•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
The kiss was messy, hard, almost angry, with teeth clashing and breath mingling in short bursts that left no room for the earlier argument to continue.
Damien made a low sound against my mouth, kissing back harder, one hand tangling in my hair while the other found my waist, pulling me against him, making it impossible to focus on anything but the heat between us and the fact that he was finally there, even if he was being a pain in my ass about it.
His tongue fought against mine instead and the gloves fell somewhere at our feet, but I barely noticed.
We stayed locked in that heated moment for what felt like forever, kissing with a desperation that felt more like claiming than greeting.
When Damien finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against mine, breath uneven, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen, filled with enough intensity that my previous confusion about his mood shifted into something more pointed and personal.
"If you really missed me," he murmured against my lips, voice low and rough, "then prove it."
I stared up at him, still breathless and flushed, feeling the challenge settle between us like a live wire I hadn’t agreed to touch.
"What the hell does that even mean, idiot? How am I supposed to prove anything when you’re looking at me like I personally invited Jeremy over for a candlelit dinner and some sexy time while you were busy dealing with your family and airline staff?"
"Be quiet and do as I say, Oliver."
I turned away, who did fuck did he think he was? Ordering me to be quiet like some army commander.
"Who said you could tell me what to do–?"
His grip tightened slightly in my hair, a gentle yet firm pressure guiding my attention back to the demand in his expression.
"On your knees."
The words hit me hard, and I bristled at his tone, even as my body reacted far more than my mind wanted to admit.
Damien watched every flicker of hesitation on my face, and after a charged moment where I thought about telling him where he could stick that order.
I chose to go down, reluctantly giving in to the mix of irritation and unwanted arousal that had been building since the very first heated word.
"Good," he murmured, satisfaction evident in the single word.
I looked up at him from the floor, the position suddenly making everything feel even more charged and exposed under the quiet lights of the apartment.
Damien’s hand remained in my hair, guiding gently as he leaned against the wall, bracing one hand against the plaster for balance.
His other hand went to unzip his pants, and my eyes widened as I finally got why I was kneeling beneath him.
Yeah...I was starting to think I was rather slow went it came to dealing with Damien.
That wasn’t a good look on me, I know.
He pulled out that weaponized cock of his, tapping the red tip against my lips.
"Suck it." He said, "Show me who you belong to."
And then I was taking him in my mouth before I was even aware of what I was doing, the familiar heat and weight of him grounding me like nothing else had managed all weekend.
Damien’s hand stayed buried in my hair from the first moment, not forcing yet but holding with enough pressure that I felt the quiet claim in every finger, and when I looked up the intense blue of his eyes was already locked on me as if he intended to watch every second of what he was about to take.
"Open wider," he murmured, voice low and rough with the leftover anger that still hadn’t fully burned off.
"That’s it...take it. Show me how much you missed me instead of letting that bastard hang around you."
I obeyed, lips stretching around the thick heat of him as he guided himself deeper with a slow, controlled roll of his hips.
I found myself desperate to please him...
The first thrust toward the back of my throat made me choke softly around him, eyes watering almost at once, and the quiet, broken sound that escaped me only seemed to feed whatever dark satisfaction was driving him.
Damien’s free hand braced harder against the wall while the one in my hair tightened, holding me in place as he began to fuck my mouth with the kind of measured roughness that left no room for pretense.
"Fuck—look at you, Sunshine." he growled, the words spilling between heavier breaths as he pushed deeper.
The head of his cock pressing against the tight resistance of my throat until tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
"Already gagging on it like you were made for this. Jeremy would never get to see you like this, this mouth is mine, these sounds are mine. Say please if you want more of it."
A muffled, desperate "please" vibrated around him before I could stop it, the word wet and broken as he used the grip in my hair to pull me further onto his cock.
The next thrust was harder, longer, sliding past the point of comfort until my throat fluttered and clenched around the intrusion and another choked sound was forced out of me.
Damien watched every second of it with that dark, possessive intensity, the earlier jealousy still sharp in the set of his jaw even as low, filthy praise kept falling from his lips.
"That’s it...take it deeper. Good boy. Fuck, the way your throat squeezes when I push in... Keep those pretty eyes on me." He grunted. "I want you to remember exactly who you’re on your knees for."
But because I was a certified brat, I scraped my teeth lightly along the underside of him just once, the bratty impulse still alive even while my eyes watered and saliva began to slip down my chin, and the sharp curse that left him was pure heat.
His hips snapped forward harder in answer, the pace turning properly rough as he throat-fucked me in short, deep strokes that left me gasping wetly every time he pulled back enough for air.
The wet, filthy sounds of it filled the quiet apartment, skin against lips, the soft choked noises I couldn’t hold back, the low continuous murmur of his dirty talk that somehow made everything feel more intense rather than less.
"Please—" I managed again between thrusts, the word barely coherent around the stretch of him, and Damien’s answering groan was almost a snarl.
"Begging already? Perfect...keep begging while I use this pretty mouth the way I should have the second I walked through that door. You’re going to take every inch and swallow everything I give you, understood? No one else gets to have this. Not Jeremy, not anyone. Only me."
The hand in my hair guided without fully forcing, but the rhythm had become relentless...deep, wet, and unapologetically rough as he fucked into the tight heat of my throat and watched me take it with tears streaking down my cheeks and my hands braced against his thighs for balance.
Every time I looked up through blurred vision he was still staring down at me like he intended to burn the image into place forever, overwriting whatever picture of Jeremy in our hallway had been sitting in his head.
His thumb brushed my cheek once in a gesture that was almost gentle against the rest of the roughness, wiping at the mess of saliva and tears even as he kept thrusting deep enough to make my throat spasm around him.
When he finally came it was with a low, guttural sound that seemed to vibrate through both of us, the thick heat of him spilling across my tongue and down my throat as he held me there through every pulse, making sure I took everything he had to give.
I swallowed around him because the intensity in his expression left no other option, the taste of him and the lingering pressure of his fingers in my hair making the moment feel heavier than any of the earlier arguments had managed.
Damien stayed braced against the wall for several long seconds afterward, breathing hard, hand still resting in my hair while the anger that had driven him simmered lower without fully disappearing.
He pulled me slowly back up, thumbs brushing over my swollen, spit-slick lips as he studied me in silence for a moment that stretched longer than either of us seemed prepared for.
My lips and throat felt puffy and used, my breathing still uneven, and Damien stared down at me like he was weighing whether the jealousy had been satisfied or if it was only settling into something quieter and more unresolved