Chapter 216: Pride Cometh Before The Tongue (18+)
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Before I could respond, he had already thrown one strong arm around my waist, lifted me off my feet, and tossed me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.
The fuck?!
The surprised noise I made was pure shock and indignation, and I kicked out, not hard enough to hurt him, just to express my displeasure...as water dripped from us, creating a messy trail on the stone path.
"Put me down, you shitty jerk!" I demanded, smacking the nearest part of him...his backside, for emphasis. "I can walk, asshole! This is unnecessary, what if the attendants see?! Damien—!"
He just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, and continued toward the more secluded part of the villa as if carrying a soaking wet, complaining not-a-boyfriend boyfriend was the most normal thing ever.
"You’re lighter than you look when you’re thrashing about. It’s kind of cute."
"I’ll get you for this!"
"You can try."
By the time he opened the bedroom door, I had exhausted my creative insults and settled for a steady stream of complaints that he easily ignored.
He dropped me onto the bed without ceremony, expensive sheets instantly soaking through beneath my back and followed me down before I could sit up.
The kiss he gave me then was different from the ones in the shower: deeper, hungrier, the kind of open-mouthed claim that clearly showed the earlier round had just taken the edge off.
"It’s almost fascinating," he muttered between kisses, one hand sliding up my side under the wet fabric of my shirt. "The fact that it’s getting harder and harder to control myself around you. You have no idea."
I was still trying to think of a good comeback when he kissed me again, and any coherent thought I had slipped away for it’s on little dive into the ocean.
His mouth moved to my throat, sucking lightly just under my jaw while...cold air hit my skin, immediately followed by the heat of his palms gliding over my chest, thumbs brushing my nipples until they tightened.
I made a sound that was definitely not dignified.
"Not still hungry?" he asked against my collarbone, his voice filled with wicked amusement.
"On second thought, I’m hungry as hell," I managed, which earned me another low laugh and the abrupt removal of my shorts.
The wet fabric peeled away with an indecent sound; my cock sprang free, flushed and aching, and Damien’s eyes darkened as he looked at it.
He wrapped a hand around me without preamble, hot, firm, just right and gave a slow stroke that made my hips jerk.
"Look at you," he murmured, almost to himself. "My perfect baby."
His thumb swiped over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and I bit back a groan. "I think I should return the favor properly this time."
Before I could decide whether to make a joke or plead, he shifted down the bed, settled between my thighs, and took me into his mouth in one smooth, wet slide.
Heat and pressure closed around me; his tongue flattened along the underside as he sank deeper, and the noise that escaped my throat was embarrassingly loud.
One of his hands pinned my hip to the mattress while the other cupped my balls, rolling them gently as he sucked.
Water continued to drip from us onto the sheets.
Each pull of his mouth was slow and wet, the same relaxed rhythm I’d used on him earlier, and the knowledge that he was paying me back made the pleasure sharper.
I tangled a hand in his wet hair, not pushing, just holding on.
"Damien...f–fuck—ahh!"
He hummed around me in response, the vibration shooting straight up my spine, hollowing his cheeks on the next upstroke.
The combination of his mouth and the lingering warmth of the shower, plus the way his free hand kept stroking whatever length he wasn’t swallowing, quickly shattered whatever composure I’d been pretending to have.
My thighs tensed; my breathing turned ragged. He must have sensed it because he pulled off just long enough to glance up at me with that same devilish smirk, lips shiny and red.
"Still thinking about dinner?"
"I will end you," I gasped, which only made him grin wider before he swallowed me down again.
This time faster, wetter, taking me deeper until the head nudged the back of his throat. The sound he made was pure filth.
I came with almost no warning, hips stuttering, a broken moan escaping me as I spilled across his tongue.
He took every pulse, swallowing around me, then licked me clean with slow, thorough strokes of his tongue until I was twitching and hypersensitive.
Only then did he crawl back up my body, his mouth finding mine again so I could taste myself on his lips.
The kiss was softer now, almost lazy, but his cock was already hard against my hip again, proving that the earlier round really had just taken the edge off.
"Round two," he murmured against my mouth, "and this time I’m not stopping until you’re the one making those noises into the pillow."
I was definitely not gonna to argue with that.
Damien’s lips left mine, trailing down my body in a slow, nearly teasing manner.
The expensive sheets beneath us were already soaked, and the lingering scent of salt and skin from the ocean clung to us both.
Every kiss he placed on my collarbone, the center of my chest, and the soft skin just above my navel felt intentional, like he was marking a path that he had no plans of rushing.
By the time he settled between my legs and pushed my thighs apart with both hands, I was already breathing harder than I probably should’ve been.
The cool air hit places that really weren’t ready to be exposed this soon after sunset, and the wet sheets clung to my back in a way that should’ve been uncomfortable but somehow only heightened the urgency of the moment.
"Such a pretty hole..." He murmured, almost to himself than to me.
Then, he lowered his head further than I expected, much further than anyone had gone before and the first warm, wet glide of his tongue over me left my entire body jolting as if I had just been shocked.
What the actual fuck?!
What the heck was he up to now?!
Instinctively, I tried to slam my thighs shut, my face burning so hot I could feel it in my ears.
"Hey, w–what the hell are you doing?! That’s— that’s dirty!"
Damien looked up at me from between my legs, completely unfazed, water still beading on his shoulders, a smug little smile creeping into the corner of his mouth.
Seeing him there, so calm and clearly enjoying my embarrassment, only made the flush creep higher.
His tongue had already left a shiny trail, and the fact that he seemed to be considering a second helping instead of something scandalous was doing nothing to help my composure.
"It’s not dirty," he said, his voice low and almost casual, as if we were chatting about the weather instead of the fact that his mouth was doing something completely new to me. "I’m doing this because it’s you."