Chapter 119: Congratulations, I’m Horny (18+)
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I was lying naked on our bed in the apartment, sheets all tangled around my legs, while Damien, fully clothed, loomed over me, his presence both commanding and overwhelming in the dim light.
His body radiated warmth against my skin as he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive column of my neck with a slow pool touch.
The first kiss sent a shiver through me, and then he was kissing, sucking, marking me with a possessiveness that made me catch my breath. Each pull of his lips left a blossoming heat and a faint sting that transformed into pleasure as his tongue soothed the spot afterward.
I could already picture the bruises forming, reminders I wouldn’t be able to hide come morning.
His hands weren’t idle either. They roamed my chest with focused intent, fingers finding my nipples, circling them slowly at first, teasing the sensitive peaks until they hardened beneath his touch. He pinched one gently, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, tugging just enough to draw a soft, involuntary moan from my lips.
My back arched off the bed, responding instinctively to his touch, craving more of his exquisite attention. Damien hummed approvingly against my neck, sending sparks straight down my spine.
"You look so cute when you blush," he whispered, his voice low and rough with desire, lips brushing my ear. "All flushed and desperate for me. You could have all this and more if you’d just stop holding back, Oliver. Stop pretending you don’t want my hands on you... my mouth on you."
I gasped sharply as he tugged harder on my nipple, the mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain making my cock twitch against my stomach.
"Damien... stop," I managed to breathe out, but my words didn’t carry much weight. I didn’t want him to stop...the sensations were too overwhelming, flooding every nerve until I felt like I might come apart from it.
He chuckled softly, and that sound vibrated against my skin as he switched to my other nipple, giving it the same torturous treatment—circling, pinching, rolling, tugging, until both peaks ached and were hypersensitive.
"Stop? But you’re arching into my touch like you need it. So sensitive here... are you always this responsive, or is it just for me?"
His tone turned teasing, playful in a way that always unraveled me. "What’s wrong, baby? You’ve had plenty of experience with girls, right? Or are you secretly a virgin with someone who actually knows what they’re doing?"
"Shut..shut up, I’m not a virgin," I protested, the words coming out breathy and indignant, even as my hips shifted restlessly beneath him. Heat flooded my face from his words, embarrassment mixing with the growing arousal that clouded my thoughts. "I’ve done stuff. A lot of stuff. It’s just... you’re too much."
Damien lifted his head, that signature smirk playing on his lips while his dark eyes gleamed with amusement and hunger.
"Too much? That’s adorable. Look at you acting tough while your body begs for more." His hand drifted lower, fingers wrapping firmly around my aching cock. He stroked me slowly at first, a languid glide that spread the bead of precome already leaking, making the slide wet and smooth.
Another moan escaped me, my head falling back against the pillow as pleasure coiled tight in my core.
Before I could catch my breath or form another protest, Damien shifted down my body with fluid grace. His breath ghosted over my length, hot and teasing, and then his mouth was on me.
The wet heat enveloped the head of my cock in one smooth motion, his tongue swirling around the sensitive tip in slow, deliberate circles that made my toes curl. I gasped sharply, one hand flying to grip his hair as my hips instinctively twitched upward.
The suction was perfect, firm and rhythmic...as he took me deeper, his lips stretching around my shaft while his tongue pressed along the underside, tracing every vein with devastating precision.
"Fuck... Damien," I moaned, the words pouring out unfiltered as waves of pleasure crashed over me. He hummed around me, the vibration sending shocks up my spine, and I tightened my grip in his hair, torn between wanting to pull him off because it felt too intense and pushing him deeper because I never wanted it to end.
He took me further, relaxing his throat until his nose brushed against my skin, enveloping me completely in that tight, wet heat. The sounds were obscene, the soft, slick noises of his mouth working me over, his occasional gasp for air when he pulled back just to swirl his tongue around the head before diving back down.
He maintained a steady rhythm, alternating between long, deep pulls that had me seeing stars and shorter, teasing bobs focused on the sensitive head, his hand stroking what his mouth couldn’t reach.
Each flick of his tongue, every hollow of his cheeks, every glance up at me through those dark lashes with my cock between his lips pushed me closer to the edge.
"That’s it," he murmured when he pulled off briefly, voice husky and wrecked, strands of saliva connecting his lips to my throbbing length. "Look at you, falling apart so beautifully for me. So desperate... so pretty like this. Come on, Oliver. Let me taste just how much you want this."
The pleasure built relentlessly, coiling tighter in my belly as he took me deep again, sucking harder, his hand working in perfect sync. I was right there, teetering on the edge, hips stuttering as my release hovered just out of reach...
I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, disoriented and flushed, my heart pounding like it was trying to escape. The familiar scent of coffee beans and cardboard boxes surrounded me instead of warm skin and sheets.
I was in the storeroom at Joy’s Café, slumped against a stack of cushions where I had apparently dozed off during my break. The harsh fluorescent lights felt blinding compared to the hazy intimacy of the dream, and reality crashed over me with embarrassing force.
My face burned with shame as fragments of the dream replayed vividly...the sensation of Damien’s mouth, how expertly his tongue had swirled, the filthy praise whispered against my skin. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, muttering a quiet
"Fuck..." under my breath as I became painfully aware of the very real hardness straining against my pants. The bulge was obvious, impossible to ignore, and I shifted awkwardly on the cushions, trying to adjust discreetly without anyone noticing as they passed by the door.
Of all places to have a wet dream about Damien, it had to be at work. In the storeroom. During inventory duty. My self-deprecating thoughts spiraled as I glanced around, half-expecting Maya to burst in and catch me in this mortifying state.
Did I make any noise? Moan out loud? The possibility made my stomach twist with fresh embarrassment, and I buried my face in my hands again, groaning softly.
I was supposed to be organizing stock, not fantasizing about Damien’s mouth in ways that should definitely be illegal.
The dream kept replaying despite my efforts to push it away, the marks he left on my neck, the persistent attention to my nipples that left them aching even now, the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth taking me apart so completelyMy cock twitched at the memories, refusing to calm down, and I had to take several slow, deep breaths to will it away before I could safely leave the storeroom.
The line between fantasy and reality was blurring dangerously thin, and the worst part was how much I didn’t want to wake up. Part of me still lingered in that dream, craving the release that had been so cruelly denied.
I stayed hidden a few minutes longer, adjusting my clothes and splashing some water from a bottle onto my face to cool the flush on my cheeks.
Avoiding Damien for the rest of the day suddenly seemed like a great fucking idea...there was no way I could look him in the eye without remembering how he had looked up at me in the dream, lips stretched around me, eyes darkened with satisfaction.