Page 66 of Pretty When He Bleeds

The air between us shifts, heat sparking as his words sink in. We got our results back this afternoon—both clean obviously. My smirk fades, replaced by something darker that only Damon ever seems to pull out of me.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, my voice low.

His lips twitch, but it’s not a smile—it’s that smirk that makes my pulse kick up. “Good answer,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up my thighs, tugging me forward until I’m pressed against him.

His mouth crashes against mine, and I meet him with just as much heat, my hands fisting in his shirt to pull him closer. Damon doesn’t kiss like he’s asking for permission—he kisses like he’s already taken everything, and I can’t get enough of it.

He bites down on my bottom lip, and I groan, the sharp sting shooting straight to my groin. “You like that?” he mutters against my mouth, his voice rough with need.

“Yeah,” I breathe, tilting my head to kiss him harder. “Give me more.”

Damon growls low in his throat, his hands sliding under my shirt, dragging it up and over my head before tossing it to the floor. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me against him as he kisses down my neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

“Three days without you,” he mutters, his lips brushing against my skin. “You think I’m just gonna let you walk out of here without remembering who you fucking belong to?”

“Big talk,” I manage, my breath hitching as his teeth scrape over my collarbone. “You gonna back it up?”

He pulls back just enough to glare at me, his green eyes blazing. “Lay the fuck down, you brat.”

I arch a brow, but the heat in his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, and I don’t argue. I move back onto the mattress, my legs spread just enough to make him swear under his breath.

Damon yanks his shirt over his head, his tattoos twisting and shifting with every movement, and I let myself drink him in—the lines of his muscles, the way his jeans hang low on his hips, the glint of the chain around his neck.

“You’re staring,” he says, his voice rough as he undoes his belt.

“Obviously. You’re fucking hot,” I shoot back, my lips twitching.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he kicks off his jeans. “You’re such a fucking pain in the ass,” he mutters, climbing onto the bed and settling between my legs.

“You love it,” I say, my voice soft but teasing.

“Yeah,” he mutters, his hands sliding up my thighs to grip my hips. “I do.”

The confession is quiet, almost lost in the space between us, but it makes something in my chest tighten. Before I can say anything else, Damon leans down, kissing me hard enough to make my head spin.

He makes quick work of my jeans and boxers, then his hands are everywhere—gripping, stroking, teasing—and I feel like I’m coming apart before he’s even inside me.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs against my lips, his hand wrapping around my cock, stroking me slow and dirty.

“Fuck, yes,” I gasp, my hips jerking into his touch. “I need you, Damon.”

He pulls back, his green eyes locking onto mine as he slicks himself up with lube from the nightstand, the sight of him stroking his cock making my breath catch.

“You want the pain, baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” I breathe, my fingers digging into the sheets. “Do it. Make me feel it.”

Damon groans, lining himself up and pressing forward, the stretch burning in the best fucking way. My head falls back, a broken sound slipping from my throat as he pushes deeper, filling me completely.

I arch against him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I adjust to the stretch. “Move.”

“Not yet,” he says, his voice rough as he holds me there, making me feel every inch of him. “I want you to feel it. I want you to remember this when you’re gone.”

“Damon,” I growl, my hips shifting against him in a desperate attempt to get him to move.

He laughs and finally starts to move, his thrusts slow and teasing. The drag of him inside me is everything I didn’t know I needed. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by his low growls and my gasping moans.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his hand wrapping around my throat, pressing just enough to make my vision blur. “Fucking perfect, taking me so good. You love it, don’t you?”

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