Page 14 of The Landlord
I can't form coherent responses anymore, just broken moans as he hits the perfect spot inside me. When his fingers find my clit, circling it in time with our thrusts, I feel myself rapidly approaching the edge. A sense of desperation builds within me, pleasure collecting and coiling in tight spirals.
My movements grow erratic. "I-I'm close."
"Come for me, Alyssa," he says, pressing harder on my clit. "Let me feel you."
The orgasm crashes over me, more intense than last time, making me cry out his name as I clench around him. Blinding sparks light the darkness behind my eyes, and I cling to him in shuddering spasms that leave me weak-limbed. He follows a moment later, his face buried against my neck, his arms holding me tight against him.
We stay like that for several minutes, catching our breath, my forehead resting against his. Eventually, we start laughing again.
"Next time," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "we're doing this in bed. Where I can spread you out properly."
The promise of "next time" makes me smile. "I like the sound of that."
We clean up as best we can and rearrange our clothing before stepping out of the car. The cool air feels good on my flushed skin as Damien takes my hand, leading me toward the exit.
Just before we reach the door, movement catches my eye—a shadow ducking behind a pillar at the edge of the garage. I pause, squinting into the darkness.
"What is it?" Damien asks.
I stare for another moment, but see nothing. "Nothing, I think. Just a trick of the light."
As we walk inside, his arm around my waist, I can't shake the uneasy feeling that someone was watching us. But I push it aside, focusing instead on the warm weight of Damien's arm and the promise of what's to come.
5
DAMIEN
Two weeks since Doug destroyed that box, and I can't stop smirking every time I think about it. Who would've thought that a silicone dick would be the thing to finally break the ice between us?
Alyssa sleeps deeply beside me, one leg thrown over mine, her breathing steady and peaceful. I trace my finger along her bare shoulder, wondering how the hell I got so lucky.
For too long, I watched her from across the hall. Now she's in my bed nearly every night, and I'm learning all the little things that make her who she is.
Alyssa stirs beside me, stretching like a cat before her eyes flutter open.
"Morning," she says, voice raspy with sleep.
"Morning." I brush a curl from her face, struck again by how beautiful she is first thing in the morning. No makeup, hair a mess, pillow lines on her cheek and I've never wanted anyone more.
She rolls toward me, pressing a kiss to my chest. "What time is it?"
"Early. A little after six."
She groans dramatically. "Why are you even awake? It's Saturday."
"Some of us have actual work to do," I tease, earning a light smack on my arm.
"Excuse you, I have three custom orders to finish this weekend." She props herself up on an elbow, already looking more alert. "Including that baby blanket for the woman in California who's paying triple my usual rate for rush delivery."
I raise an eyebrow. "Triple?"
"Yep." Her smile turns smug. "People will pay a lot for handmade items, especially when they're gifts for special occasions."
I pull her closer, enjoying her warmth against me. "Still can't believe people pay that much for blankets."
"Says the man who charges $4,000 for a custom dining table."
"That's different. That's?—"
