“God, you’re beautiful when you come.”
He lowered us gently on to the soft mattress and covered me with his big, hard body. The big shaft between my thighs was twitching and jerking with anticipation. He took one of my legs and hooked it around him. In one slow glide, he impaled me with his cock, stretching me and going in so deep it seemed I could feel him in my throat as I bucked, spreading my legs to make room for him, taking all of him in that heavy, relentless slide punctuated with a thrust as he drove home, and I took him all the way to the hilt.
“All. Mine,” he said, his teeth gritted. He drew out and thrust back in, pumping and with every pounding thrust into my body he ground out the words, “All. Mine.”
His length was so hard and unforgiving, the girth almost more than I could stand. I arched and trembled, gripped his biceps and tipped my chin up. He dipped his head, sucked my neck as he thrust into my body that was so stretched, so tight. The lewd, wet sound of him pumping into me made me moan with pleasure. I was thrashing and saying his name, my nipples rubbing his chest as he moved rhythmically inside me. With one hand he reached down and scissored my clit between his fingers. “Yes, oh, Damon! Damon!” I cried as I tightened and pulsed around him wildly.
His thrusts grew frantic, less controlled, fast and hard until I felt his arms tense in my grip and he seemed to rear off the bed like some great beast and charge into me with a sound like a roar. I felt the liquid rush of his pulsing climax within me. With a shudder, he collapsed, tried to roll off of me as he did, but I grabbed his back and held him fast to my chest, relishing the weight of him, the sweat filming his hot skin as he gathered me against him, breathing hard.
“My God,” he said, rolling onto his back and taking me with him. I nestled into his chest, our legs still tangled together. He had both arms wrapped securely around me, and tucked his chin on top of my head. “That was incredible. We were incredible.”
“Yeah,” I said breathlessly, “I didn’t even know it could be like that, with you looking in my eyes and—” I broke off, feeling that I was embarrassing myself.
“You’re right. It’s never been like that before for me.”
After a few moments of catching our breath, I snuggle in close. “I was really scared, Damon. You could’ve been hurt or killed in that fire.”
“It’s the nature of the job. I knew that when I started training for it. I grew up with my dad doing this, and it’s normal for me. You tell him bye, say a prayer that he comes home safe, and let go of the anxiety. Because you can’t control it, any of it. The fact is, the risks of my job make it pretty hard to find a relationship though.”
“I can see why. It would be horrible to live like that, in constant fear that your partner wouldn’t come home, that your boyfriend or your husband would walk out the door and that would be the last time, that he’d just die trying to put out a fire, and maybe somebody he saved is walking around living their life and it cost him his own. I can’t imagine trying to survive that, not knowing if you were coming home every time you went to work.”
I was speaking from the heart, looking up at him, practically begging him to tell me some magic spell that would be a balm for my fear, some reassurance that he’d be fine and come home to me even though that was an impossible guarantee to make. His answer never came. He just broke eye contact and stared up at the ceiling, stroking my hair absently. Damon’s body was still there with me, but his mind was far away. I felt him slip away from me, withdrawing. There was my answer. There was no help for it. If I could even admit how I felt, that I wanted to be with him, it would be a life of uncertainty and fear.
What I had really wanted was for him to say he’d make it okay. Our life together would be worth the risk. Because we belonged together and he’d never felt this way before, that it was unique and perfect and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to be with me. That was a fantasy. No one said things like that. Just because I’d been worried and he’d been willing didn’t mean that what we had meant anything to him. In fact, it was likely that I was a one-night stand who happened to live in his house with him. He had all that adrenaline to burn off from the near-death rescue he made, and there I was, needy and tearful and eager. I had offered him my body, and he’d been happy to take me up on it. Nevertheless, that was physical. Maybe that’s all it would ever be.