Playing with Fire Page 6

  Damon said nothing.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Damon said nothing.

  I wanted to add something, anything, but there seemed little point. Damon kept his attention on his window, not once looking in my direction. I got the message. No talking. I imagined that once we got to his place, there’d be more than enough talking going on, and recalling that first time in his basement, most of it would be dirty. If part one of Damon’s plan had backfired, he’d make sure part two was a damn sight more successful.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Eventually we pulled up outside his house and by then my dick was like fucking steel. I was glad I’d worn my shirt out because that sucker was trying to peep over the waistband of my pants. Damon paid the driver and walked up to his front door, not saying a word. I followed, because hell, this was what he’d said, right? His place, his bed? I was tingling all over, aching to get fucked and anxious to know exactly how he was going to go about that task.

  Once inside the house he switched on a couple of lights and went into the kitchen where he grabbed bottles of water from the refrigerator. I wasn’t interested in taking a look at his place: my focus was on the two of us getting naked and me getting my ass reamed. Still nothing from him, and by then the tiniest bit of disquiet was creeping into my mind.

  Is this part of it? Is Damon still fucking with my head?

  Because, damn, he was good at it.

  Along the hallway, through a door and there we were. Damon’s bedroom. Not someplace I’d thought I’d see real soon: my interests lay in what he kept in his basement. And to tell the truth, I was kinda intrigued: what did the bedroom of a sexologist look like? As he’d led me to it, my mind was already conjuring up images of what was about to happen. I envisaged handcuffs around the bedposts, leather straps at each corner, ending in restraints, a nightstand full of sex toys, maybe hooks in the ceiling…

  I wasn’t prepared for the reality.

  There was a bed. A very ordinary wide bed, covered in a simple blue comforter and piles of pillows. An ottoman at the foot of it, with a padded lid. A nightstand on either side of it. Two doors, both ajar, revealing his closet and his bathroom. Dark blue blinds at the windows. A tall, freestanding mirror against the wall, facing the foot of the bed. A chair next to it. And not a single sex toy or fiendish device in sight.

  Okay. Okay. Now what?

  Damon stopped beside the bed, facing me and…

  Kissed me.

  That kiss bore no resemblance to the brutal, all-teeth-and-tongues variety he’d dished up in the alley. No, this kiss was gentle, a brushing of lips while he caressed my cheek, his hand stroking down my arm. His tongue in my mouth, licking me, tasting me, his hand on the back of my head, holding me still while he explored me.

  I froze, unsure of what he wanted from me, of where he was going with this.

  Damon paused and freed my lips. Those dark eyes focused on mine. “Pete? Quit thinking so loud and kiss me.”

  Okay. I could kiss him.

  Our lips met once more, only this time I brought my hand to the back of his head to rub over his coarse hair, cut so short it was no more than stubble. I liked that, the roughness beneath my fingertips compared to the silken touch of his lips against mine. He gave a soft noise of encouragement and I broke the kiss to move to his neck where his scent was strong, a heady, musky, male aroma. I breathed him in while I kissed the skin below his ear.

  “That feels good,” he said quietly.

  I was so fucking lost.

  I kept waiting for the pace to change, for Damon to change from this sensual, sexy fucker into the bear who’d fucked me in his basement. This was nothing like the Damon I knew.

  What if this is the real Damon? It really messed with my head.

  But still, I had to admit, what he was doing felt really… good.

  When he gently pushed me off, my heartbeat sped up. Okay. Okay. This is it.

  “Go stand at the foot of the bed and take off your jacket.”

  I did as instructed, Damon beside me while he removed his own. He took mine and placed them both over the chair. “Stand in front of the mirror.”

  I stared at my reflection, the flush on my chest beneath the shirt, my bright eyes, the line of my dick visible, my chinos pulled taut over my erection. Damon moved to stand behind me, heat radiating from him. He reached around under my arms and slowly began to unbutton my shirt, his gaze focused on the mirror. I found myself watching his progress as he moved lower, until he got to the waistband of my chinos. I bit my lip as he rubbed over my crotch, his fingers tracing the line of my cock.

