I bit my lip and then pressed my lips over his and sucked his tongue into my mouth. We made out for a while, all hands and mouths and horny teenage groping. Then the way he kissed me turned dirtier, his hands framing my face, his lips sucking at mine, and his tongue touching the corner of my mouth and retreating, baiting me onward. He rolled me on my back, covered me completely with his body, pressed me into the mattress. He kissed my freckles, my cheek and chin, my neck. I was trembling with just the pleasure of his kisses, his soft caress and the weight of his body pressing me deeper into the plush mattress. His hand slid beneath my oversized t-shirt and his fingers slipped over and around my nipples, teasing in closer and then making me bite my lip and groan when his touch skated away from where I wanted his fingers. Then he worked the shirt off of me and over my head, tossing it someplace. He dipped his head and worked my nipple with his lips and tongue until I cursed and begged and shoved my fingers into his hair. One of his hands stole along my side and down my hip. He hooked his fingers in my panties and, little by little, he drew them down my legs until I kicked them away. Then his hand stroked my stomach, sending little thrills up my body before he slipped his long fingers between my legs, sliding around in my wetness, feeling how swollen and tender I must be from arousal, how my sex-starved body was practically weeping for him.
Two fingers breached my channel, sliding in all the way to the last knuckle, curling, stroking me inside, hitting places that made me clench my inner muscles and say yes about six hundred times. I spread my legs wider, restless and wanting. He rewarded me by pressing his thumb right over my clit, not rubbing but applying subtle, increasing pressure until I felt like he was pushing an insanity button on my body. My legs were kicking out while he pumped long fingers inside of me, twisting them and pressing and then releasing my clit in a slow rhythm that built up in speed and pressure until I screamed, coming so hard that my contracting inner muscles pushed his fingers out, and I was crying his name. He looked at me, grinning. I pressed my fingertips to his lips and he sucked my fingers, his velvet tongue caressing them until I felt a flutter of pleasure in the aftermath of my orgasm. The guy was good. So fucking good.
I sprawled out on the bed, undone, my limbs loose and relaxed. He smiled a little smugly.
Then he scooted up behind me and pulled me back against his chest, cuddling me close. I felt him wrapped around me, so warm and safe, that I let my eyes drift shut. If it hadn’t been for the long, hard cock prodding against my butt I would have drifted off to sleep. Instead I laughed.
“I wore you out too much,” he said ruefully.
“Not that much,” I said slyly.
I rolled over to face him. He reached out and looped my leg over his hip. He pulled me flush against him, my oversensitive nipples brushing his hard, muscled chest. I tipped my face up and he kissed me deeply, giving me slow open-mouthed kisses until I felt molten and undone. I unzipped his jeans, felt his cock, big and hot in my hand. One hand in the small of my back, he tilted me closer, so our bodies aligned. I could feel the head of his cock hot and slick against my sex. I worked back and forth over his length. Rubbing my slippery folds over his hard rod, teasing him and myself equally. It wasn’t easy for him to let me take the lead, but his eyes said he was hypnotized by the rock of my hips, the wetness that awaited him. I wrapped a hand around his cock, shocked by how thick he was. I shoved his jeans down and let him kick them away. His skin was hot and velvety smooth, so soft, and I wanted all of it for myself.
Damon dragged me against him, his rigid length sliding against my folds as he aligned my body with his. He held me hard, pressing me down onto his pelvic bone and rocking. My eyes flew open wide and my mouth gaped. That pressure, relentless and tucked close, inescapably against my clit, was the sharpest, truest pleasure I had ever felt. I met his eyes, and he leaned his forehead to mine, “Trust me,” he said, and gripped my hips, rocking me up and down, keeping my throbbing clit in constant contact with the ridge that made jolts of icy champagne bubbles explode in my chest and shook me with a devastating orgasm, so fast, so fierce. I squealed with bright ecstasy, sounding like I was excited to find exactly what I wanted under the Christmas tree. He laughed.