Page 52 of Burn for You (Flirting with Forever 3)

Damon drives into me in one powerful stroke. There are no pretenses.

And it’s everything I’ve always wanted. He’s taking me. Fucking me. Claiming me.

And he’s driving me out of my mind with every thrust of his cock. He’s so deep inside of me, I don’t know how I’m handling it, but all I want is more, so I meet him stroke for stroke, needing to feel his possession. With every kiss, every touch, he’s making me his. Oh God, I’m his.

Ripples of pleasure roll through me as an orgasm hits out of nowhere. My head falls back and my lips part on a satisfied moan. He stills, content to drop open-mouthed kisses along my neck as I lie beneath him, enjoying the heady sensation of his weight on top of me and his cock inside me.

Damn, that was good.

It takes me a few seconds to gather my wits. When I do, Damon pulls out of me, kneeling. I’m momentarily stunned, but then his lips coast down over my body, nipping and kissing everywhere he goes. My breath catches in my throat as I realize where he’s heading. I must be having one of those out-of-body moments because I would never in a million years have dreamed I’d say the words that tumble from my mouth. “Damon, I want you to taste me.”

He growls, “I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole fucking life,” right before his mouth begins to feast on my sex. He’s everywhere at once, hands holding my thighs wide, lips nibbling at sensitive skin, tongue finding my clit. My back bows off the floor, heat flooding my face at the sight of Damon fucking me with his tongue.

Tears trickle out the corners of my eyes as my body comes absolutely undone by this man and the way he’s making me feel. My legs start to twitch and shake as an elusive orgasm looms on the horizon. His hand coasts from my thigh to my clit, his thumb rubbing and applying pressure.

“Oh, fuck.” Wave after wave crashes over me, my hips gyrating out of my control. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” I pant as the rush of sensations continue to course through my body.

I’ve barely come down when Damon enters me again, seating himself to the hilt inside of me. My inner muscles twitch around him, still feeling the aftereffects of my orgasms.

My orgasms. I. Had. Multiple. Orgasms. That’s never happened to me before.

His lips are all over my neck, his tongue licking along it as his hot breath teases my skin, and he groans, low and long, in the back of his throat. If I’d had any doubts at all whether he was into this, I don’t any longer. He continues to pump, his dick driving in and out of me at a maddening pace as he chases his own release. “Piper …” My name scrapes out of his throat as his body jerks above me, all the muscles in his body tense.

For a minute, we lie there on the floor, bodies entwined, and I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my core, pulsing around him.

He shifts back with a grunt, still inside me, his mouth traveling from my neck down to my nipple. He sucks hard, his tongue swirling over the tip, teasing it. “I can’t get enough.”

My poor brain doesn’t know how to think anymore, doesn’t know how to react to any of this. I can’t speak. All my words are caught up somewhere in my chest.

He glances up at me and frowns. One tentative hand reaches for my face, his thumb sliding over the moisture that had run from the corners of my eyes, down the sides of my face, and into my hair. “Are you crying?”

I shake my head staring at him. My chest is so tight I can hardly take a breath.

“Don’t lie to me, Piper.”

A tiny sob bursts forth, and my eyes widen in horror. “I’m sorry,” I gasp.

He pulls out of me and is on his feet in a flash, stooping down to pick me up. “Where’s your shower?”

“What?”

“Your shower. We’re going to clean up, then we’re going to talk about this.”

I point over his shoulder. “Back that way.”

I don’t even know why I’m crying. From the orgasms I rarely have? Or because we had sex on my living room floor before we could even talk?

Or maybe it’s because I feel so much for him, I can’t even express myself with words.

Chapter 30

Damon

I set Piper down on unsteady feet just outside the shower stall. With a flick of my hand, I turn on the water and wait for it to warm. When I turn back to her, she looks at the floor, at the wall, over my shoulder, anywhere but at me. “Hey. Where are you right now?” My fingers find her chin and tilt her face up to mine.

She shakes her head, unable to speak yet, and her teeth rake over her lower lip. She reaches out to touch my chest, and her fingertips slide over grooves of muscle on my stomach. Tilting her head to the side, she looks down at where her fingers touch the skin of my rib cage. Finally, she finds words, but they aren’t what I’m expecting.

“What’s the significance of your tattoo?”

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