Page 61 of Pretty When He Bleeds

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a sharp inhale as he ruts against me, his morning wood pressing into the curve of my ass. “Fuck,” he groans, his voice strained. “Need to feel you, baby.”

My stomach tightens at his words, and his hips grind slowly against my ass. The heat between us is unbearable, and for a moment, I lose myself in the sensation of his lips, his hands, his body.

“We can’t,” I manage, my voice shaky as I remind him. “Not until the tests come back.”

“I know,” he mutters, but the way his hips grind against me says otherwise.

His hand moves again, tugging my boxers down enough to bare my ass before he grabs the lube from the bedside table. The sound of the cap popping open sends a shiver down my spine, and I bite my lip, trying not to lose my fucking mind as he slicks himself up.

Damon doesn’t waste any time, his hands gripping my thighs as he slips his cock between them. The heat of him against my skin is almost too much, and I can’t stop the noise that escapes me when he starts to move.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his breath hot against my ear. “You feel so fucking good, Roman.”

I can’t respond, my brain short-circuiting as the heat of him—the weight of him—takes over. His chest presses against my back, his lips returning to my neck as he moves, slow and steady, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

“You like that, Hotshot?” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough and teasing.

I nod, biting back a moan as his teeth nip at my shoulder. “Yeah,” I manage, my voice strained.

“Good,” he says, his hands tightening on my hips. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re covered in our cum.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep quiet, but it’s useless. The friction, the heat, the sound of his cock sliding between my thighs—it’s too much, and I can’t stop the soft moan that slips out.

“That’s it,” he says, his tone full of smug satisfaction as he thrusts harder, his cock grinding against me in a way that makes my whole body shiver. “Fucking addictive.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, but my voice trembles, and he just laughs.

“Why?” he asks, his teeth grazing my shoulder. “You don’t like hearing how good you are for me? How fucking perfect you feel?”

“Damon—”

“Say my name again,” he growls, his hand slipping around to grip my cock, stroking me in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Say it.”

“Damon,” I gasp, my nails digging into the sheets as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding faster, harder, the slick heat of him driving me closer to the edge.

“Good boy,” he mutters, his voice thick with pride as he fucks between my thighs, his breath hot against my ear. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful like this.”

I groan, my hips bucking against his hand as he strokes me harder, his thumb brushing over the tip in a way that has my whole body trembling.

“Damon, I’m—fuck,I’m close,” I manage, my voice breaking on a moan.

“I’m right behind you, baby. Make it messy.”

His words hit me like a freight train, and I fall apart, my release spilling over his hand and onto the sheets as my body shakes with the force of it.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering as he thrusts faster, chasing his own release. The sound of his moan, low and desperate, sends another shiver down my spine, and I feel him spill between my thighs, hot and sticky.

He doesn’t pull away immediately, his arms wrapping around me as he presses a kiss to my shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice hoarse. “I’m good.”

Damon chuckles, his breath warm against my skin. “Good.”

For a while, neither of us moves, the silence between us heavy but not uncomfortable. But even as I lie there with my body still buzzing, my mind is elsewhere.

I need to talk to him. I need to know what’s going on.

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