Page 14 of Mine to Tease

“Lie back,” I command.

Anastasia does as I say while I finish removing my belt. I give it a good snap as I move around to the opposite side of the island. Confusion furrows her brows. “Trust me,” I tell her once more. I give her a soft kiss on her forehead and then wrap my belt around her wrists, looping the leather through the handle of the cabinet just beneath her to hold her in place.

15

Damon is sweet and unnerving, kind and gentle, and yet domineering and assertive all at once. As he stalks back around the island, his smokey eyes turn dark as they scan up and down my body. My core tightens under his gaze as if bracing for impact. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. My chest glistens with small droplets of sweat. My wrists sting under the bite of his belt. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in all my life. I can’t move. I can’t run. I can’t stop him. And yet, stranger than my current bound predicament, I don’t want to stop him. More than anything, I want to touch him—take off his shirt, run my hands across all the indentions of his muscles, wrap my arms around his neck and feel the same safety in his arms I felt on our walk home. Yes, strange indeed. Though, as Damon brings his hands to my knees, all other thoughts leave me just as he commanded. All I can focus on is him and what he’ll do next.

Damon’s touch is firm yet gentle. He moves his hands from my knees up, massaging my thighs. My underwear is already soaked through, and yet, the closer his hands get to that special spot between my legs, the more of a mess my body makes. Just as I think he’s about to push my skirt up, his hands retreat back down my thighs to my calves, and then to my ankles. I bite my lip, stifling a groan of impatience. I’m in no position to argue or draw his ire, but the anticipation is killing me. The yearning between my legs is becoming unbearable. I want him. I need him. I need to be filled by him, with him. Yet, his attention is on removing my shoes.

Damon removes my boots and socks, tossing them on the floor, and then lowers his lips to my ankle. He kisses up the length of my leg, doing just as I asked. He’s touching me everywhere a woman should be touched. As much as this is killing me, I’m loving every second of it. The way he savors my body and this moment makes me feel…sexy and appreciated, unlike the first time I was with a man. I arch my back as Damon’s lips reach the midpoint of my thigh. As I do, his belt bites into my flesh even more, but I don’t care. Somehow it makes all of this more arousing as is evident by the twitching of my clit. Damon’s mouth lingers on me as he moves his hands to my hips. Finally, he removes my skirt and what’s left of my underwear along with it.

Instinctively, I pinch my knees shut. My movement draws Damon’s eyes to mine. His gaze is narrowed and menacing as his lips press into a flat line. “I’m thirsty,” he says then. His voice is so low it almost sounds like a growl. It takes a minute for me to comprehend what he means, but as his hands move to my knees and his hungry gaze moves with them, I finally understand. He does not force my legs open, though his eyes are stuck to them as he waits for me to admit him to my thirst-quenching pussy. There’s something about this that feels more intimate than sex and more worrisome. His face grinding against me, covered in all of my juices. His lips sucking, tongue licking my most sensitive parts. What if it smells? What if it tastes weird? At least I have a fresh wax, but what if— And yet, my need for him wins against my insecurities. Slowly, I part my knees, butterflying myself on my kitchen island, ready to be devoured by the man standing before me.

Not wasting any more time, Damon moves his hands underneath my bottom. He lifts and positions me so that my clit is facing toward the ceiling. He keeps his hands on my ass, digging his fingers in as he lowers his lips to my most sensitive flesh. The first lick starts at my opening. I feel his tongue slip inside me ever so slightly. I moan, unable to contain myself any longer, and I wrap my legs around him to support myself and draw him closer as he continues his assault.

“You taste so good,” he says as he slips his tongue up and down my folds, slurping up the lubricant his touch has created. My breathing increases with each flick of his tongue and he hasn’t even made it to my clit yet. I watch as his head bobs up and down. Watching him pleasure me is so erotic, so arousing in a way I never could’ve imagined. But, as he finally shifts his attention to my clit, I see he chose this position for more than just my viewing pleasure.

“Mmm,” he moans, taking in my swollen flesh. Damon lifts his eyes to mine as his tongue dances across the round bulb of electric nerves. As our eyes meet, I see him fight a grin, pleased by my unraveling. I can hold his gaze for only a second before I’m forced to throw my head back. The sensation building beneath his tongue is only exasperated as he adjusts his hands, bringing one to my breast.

As he toys with my hardened nipple, he slides two fingers inside of me. My moans and pants are endless as every part of me burns with desire. I arch my back and rock my hips in response, increasing the pressure of his fingers. It’s as if my hips have a mind of their own as they move with him. Damon responds in like kind by switching from licking to sucking. He takes my clit into his mouth and doesn’t let go. It’s like he’s giving it a French kiss as his tongue dances across it while the pressure of his lips holds me in place. The speed of his fingers increases as he thrusts them into me, curling and pressing a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed. I scream out in pleasure as I lose control. I don’t even realize what’s happening until I feel a gooey warmth pool inside of me and a sense of calm take over me. My hips cease their movement, and my body lowers onto the cool countertop as waves of pleasure steal all my energy. I lie still with my eyes closed, unwilling to let it go. I want to live in this sensation forever. I’ve never felt so relaxed, so completely empty and full at the same time. My first orgasm.

