•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
Damien didn’t give me nearly enough time to catch my breath after the first orgasm.
One moment I was still twitching on my back, oversensitive and a mess of sheets, and the next he had flipped me onto my stomach with an effortless strength that made any real objection feel almost pointless.
His hands gripped my hips and lifted them until I was properly face-down, chest pressed into the damp mattress, knees sliding apart on the expensive sheets while the ocean breeze drifted in through the open doors.
Cool air kissed the sweat along my spine and the insides of my thighs, making me shiver so hard I wondered if he could feel it.
He stayed like that for a moment, just looking at me...back arched, thighs spread, still glistening from earlier, and the weight of his gaze alone made my ears burn even though I couldn’t see his face.
Both of his hands came down to grip my ass, squeezing hard enough for me to feel a faint sting, thumbs spreading me open so he could take a good look.
The quiet, appreciative sound he made shot straight through me.
"Just look at you," he said, voice low and rough with pleasure. "Already trembling and I haven’t even put it in yet."
One hand shifted from my hip to press firmly between my shoulder blades, pinning me right where he wanted me, while the other slipped down and pushed two fingers inside me without much warning.
I was still slick from earlier, but the slow, stretch of his fingers pulled a broken sound out of my throat.
He worked me open like he had all the time in the world, curling and scissoring just to hear the wet, filthy noises and feel my breath hitching against the sheets.
Each brush of his fingers against that sensitive spot inside me made my hips jerk forward instinctively, and he just hummed like he’d found something especially entertaining.
"You get so fucking soft after you come, it’s unreal," he murmured, pushing deeper until my hips tried to push back on pure instinct. "Stay just like that. Don’t you dare drop your hips, baby."
I tried to say something bratty...maybe call him dramatic or tell him he was taking too long, but the words came out more fragile than I wanted when he added a third finger and twisted.
A helpless little noise escaped me anyway.
Holy shit...
By the time he finally pulled his hand away I was already trembling again, forehead pressed to the mattress, fists twisted in the fabric so hard my knuckles ached.
He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, making me feel every thick inch as he sank deeper, the stretch burning in the best way until he bottomed out and just stayed there, enjoying how I clenched around him on reflex.
He held me open with both thumbs to watch himself disappear inside, and the sight must have done something for him because the sound he made was almost reverent.
"Fuck—" The word burst from my lips when he finally started moving.
He went all out.
The first real thrust rocked me forward on the bed, deep and hard and steady, the wet sound of skin on skin already louder than the ocean outside.
One hand clamped down on my hip hard enough to leave a bruise while the other stayed pressed between my shoulders, keeping me face-down and exposed for him.
He pulled almost all the way out just to watch me try to follow him with my hips, then slammed back in with enough force that a high, broken noise escaped my throat.
My arms gave out a little; I ended up with my cheek mashed into the sheets, mouth open, every breath shoved out of me on the next thrust.
"Is that all? Come on, Damien." I managed, because admitting how good it already felt was completely out of the fucking question.
Damien’s low, breathless laugh vibrated through both of us. "Keep talking like that and I’ll make you wait even longer next time."
Oop, I better shut up.
He changed the angle on the next thrust, searching, and when he found the spot that made my whole body jolt he stayed on it ruthlessly...short, powerful snaps of his hips that had me moaning into the pillows whether I wanted to or not.
My knees kept sliding farther apart on their own the longer it went on. Every time I tried to push back to meet him he met me harder; the filthy slap of skin filled the room, and the occasional sharp thrust made my vision spark white at the edges.
He leaned down mid-stroke to bite the nape of my neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and the mix of teeth and the relentless drag of him inside me stripped away whatever was left of my earlier bravado.
I could feel myself dripping down my thighs; the sheets were definitely going to be wrecked.
"Harder already," I got out, voice cracking. "Fuck you—just—"
"Ask properly." He slowed without warning, grinding deep instead of thrusting, forcing me to feel exactly how full I was until I was squirming and cursing into the sheets.
Those slow, rolling hips made everything hotter, wetter, more unbearable. "Tell me what you want, Oliver. Use your words, I want to hear you say it."
Pride held out for maybe three more shallow rolls before it completely crumbled.
"Harder," I said, the word rough and reluctant. "D–deeper. Please...fuck, just move—"
That was all he needed.
He picked up the pace with a vengeance, one hand sliding under me to wrap around my cock and stroke in time with his thrusts.
The dual sensation had me pushing back to meet every snap of his hips even while broken sounds kept spilling out of me.
I was making noises I’d definitely deny later, high, needy, completely undignified and he seemed to relish every single one of them.
Then, without warning, he pulled out, flipped me onto my back, and folded me nearly in half...knees pushed toward my chest, ankles over his shoulders, so he could sink even deeper on the first thrust back in.
The stretch was almost too much; I gasped and clawed at his arms, nails digging in.
"Missed this pretty face," he said, voice strained yet fond, eyes locked on mine as he started fucking me in earnest again.
The new angle was devastating.
Each thrust dragged over that perfect spot until I was loud and open-mouthed, past the point of pretending I had any dignity left.
He made me keep asking for it...harder, faster, don’t stop!
Until the words blurred together into something needy and continuous.
The low, satisfied sounds he made every time I gave in only pushed me closer to the edge.
Every time a bratty comment tried to surface it melted into another moan, and his breathless little laugh at the sound of it only made everything worse in the best way.
Sweat dripped from his jaw onto my chest. I watched it fall and thought, somewhat hysterically, that I was never going to look at this bed the same way again.
He decided when it ended.
His hand tightened around my cock and stroked firmly while he pounded into me, and the combination dragged a second orgasm out of me that left me shaking and clenching around him so hard his rhythm finally stuttered.
I came with a broken sound that might have been his name, vision going white at the edges, whole body locking up around him.
He followed soon after, buried as deep as he could get, one hand fisted in my hair and the other gripping the back of my neck as he came with a rough, punched-out sound against my mouth.
A few slow, deep thrusts followed while he rode out the last of it, just to feel the overstimulated flutter of my body around him, before he finally stilled.
We collapsed forward together in a sweaty, messy heap, Damien still inside me, breathing hard against the side of my neck.
He pressed lazy open-mouthed kisses to my shoulder and the bite mark he’d left earlier, one arm heavy across my chest.
I stayed exactly where I was...twitching through the aftershocks, completely wrecked, and still trying to pretend I wasn’t exactly where I wanted to be.