  When he popped open the button and slid the zipper down, my heart pounded, and my dick twitched in anticipation.

  Damon pushed my chinos past my hips so that they fell to the floor, but he made no move to take them off. Instead, he languidly rubbed his hand over my crotch, where my dick was already making a wet spot on my briefs. When he resumed unbuttoning my shirt, ignoring my aching shaft, I want to growl, to tell him to get his goddamn hand back where I wanted it. My frustration was short-lived when he pulled open the flaps of my shirt and rubbed my cock through my briefs, until it pushed obscenely at the fabric.

  Damon removed my shirt and placed it on the chair with the jackets.

  I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. I wanted more, but I knew better. This was Damon’s show, Damon’s payback for me fucking him.

  The bastard was trying to drive me crazy.

  He had one hand on my belly, rubbing it, while the other stroked up and down my shaft, the movement leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. When he moved higher to tweak my nipple, I pushed out a low groan. Damon chuckled and slid his hand inside my briefs to wrap his fingers around my cock.

  Fuck, that felt amazing, his hands on me, arousing me while I watched him do it, saw my flushed face, my parted lips, the glazed expression in my eyes. Damon kissed my shoulder and pulled his hand free of my briefs.

  No, I wanted to yell. Don’t stop.

  “Eyes on the mirror,” he said, his voice quiet. “Watch.”

  I held my breath as he knelt behind me, grasped the waistband of my briefs and slowly, so slowly, lowered them over my erect dick that sprang up, slapping against my belly with a dull thud. He paused, my briefs around my knees, and I gasped when he kissed my ass, biting gently, before…

  “What do we have here?” He sounded amused. I gasped again when he pulled gently on the butt plug.

  “Well, what did you expect?” I retorted. “I was meeting you! I had to be prepared for any eventuality, right?”

  Laughing, Damon pulled the plug slowly from my hole. “I always appreciate initiative.” He spread me with both hands and pushed his face into my crack, rubbing his nose and beard over my hole before briefly licking it. I trembled, my legs shaking from the effort of holding myself upright while he pushed his tongue inside me. But all too soon, he’d finished, and I wanted to groan with frustration.

  Damon rose to his feet and stood in front of me. By now my briefs and chinos were around my ankles and I couldn’t move. Damon proceeded to stroke my shaft and balls, pausing to rub his thumb over the slit and draw out the pre-cum like a thread of shining silk.

  I knew there would be a lot more of that before we were done. Then all such thoughts fled when he bent lower to take my cock in his mouth.

  “Oh fuck.”

  Damon chuckled around my dick and knelt in front of me, one hand cupping my balls while he sucked the head of my cock, now and again sliding those full lips down the shaft but never taking it deep enough to satisfy me. His other hand was on my ass, squeezing it, holding me steady while he went down on me. I thrust gently into that glorious mouth, but he just moved his head back, controlling the depth.

  When he stopped, I wanted to curse his teasing black soul.

  Damon began to unbutton his own shirt. “Shoes off. Step out of your briefs and pants,” he ordered, “and place them on the chair.”

  I toed off my shoes and hurriedly shucked off my pants and underwear. I scooped them up off the floor, shaking them out and putting them on the chair. When I turned back to Damon, I caught my breath at the sight of that barrel chest, covered in a silky mat of hair, his nipples erect. It never failed: one look at that solid, furry chest and torso was enough to have more pre-cum leaking from my slit.

  Damon removed his belt and unfastened his pants. When he dropped them to reveal a pair of black boxers, his erection very obvious, I swear, I started drooling. Damon grinned as he pushed them off, his dick thick and hard, curving upward. He removed his shoes and stepped out of his clothes while I stood there, wearing only a pair of white ankle socks.

  Damon straightened and slipped his hands around me to cup my asscheeks, squeezing them while he slowly ground his cock against mine. I groaned as his mouth took mine again, tongue pushing deep while his fingers caressed my ass, edging closer to my crack.

  Fuck, yeah. Touch my hole.

  Only, he didn’t.

