Page 24 of Tear Me Down
I hear a small groan leave her mouth, and then she turns over, pushing her ass back into me before turning over to face me and causing my cock to twitch. I take a deep breath and try to shove the heat building up away. Now is not the time. She needs rest, and obviously more time to heal after what happened earlier tonight, but my little wolf is just as needy for me as I am for her. She’s become just as addicted, and who am I to deny her when our need for each other is so consuming?
She presses against me, snuggling into me as if I was all of the warmth she needed, and buries her nose in my neck. I can hear the deep inhale she takes and feel the small smirk that sprouts on her lips. She’s awake now, and as we nestle our faces into one another, she moves her hands to the bottom of my jaw.
Just go back to sleep asshole, you've hurt her enough today,I tell myself, fighting the war between my head and my dick. My inability to wait until she’s fully healed has proven that I truly have no patience. The need to devour her earlier tonight was only a glimpse of what I’ve wanted to do to her. That all-consuming compulsion to claim her in every way possible has taken over since last week, and I plan to prove to her, once again, that every trace of her belongs to me. Her mind, her body, her soul. Even the future that lies ahead, including her womb and her lineage. That little pill she continues to take in the morning doesn’t mean a fucking thing to me.
War continues as I try to tame the animal that lives inside my body, the rabid creature that is feral for her. That is, until my little wolf brings her face up to mine and gently pushes our lips together, enchanting me and pulling me in like the temptress she is. Her perfect lips move against mine in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m all too eager to reciprocate. My tongue only teases the seam of her lips before it’s greeted with her own.
Her arms snake around my neck and latch on. Those tantalizing nails scratch at the base of my scalp and send tremors through my spine. Her leg drags up mine and links around my hip, pulling my body as close as she can, and teases my now hardened cock with her entrance. I feel her warmth. How wet and ready she is for me on the length of my dick as she moves her hips, grinding against my shaft and exciting the swollen tip that’s ready to enter her.
“I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” I force through gritted teeth, attempting one last assault on my libido that I know is useless.
“You won’t,” she says so sure. So absolute, and that’s where I crumble, throwing up my white flag of surrender and giving in as she presses her lips to mine once again, acting as my undoing.
I cup her face in my hand to embrace her kissing. Her tongue massages mine with every movement. I love how easy she feels. How every graze of her tongue and every touch from her seems so natural, as if our connection was etched into fate—which I know deep in my soul that it was. Our love serves as a beacon. A testament that is held above anything and everything else.
Tenderly, I push her on her back and place myself between her welcoming legs. The way she runs her fingers over my scalp and holds me close makes my heart skip a beat. Her desperation pours from her, and I soak it all in, wrapping my other arm around her hips and lifting her up as I push myself into her cautiously. I don’t fight the groan that slips from my mouth as I slide inside her vice grip, sinking into her as she sucks me in with her sweet moans.
I can feel how badly she needs me, how desperate she is to have me close. I revel in that, too, falling deep into the abyss losing myself inside her. Our hips move in perfect sync, slowly and forcefully, as I aim to trudge so deep that I claw my way into her soul. I can’t let her angelic moans coerce me into being any rougher. Our souls just need to collide for a while. Feel and embrace each other in our cosmic comfort.
One of her hands remains on my face while the other moves to my back. She’s pulling me closer to her, and I bury my face in her neck as I feel our bare bodies caress each other. The waves her hard nipples cause as they graze my chest cause my whole body to tingle, and the tight skin on her neck bounces back with every bite and kiss I place—like it’s screaming for more. She uses her delicate hands to move my face back to her lips as she kisses me again, pulling me even deeper into her ocean.
“I love you, Damien,” she says to me quietly. Those sweet words vibrate through my ears and into my heart, sending chills throughout their path. They could be the only four words she ever speaks again, and I’d never need more.
“I love you too, little wolf,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, and I can feel the shiver that wracks her body at the contact. Her hips grind into me with every thrust, taking me in and asking for more, like a greedy queen. As I kiss her neck again, her grip on my hair tightens, leading me to give into my impulses and bite down on the space above her shoulder. Not enough to hurt her, but hard enough to mark her. Anyone that looks at her tomorrow will see that she belongs to me, and even if my ring on her finger isn’t enough, my bruising marks and cum dripping out of her cunt sure will be.
