Page 38 of Curvy Cabin Fever
But Morgan is watching me respectfully, nodding slowly. “I’ll leave you if you want me to, Aria,” he says, his voice thick with longing.
Damien drops his head to my stomach, holding my hands on either side of me so he can drop soft kisses, his hair tickling my skin.
“I don’t mind. If youwantto stay, that is?” I whisper as Damien nips my skin, demanding my attention. “Damien!” I hiss before he kisses the spot better, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Focus onme.”
I suck in a breath as he hooks his fingers on my underwear, teasing me like he’s going to yank them down.
“Eyes on me, got it?” Damien pauses, his mouth hovering over my pussy.
“Got it,” I choke out, aware of Morgan breathing heavily beside me.
“Tell me what you want,” Damien commands, watching me like a predator toying with his prey.
I squirm beneath him and shrug slightly, feeling ridiculous.
He knows what I want, surely?
I want his tongue inside of me, then I wanthiminside of me.
“I’m going to need words, Aria.”
Morgan sucks in a breath before muttering, “Fuck.”
Yeah, my sentiments exactly, Morgan.
“You,” I answer finally, staring down at him.
“More.”
I swallow. “Licking me. Down there.”
“Good girl.”
Damien drags his nose down the middle of my underwear, inhaling my scent like an animal. His breath is hot against the damp fabric, sending a shiver through me. The first stroke of his tongue is slow, deliberate, pressing the soaked cotton tight against me, teasing me with the promise of what’s coming next.
I jolt at the contact, my thighs trembling as a delicious, maddening pressure builds. He flicks his tongue over my clit through the barrier; the sensation muted but no lessintoxicating. The friction of wet fabric and firm strokes makes my breath hitch, the need coiling deep in my belly.
“Fuck…” I inhale, throwing my head back onto the bed. I lift my hips greedily, needing more.
Damien taps my thigh, a silent reminder.Eyes on me.
I force myself to look, and the sight of this man between my thighs nearly wrecks me. His lips are parted, his eyes dark and burning as he watches my reactions like he’s memorizing them. He drags his tongue lower, flattening it against my entrance, pressing against the damp fabric. Heat pools between my legs, an unbearable ache that has me gripping the sheets.
His fingers replace his mouth, his touch firmer now, massaging slow, purposeful circles against my soaked panties. The friction is torment, the teasing relentless, every touch just enough to make me crave more.
The pleasure builds, almost all-consuming, my body trapped in this unbearable in-between—on edge, desperate, ready to shatter, but completely at his mercy.
And I fucking love it.
Damien smirks against my thigh, the warmth of his breath teasing my overheated skin. His fingers stroke lazy circles against my clit through the wet fabric, just enough pressure to make my body tense, to keep me teetering on the edge without letting me fall.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “And I’ve barely touched you.”
I let out a strangled sound, my fingers still gripping the sheets, my thighs twitching beneath him. “Damien…please.”
He hums, dragging his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh before sucking a mark there, sending another wave of heat straight to my core. My hips roll up, chasing the pressure of his fingers, the teasing stroke of his tongue—anything to push me over. But he just chuckles darkly, pressingme down with a firm hand to keep me exactly where he wants me.
