Page 104 of Pawn

On his last word, he pushes himself inside me, my teeth sinking into his rigid shoulder before my ass hits something cold. His hand against my chest, his cock still inside, he presses me against it, my back near the edge, my hair hanging off. If I didn’t trust him as much as I do now, I’d be screaming. But when he thrusts inside me, I’m screaming for something else.

“Fuck me!” I demand, my legs wrapped around him, my tits to the sky.

“Like the goddess you are?” He grunts, plowing into me. “Like the queen I fucking love?”

“Yes!” Reaching for the edge of the ledge with my nails, my eyes on the clouds and the birds, Damien pulls out before he pushes inside again. Then again. Each time pushing deeper than the last until … “Fuck yes!” The tip of his cock hits my spot over and over, the sky blurring above before he pulls me inside. We collapse on the floor by the window, my easel toppling to the ground. It’s a good thing we own this place because with how many times we’ve trashed it in the same way, we’d owe a hell of a lot.

“Say it!” he growls, thrusting into me, his forehead sweaty as he pins my hands over my head. “Fucking say it, Joelle.”

I only like to fight him because it’s fun. But those three words have been flying out easier than ever the last few months. And again it does, my orgasm rolling in like the train I rolled in on. “I love you, Damien!”

“Fuuck!” He pulls on my lip when he comes, his cock throbbing inside my tightening hole. He keeps thrusting until I’m climaxing again, my body feeling like we’re floating in the air, drifting through space and time. When he pulls out, his load streaming down my thighs, that blissful smile forms on my face again.

“That’s right, Rowland.” Planting another kiss on my lips, he smiles against mine. “I’m your god. And you’re my universe.”

He collapses next to me, but I still have questions while I catch my breath. “Now, what the fuck was that about?”

He chuckles, leaning on his elbow so he can trace my naked body with his index finger. It gets the shivers rolling again. “You remember the investment I made in that foster care system? From The Grove?”

“How can I forget? Those kids really need the help. Believe me.”

“You turned out alright.” Tilting my chin higher he gives me another kiss. “And now these kids might have a better chance too.”

“What’re you talking about?” He’s speaking in riddles again

Ding!

“And who the hell is that?” Damien and I don’t really have visitors. Not ones we don’t know are coming. While we trust each other, we’re still working on other people.

We were able to get the case against us dropped thanks to Damien’s filthy rich lawyers. So that doesn’t mean there should be any cops at the door. Though it could be Cindy Huang coming to seek revenge for us outing Edwin’s shady campaign practices but let’s be real. Edwin Huang never gave a fuck about the town. Only its money.

Damien rises off the floor with another peck on my lips. Sweet, delicious peppermint and whiskey. “Clean yourself up, Rowland.” He winks over his shoulder, pulling his pants from the floor. “We have company.”

Ding-Ding!

“Company?” I sit up on my elbows as he tosses my shirt at me. In another few seconds, a towel comes flying my way. “Wait, you said you wouldn’t make this a big deal,” I remind him, dabbing at my thighs.

“I’m not,” he says, hand on the front door handle. “She is.”

When he slides open the large black metal door to the loft, a smile spreads across my face, shirt back on my frame. “Willow!” I’m off the ground in a flash, running across the large open space to my sister who I swear is taller already.

“Careful! I’m gonna drop these.” She steadies her balance, a large bouquet of balloons with the number eighteen on them in one hand. A pink box in the other.

Taking the box from her, I usher her in the loft before another smile hits me. Glancing at Damien, he has one too. They’re all glazed. All eight of them. “Donuts.”

Damien waggles his eyebrow, sitting on the large l-shaped sofa against the wall. “Wanna eat one off my dick?”

“Ew!” Lea’s voice comes from the door and when I turn around, she’s pulling our door open. “Is this what I’m walking into?”

Allie’s behind her. “What’re you walking into?”

I should’ve known Damien wasn’t going to be the one to listen. He never is. But I’m actually happy to see these two.

“Ask Damien,” Lea looks around, a robin egg blue bag in her hand. She holds it out to me on long red pointy nails. “Are you guys slumming it now?”

“If you call millions of dollars for this historic loft in the Old Port slumming it,” Damien pipes up. “Then yeah.”

“King.”

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