She tightens around me, pulling me in deeper as she claws at my arm to bring me closer. The pressure builds at the base of my spine, and I can't help but pick up the pace, desperate to spill myself inside her again and make good on my promise. I reach down with my hand to begin massaging her clit slowly, in time with my thrusts.
“Say it again,” she whimpers in my ear, before her head flies back onto the pillow, causing my cock to twitch inside her. She arches her perfect body into me, keeping me impossibly close, as her tight walls starts to flutter around my throbbing dick.
“I love you…” I thrust into her and press against her clit harder. Deeper. Making each movement more impactful to bring her over the edge with me. “Ashia…” again, “Morgan…” again, “Hartley…” and again. I feel her legs begin to shake around me, and her moans grow loud and stuttered, causing my balls to tighten and draw up. “Now breathe and come for me, baby girl,” I grunt, and release into her at the sound of her last moan, thrusting one last time and as deeply as I can before stilling inside her. She comes with me, clenching down on me and flooding my cock with her ecstasy.
As we both come down from the stars and plummet back to earth, I don’t move. I don't dare. Not with how she clings to me and practically begs for me to stay inside her—to stay in our perfect bubble where everything is right and nothing can hurt us. A place that only exists to be our haven. Being her solace, her comfort, means everything to me. She loves me, almost as much as I love her, and that’s all I need.
Her.
Chapter ten
Ashia
The Next Day
Trees pass us by, gliding past as smooth as the car rides, and the drive to the Attic is surprisingly quiet—even with Carter and Serena in the back seat. We're all excited, but nervous. Today is going to be a busy day, but I'm just happy to help however Damien needs me to.
Once I finally got myself together and came downstairs earlier, I heard Carter and Damien talking about the plan for the day. I'm not sure what all the intake will require, but I know Damien needs to inspect the Attic before the mercenaries arrive. He hasn't seen it in person either since the last time he oversaw the construction. The poor thing has barely left my side since before last night, and while he's anxious to get the Attic up and running, I know he's worried about his father coming.
Damien woke up again last night, at four in the morning. It actually kind of scared me the way he jerked awake, covered in sweat. He tried to tell me a little about his dreams once he settled down, but he doesn’t really remember them once he wakes up. Stumbled over the few blips he recalled and got frustrated. I tried explaining to him that he doesn’t need to remember them in detail to remember how he feels about them, but that still didn’t make much sense to him. He just said that he was being ridiculous. Of course, I tried to shoot that down, but he insisted that he was alright and ‘just needed to get over it.’
The aggravation carried onto everything he did this morning. He was in full commando mode, and giving out orders left and right, checking in with Chris and Ezra to make sure the gun shipment was received properly and that everything was finished and ready. I know he's frustrated, but I wish he would open up about how he’s feeling.
He’s always so tough. So strong. I’m not sure he’s ever felt like this. There has to be so much that he harbors deep down and doesn’t let slip. So many things he locks away and doesn’t allow himself to feel. He hasn’t brought up Henry since I was poisoned, he’s never talked about Emma—about how he felt or what happened after she died, and he hasn’t really talked about what happened last week. Besides love and anger, he hasn’t really shown what else he feels. Perhaps he doesn’t allow himself to feel anything else. Hell, he didn’t even believe he felt love until recently.
Is he afraid of feeling? Since he does so intensely, I find that hard to believe, but this seems new for him. With everything he’s been through and seen I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to him before. I’m shocked that every dream he has isn’t filled with the faces of the men he’s killed or the things he’s witnessed. I mean, his best friend died, and I’m not really sure how. That’s howlittle he’s talked about it, and while he continues to pretend like it doesn’t bother him, it’s clearly starting to mess with him.
I kind of envy that. His ability to act like nothing is eating away at him, even though it makes me feel helpless. I don’t want him to wake up scared every morning in a panic and not know why. He needs to take it easy and make sure he gets enough sleep.
At least from my experience, the dreams and reactions were worse when I was tired. I know with what he does, though, it might be difficult for him to get enough rest, especially when he’s constantly worried about me. I had mentioned going back to work soon, so that maybe he could relax a little during the day, but you would have thought I shot his dog, if he had one.
It’s not that he doesn’t want me working at all. He understands that I need work to help me feel normal, but he’s terrified to let me. Especially after I got sick last night, he said he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to go back to work until I’m at one hundred percent.