  Damon lifted me, surprising me with his strength, and gently lowered me onto the bed. “Scoot up the bed, your head on the pillows.”

  I moved swiftly, legs falling apart, my gaze fixed on him. He pulled off my socks and then, thank fuck, there he was between my legs, kissing me, his body a warm, solid weight on mine. I arched as he shifted lower to tease my nipples with his teeth, hands stroking my chest, his cock sliding over mine, hot, silken skin covering a rod of rigid flesh.

  I went to touch him, to stroke his back, but he grasped my wrists and placed my hands above my head. His eyes met mine briefly, and the message was clear enough: Keep them there. Then he stroked my biceps, moving lower to rub my chest while he kissed a path down to my dick.

  Fuck. Oh fuck, yes.

  Damon paused, his lips inches from the head of my cock, already wet with pre-cum. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I held my breath, willing him to just fucking do it, to take me so deep that I would feel his throat tight around me, his nose buried in my pubes.

  What he did was to lap up the pre-cum, before tracing a line down my shaft, taking his time, his gaze fixed on my face. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, mesmerized by the sight of that agile tongue as he licked up and down my length, flicking the ridge under the head before teasing that sweet spot under it, until I was writhing, pushing my cock against his lips, wanting more.

  When his hot mouth encased my dick, I pushed my head back into the pillows and sighed with pleasure. I pushed up with my hips, the only thought in my head to fuck his mouth.

  Damon had other plans. He pulled free of my cock and crawled up my body to kiss me, wrapping a large hand around both our lengths. I moaned into his kiss, rocking against him, my pre-cum making everything slick. When both of us were moaning softly, he grabbed onto me and rolled us until I was on top, my leg astride him.

  Then the kissing started again, only this time we rocked against each other, Damon reaching between our bodies to rub our cocks together. I forgot about payback, mindfucking, everything except for the way he was making me feel. I shifted my weight onto my arms and propped myself up while he kissed my chest and neck, his fingers sliding into my crease. When I bowed my head to meet his gaze, Damon’s eyes locked on me and fuck, the look in them was so hot, my heart quaked. His hands didn’t stop touching me, caressing me, and I couldn’t stop kissing him. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and tugged, while he cupped my ass and rocked me against his body.

  When he reached around to spread my ass, a single finger tapping against my hole, I arched my back and shifted higher up his body to give him greater access.

  “You want my cock in there, don’t you?” he murmured against my chest.

  I groaned aloud. “Like you have to ask.” My body ached to feel him inside me.

  Damon chuckled. “Good to know we both want the same thing.” He flicked his head toward the nightstand. “Top drawer. Lube and condoms.”

  I knelt up, leaned across and yanked it open, feeling with my fingertips. When I met the smooth surface of the bottle and the foil packets, I grinned. “Bingo.” I grabbed them and dropped them onto the bed beside us.

  Damon picked up a condom and tore open the packet. “Gonna do this now,” he said as he unrolled the latex down his heavy, wide shaft. “Don’t want to delay us when I’m ready to fuck you.” When that was done, he snapped open the bottle and slicked up his fingers. He finished lubing up his cock and met my gaze. “I want to watch you fuck yourself with your fingers.” His gaze locked on mine. “Kiss me while you do it.”

  Fuck. Heat flooded my body at the thought of his hard dick inside me, and my hole clenched tight. I straddled him, and then his mouth was on mine, neither of us quiet this time. The room was filled with the sound of our breathing, harsh and loud, as we kissed and rocked, kissed and rocked, my desire and need spiraling ever higher. I reached back to press two fingers into my hole, pushing back onto it as soon as it felt comfortable. Damon stroked my chest and the back of my head, his tongue battling with mine, his own noises of desire increasing in volume. By the time I was sliding my fingers easily, both of us emitted soft gasps and low cries, both plainly eager for what was coming.

  I pulled free of my body to grasp his slippery dick, and shifted until the head of his cock pressed against my hole.

  “Do it,” Damon urged, his breathing heavy.

