| 18+ | Damian looked so different with his shirt off and a crop in his hand. He felt more real: no longer wearing the mask of the good doctor, he was the Exorcist, the master over my wildest fears, the stones on the shore over which my ocean of ma...
A/N: Okay guys, yes, after 50 f-ing chapters there's a sex scene. But I had to make it good if I made ya' wait this long. If you don't wanna read the sexy times, skip down to the next paragraph break ;) ♡
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I wanted to consume all of him at once. I wanted to take his body and make it part of my own. And the moment he gave his acquiescence, there was nothing to stop me.
Finally being allowed to tear those clothes from his body was like taking a gasp for breath after only sucking air through a straw. I yanked at his shirt and the buttons popped, caressing my hands over the smattering of hair across his chest. I unhooked the top of his trousers, but he was too eager to let me finish. He had little patience for the ribbons in my corset. Pressing me down on the bed, he picked up a slim blade from his bedside table - a letter opener, I guessed - and made quick work of the ties that kept him from me. My whole body tingled just to see that savagery in him, just to feel the tension in his arms as he undressed me, struggling to maintain control. But still the fabric ripped and any hope of wearing that dress again was long gone. It was cast to the floor torn and cut, unwanted.
I explored him, every inch, traced the lines of his scars that had made of him a sacrifice as he did mine in return. I shuddered as his hands moved down my sides and gripped into my hips before going at my neck with the wickedness of a vampire. His bites were not hard enough to break the skin - but they were hard enough to mark me. I knew that by morning I would wear the red and purple bruises of his passion. I was determined to give him some in return. I raked my nails up his back, reveling in his gasp and hiss of pain. I arched myself up, wanting to touch all of him at once. I wasn't used to lying on my back, being the one on the bottom. I wrestled him, and he let me turn him, so that he lay on the bed and I sat astride him.
Now finally, I could ease down his trousers and feast my eyes on a member that made my mouth water. I had seen plenty of men whip out their boring phallic pieces over the past 10 months, but I'd had yet to see one I'd found truly tempting. Until now.
"You look hungry," he said softly. "Should I be frightened?"
I snapped my teeth, and gave a little grin. "Not if you hold very still. I'll try not to bite."
I started on him slowly, first just my lips, before I took all of him in my mouth. It was almost vengeful, a way to get back at him for controlling almost every aspect of my life. To watch him shudder and pant and struggle to stay as still as I'd told him - it made heat rush through me like a shot of whiskey. He reached down, gripped my hair and pushed toward my throat. I enjoyed watching his eyes widen as I easily took him in.
"Is that magic," he said softly, "Or practice?"
He released my hair and I came up for a breath. "Magic," I whispered, before I went down again and worked my tongue on him until I felt his muscles begin to shake.
He pulled me up suddenly, urgently. "Enough of that," he gripped me, turned me, pushed me down upon the bed. "You'll have me spent before I've even enjoyed you."
