt cool air blow against her nipples, she realized that her boobs had escaped from their prison. She should stop him now, tell him that she wasn’t the kind of woman who allowed a stranger to touch her like this, but when he put his lips around one nipple and sucked it into his mouth the reason why she wanted him to stop suddenly eluded her. Only one thought counted now: to feel Damian’s lips and hands on her.

6

When Damian had entered his office and found the woman in the Little Red Riding Hood costume bending down, about to open the refrigerator that contained bottles of human blood, he’d seen red, and had been close to attacking her for breaking in. But when she’d turned around, his thoughts had turned in a totally different direction.

He’d never been attracted to a woman on such a primal level as he was to Naomi, whom he knew nothing about, other than that he wanted to drive his fangs into those perfect tits. Had she really come to his office to get a kiss because of a bet with her girlfriends? He wasn’t sure about that. But right now, he didn’t give a fig about her motives, as long as she allowed him to kiss her and touch her.

Other men might have described Naomi as chubby, even though they would at first be drawn to her pretty face, her blond hair and her blue eyes. But Damian liked her figure, because everything about her was real, the way it was meant to be: Full breasts, wide hips. She was real, because he knew that her breasts were natural, not an ounce of silicone in sight. Not like the skinny models that threw themselves at him. Just by looking at their boobs he could tell that the only reason they looked so firm and large was because they were fake. And he hated fake.

But Naomi’s breasts were beautiful, big, and responsive. He loved kneading them with his hands, while he sucked on her nipples and teased the little rosebuds into stiff little peaks. He kept his fangs extended, and brushed them against her skin, feeling bolts of lightning race through him at the contact. It felt as if he was rubbing his hard-on over her tits. And fuck was he hard. His cock was ready to burst, ready to plunge into this hot woman.

Even the costume looked perfect on her. The skirt was so short that when she’d bent down to open the refrigerator, he’d seen that she was wearing a black G-string. As if she needed to look any more enticing than she already did. He could barely hold on to his control. Another five minutes, and she’d be bent over the desk, and he’d be fucking her until she begged him to stop.

He lifted his head from her breasts, and looked into her blue eyes. Her lids were at half-mast, and arousal shone from her eyes.

“Touch me,” he demanded and pulled her hand to his groin, making her aware of what she did to him.

Something in her eyes flickered. Surprise? How could she possibly be surprised at how hard he’d gotten so quickly, when surely, any man she touched reacted the same way?

“I love your tits,” he said and pulled one hard nipple into his mouth and licked over it.

Naomi released a strangled moan.

He squeezed both breasts with his hands, and suddenly felt her squeeze his cock in the same fashion.

“Oh, fuck, yeah!” he ground out, and rubbed his cock harder against her, demanding she repeat the action.

Then he sank his lips back onto her gorgeous tits and sucked them. He’d always loved big-breasted women, but Naomi was the first one who came in this perfect package. She had beautiful eyes, sensual lips, and the aroma of her blood spoke to the vampire inside him. Both sides of him were drawn to her, and while he’d been with tantalizing women before, none had ever ticked all the boxes.

“I want you, Naomi, I want you now,” he murmured against her heated skin, while he reached underneath her short skirt, eager to feel how wet she was for him.

“Damian, I need you—”

Damian froze. The female voice wasn’t Naomi’s. He spun his head to the left. There, at the door, stood Lydia, dressed in a Steampunk costume.

“Fuck!” he hissed, while simultaneously using his cape to shield Naomi from her view. Not that he could hide what they were doing, since Lydia’s hybrid vampire senses would have already picked up on the scent of arousal in the room. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Already, Naomi was pulling on her dress, trying to squeeze her boobs back into the bustier, with little success.

Lydia had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, but the microphone’s not working, and I’m supposed to sing in a few minutes.”

“Can’t you ask Patrick to help you?”

“He’s even busier than you.”

Damian knew what that meant. “Fuck!” This was the worst timing ever. But he had responsibilities. His own needs would have to be postponed, but not for long. “Just a sec, Lydia.”

He turned back to Naomi, and reached behind her to lower the zipper.

“What are you doing?” she ground out under her breath and glared at him.

He lowered his voice though he knew that Lydia could probably hear him anyway. “You’re not gonna get your boobs back into your dress like that. Just let me help you. Turn around.”

She turned, still shielded from Lydia’s view by his cape, and tucked herself into the dress, then he pulled the zipper back up and cupped her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere, we’re not done.”