Page 40 of Chosen

I tried to respond but as I slightly moved my mouth away from his cock, I felt him fill me up again, the length of him pressing against the back of my throat. I gasped and lightly choked on the feel of it before I relaxed against him, letting him lead the way with his grip in my hair. I then let out a shameless moan, my own cock throbbing in my pants as Damon continued to fuck my mouth like it’d always been his to fuck.

Owned.

This is what it felt like to be owned.

A pang of jealousy moved through me, suddenly irrationally envious of everyone else who’d ever gotten to experience this side of Damon. I wanted him to be all mine, just like I wanted to be all his, this connection between us so special and so sacred.

“There we go… good boy…” Damon groaned as he pushed his hips against my mouth again, his cock growing hard between my cheeks. “Such a good boy…”

Just then, a shudder moved through Damon, his grip on my hair getting tighter than before, almost like he was trying to keep me in place.

And then, he was coming in my mouth, his come flooding my tongue. I swallowed for him without thinking, not even letting a spare drop fall to the ground between us. When all was said and done, his hold on my hair turned gentle, before his fingers eventually moved away from me, completely.

“We should head back to the cabin,” he said, after letting out a deep sigh, his hands pulling up his pants, boxers, and belt.

“What about me?” I pouted, as I looked up at him.

“Consider it punishment for you thinking you were in control earlier.” He winked, before he bent down to press a soft kiss against my lips. “But don’t worry. I can be a very forgiving man. I won’t hold it against you for too long.”

12

DAMON

I still didn’t know how to talk about the past.

At least, not with Sam.

That had been a close call back in the woods, a moment I’d thankfully been able to shift to convincing Sam to get on his knees instead of continuing with the conversation. I just wasn’t ready to get into it with him, whether it turned into an argument or an interrogation, fielding a million questions about what we were doing together, how he was the first guy I’d ever been with…

All I knew was that I wanted Sam.

And I didn’t want to ever give him a reason to not want me.

After we’d come back from our walk, Sam had gone right back to work. I’d found enough to do around the cabin to keep me busy, like prematurely chopping wood for the winter, making sure the grounds around the cabin were well looked after. But as the sun started to set in the sky, I wondered if Sam would be interested in grabbing dinner together.

The question stayed on my mind as I made my way back inside the cabin, rounding the corner from the other side. I spotted Sam in the living room, with his laptop in front of him and a concerned look growing on his face.

“Sam?” I said his name, tentatively, as I walked up to him. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s on fire,” he murmured, his eyes still glued to his laptop screen. “And I don’t have any water. Or sand. Or baking powder. Everything’s on fire and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you in this moment?”

“What?” Sam squinted up at me, like I was speaking an alien language. “Did you just offer to try and help me?”

“Uh, has no one ever offered to do anything for you before?”

“Not really. Not when I was in the middle of a crisis.” Sam hummed before he went on. “Actually, could you grab me a hot chocolate?”

“Do you want one marshmallow or two?”

“I think we both know that I want two marshmallows, Damon.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “One marshmallow? That’s for amateurs.”

I smirked at him as I headed for the kitchen. It didn’t take me long to find the necessary ingredients, hot cocoa mix, milk, and of course, the marshmallows. I decided to make a cup for myself, too, swirling the ingredients together before setting two mugs on the counter. As the smell of hot chocolate soon wafted through the room, I grabbed for the mugs, cautious not to spill anything down my shirt—

What is this?

I was struck by the moment, frozen in place as I held the mugs in my hands.

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