  I sat back, slowly lowering my body onto his shaft, until he was all the way inside me. My dick jerked up toward my belly and Damon collected pre-cum on his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste me. I held myself still, while Damon stroked my thighs, my hips, my belly, before tilting his hips and pulling me down into a kiss. Little hums of satisfaction emanated from both of us when he began to push into me, hips rocking, our lips fused into kiss after kiss. His hands were on my ass, spreading my cheeks while he slid into my hole. I groaned into his mouth and grabbed the headboard to steady myself as he filled my channel, his wide cock stretching me.

  Fuck, I’d missed this. There had been no one inside me since our last fuck. The last three weeks had comprised of me fucking myself with a dildo, the memory of our hot coupling playing over and over in my head on a loop.

  The real thing was infinitely better.

  Damon grabbed onto me and flipped us so that I ended up on my back.

  “Wait,” I called out breathlessly, and before he could thrust into me, I lifted my legs to rest on his shoulders and began to roll my hips up off the bed, fucking myself on his dick. Damon groaned and propped himself up on his hands, letting me control it. I pushed up with my hips, my movements gaining in momentum…

  Until he stopped me with a kiss, his tongue going deep.

  I could not get enough of Damon’s mouth on mine.

  Slowly, deliberately, Damon rotated his hips, his face hovering above mine, our eyes focused on each other. I shifted my legs to wrap them around him, and he stretched out on top of me, still continuing with that slow press of his cock into my hole, that leisurely circling of his hips that had nerve endings firing up all over my body. He buried his face in my neck and kissed me there, before kneeling up to stroke my dick. I placed my foot against his chest and rubbed over his nipple with my toes, making him moan softly. When he eased his cock out of me, I groaned.

  Gently, Damon rolled me onto my belly, before lifting my hips until I was on all fours, knees tucked under me.

  “Okay, now fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructed, his voice husky.

  I pushed back, loving the way our soft moans mingled to produce one erotic soundtrack. I rocked onto that thick dick, moving faster, until he slowed me with both hands flat to my ass. Then he used his body to push me onto the mattress, my cock trapped against it. His hands covered mine as he continued to rock into me, hips rolling fluidly while he kissed the back of my neck, my shoulders, between my shoulder blades, his knees pushing mine wider. When he lifted my chin to kiss my mouth, I pushed a low moan between his lips.

  This was beyond anything I had ever experienced. Damon was playing me like an instrument, and fuck, my whole body was singing for him. I didn’t want it to come to an end. That slow circling of his hips, stirring his cock inside me, was driving me out of my mind. When he paused to pull out of me and place a line of soft, languid kisses up my spine, I wanted to cry out, to tell him to finish me because it was too good, too sensual…

  I was lost for adjectives.

  Then he was rolling me onto my back, pushing my knees toward my chest, his own chest heaving. His gaze traveled up my body to my face, and when our eyes met, I shivered, not knowing why I did it.

  Damon grabbed hold of my ankles and sank his dick deep inside me, pushing the air from my lungs. He fucked me with long strokes until I was breathless with need.

  “Please… Damon, please.”

  Fuck. His pupils were blown, his eyes almost black.

  My legs rested once more on his shoulders, his face inches from mine, his breath hot on my lips. “Touch yourself,” he growled.

  I grabbed my dick and tugged, my balls tight against my body. I was so close, my climax imminent. Damon kept his thrusts short, his gaze locked on mine.

  He wants me to cum first.

  I tugged harder, my cock slick with lube and pre-cum, my breathing growing more erratic as I neared orgasm. When I shot hard, cum exploding from my dick to hit my chin and chest. Damon groaned loudly. “Fuck, yeah. Fucking beautiful.” He stilled inside me while I shuddered, body jolted by mini shocks, overwhelmed by an orgasm that had taken my breath away.

  When I’d eased down from my high, Damon began to fuck me with long, deep strokes, so forceful that soon my head was banging against the headboard with each thrust, his hips jerking as he buried his cock deep inside me. He picked up speed, fucking me until I was crying out with every thrust, desperate to feel his dick throb in me.

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