I feel dazed as Damon pulls me into his arms. Somewhere during my euphoria, he must’ve untethered me. I lean into him and his warmth as he cradles me against his chest. I feel us moving, though I’m not sure where to until he plops down on the sofa, draping my favorite fuzzy blanket around me. This. This is what I wanted—to be touched, to be pleasured, to be held. I can’t believe Damon Dupont was the man to do it though. I don’t know how we ended up here or where we go from here. None of this feels real. All I know is that it feels good.

I rest my head against Damon’s chest, and he rests his chin atop my head as he rubs his hand up and down my back. His touch and the heat from his body helps to warm me in more ways than one. Something inside my chest bursts—not with pleasure or arousal, but with something else. Enjoyment? Sadness? Confusion?

I love the way it feels to be in his arms just as I loved the way it felt to have him walk me home. And yet, I know this isn’t the real Damon. Or, at least, not all of him. What just happened doesn’t erase everything I know about him, everything I hate about him. Maybe I’m sad because I wish it did. And maybe that desire, a desire for more moments like this one—and the one before this—is what has me confused. I don’t even know this man other than what he does for a living, that he has horrible taste in music, only wears black-colored clothing, loves to piss me off, and hates Brinkley… Is that it? Then again, if that’s it, then there is plenty left to learn about him that may be just as enticing as his touch.

“Did you enjoy yourself, baby bird?” he asks me then. I’m not sure why he calls me that, but I like it. Much better than princess.

“Very much so,” I say, finally opening my eyes to take him in. As I peer up at him, gone is the darkness in his eyes and the devilish grin he wore as he took in my naked body. Replacing it is a softness in his features and expression that melts my insides. Maybe this won’t last forever. But the way he looks at me makes me want it to last a little while longer. So, I fight off my unresolved feelings and rest my head against him once more. Though, as I do, I become astutely aware of the fact that I’m naked and the only thing he took off was his belt. “Wait, but you?—”

“Tonight wasn’t about me. Besides, there’s plenty of time for that if we continue this.” My eyes widen with a bit of hope. Regardless of any confusion I may have as to my feelings for Damon, I wouldn’t say no to more orgasms.

“And what exactly is this?” Damon shifts his eyes from me to the fireplace across the room as he contemplates my question, and I notice the softness leave him. He stops rubbing my back, and his body beneath mine becomes rigid.

“A mutually beneficial arrangement,” he finally says.

I nod and move out of his arms, wrapping the blanket tightly around me. “Arrangement,” I say as I sit next to him on the couch. “How very businesslike, contractual, detached.” This is the Damon I’ve come to know or loathe, as he so fittingly put it earlier.

He looks at me then. “I’m not the guy you fall in love with, Anastasia. I’m not boyfriend or husband material. It’s why I do things a certain way and that way isn’t always for everyone.”

My brows furrow as Damon’s words land heavy on me. Does he think I love him? His arrogance is enough to quell whatever confusing desire lingers in my blood. “Agreed. I’m not worried about falling in love with you, Damon, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious what you mean by a certain way of doing things.”

Damon shifts on the couch, positioning himself to face me. I tug my blanket tighter across my chest as a glimmer of that oh-so-intoxicating darkness returns to his eyes. It’s then that Brinkley comes running toward me from the direction of my bedroom, easing the tension between us. Perfect timing, my little prince. “I almost forgot about the fur ball,” Damon says as Brinkley hops into my lap. He licks my arm and then turns to face Damon as if defending my honor. I can only imagine the beady little glare on his face. Surprisingly, Damon gives him a smirk and a little rub on the head. Not surprisingly, Brinkley nearly draws blood as he snaps at him. “Jesus! He’s like a piranha.”

“He’s just protecting me! And he hates you. So, any excuse to come for you and he will.”

“Hmm, well, the feeling is mutual, buddy. And as far as your protection skills go, I think you need to go back to bootcamp. I had your mother tied up and screaming and what did you do? Run away and hide like the little bitch you are.”

“Damon!” I yell, slapping his shoulder. “He’s just a baby. You can’t speak to him that way.”

“He’s not a baby. He’s, in fact, an animal and fully grown at that. And it’s not like he understands.” He shrugs. “But if you want to play rough, come here.” Damon pulls me onto his lap, forcing Brinkley to bail off the couch just as quickly as he hopped on. As my legs spread over Damon’s and I wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself, the blanket falls away from me. Once more, I’m naked before him. Though this time I’m not as nervous.

“You never did answer my question,” I say as my eyes flick from his to his lips.

“Mm-hmm, right,” Damon says, his voice low. “Well, I like control.” As he speaks, his hands slip down my bare back to cradle my ass. “In fact, I need it. So, if we continue, it won’t be a conventional sexual relationship. There will be rules, games, toys, pleasure, and punishment—if you earn it.” He squeezes the soft skin of my bottom, drawing a gasp from me. Mmm, his touch reminds me of that day on the stairs. The one where he spanked me. I wonder if that was considered a punishment. Because if it was, I may need to do more naughty things.

“That sounds…interesting,” I say. It’s the only word that comes to mind, the only word I can muster as Damon’s gaze and hands on my body make it hard to focus.

---