“Yes, now,” he agreed as he stepped forward, pushing her body over the back of the couch so her lush behind was sticking up in the air for him. With his knees, he spread her legs apart, exposing her hot pink core to him, enough to make him let it all go at just the sight.
He took a moment to fully appreciate the beauty before him, the milky white skin, with splotches of red where his mouth had tasted her, the incredible curves in every place that was meant to turn a man on. She was exquisite – and she was his.
With no more ability to wait, he guided his throbbing erection to her opening, watching as the head slid inside her, the angle of her body allowing him to see it disappear in her heat.
“Yes, more!” she demanded eagerly.
He gave her what she asked for.
With speed, he thrust all the way inside her opening, wrapping his arms fully around her, his fingers caressing her stomach, hips, br**sts, and neck as he thrust his hips forward, again and again.
He lost track of who’s moans were filling the air – his, hers – he didn’t know. He just knew the pleasure was unending, the feel of her gripping his rod was unbelievable. He could make love to her all night long.
When he felt her start to shake around him, his movement accelerated. He knew she was close, her body getting wetter, her walls tightening around him, making movement more difficult.
With a cry of pleasure, she started shaking, her heat gripping him repeatedly as he continued pumping inside her. He thrust faster, harder, drawing out her pleasure, her cries of ecstasy going on and on. When he finally shot his release, all energy left his body at the same time, leaving him completely drained, unable to stand.
He continued pumping inside her, her pulses drawing out every last ounce of his own pleasure, gripping him, squeezing him dry.
With a final thrust, he released the last of his orgasm, then slumped against her, pushing her body into the hard back of the couch.
It didn’t take long for her to squirm beneath him. Too tired to fight with her any further that night, he lifted her in his arms, and moved to the front of the couch. Relief flooded him, when she relinquished herself and allowed him to set her down.
He’d think about what he was doing later. Right then, he wanted to enjoy the extreme pleasure his body felt, and just relax, with Sierra laying right next to him. Both fell asleep, still buzzing from the incredibly intimate coupling.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sierra was trapped. She couldn’t move and panic filled her as she cringed. What was her father going to do now? She hadn’t done anything. She could handle the pain if she knew it was coming, but when it came out of the blue, she wasn’t prepared.
She began struggling, trying to get away. She knew it wouldn’t do any good, but she had to try. She couldn’t just give up and take the beating. She didn’t deserve it – she’d been good. She did everything he asked of her.
“Sierra, stop. Ouch! What the hell?”
The deep voice sent her panic over the edge as she kicked her trapped legs, moved her shoulders, struggled to free herself.
“Please, I haven’t done anything. Please, no more. It hurts. I can’t…” Sierra sobbed, knowing her punishment would be worse, but in her sleepy delirium she couldn’t stop herself. She just didn’t want to be hurt.
She sobbed as her body grew weaker. She couldn’t get away. He’d really hurt her now. She shouldn’t have struggled.
“Sierra, wake up, you have to wake up. It’s me – Damien.”
Sierra tried to open her eyes, tried to rise from the nightmare, but panic was still clogging her, still keeping her under its spell. She was still trapped.
“Please…” she begged in one final attempt.
“Sierra, it’s me,” the voice said. It didn’t fit, it was too gentle, too caring. That couldn’t be her father. Hazily, Sierra pulled herself from her half-sleeping state and cracked her eyes open.
Damien was warily watching her, the lamp beside his bed casting a glow across his face, showing the concern radiating from his eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she automatically replied with tightness in her voice.
“My groin begs to differ. You have one hell of a good knee,” he said with a slight grimace. It took Sierra a moment to figure out what he was saying, and then it dawned on her.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped.
He was leaning over her, supporting his weight on his elbow, the blanket ridding low on his hip. When she looked down and noticed her chest fully exposed to his view, she quickly reached for the blanket, trying to tug it from underneath their bodies.
Damien gave her br**sts a leisurely look before shifting and allowing her to pull the blanket clear up to her chin. She didn’t know how she’d ended up in his bed. The last thing she recalled was lying down on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a movie playing.
“I carried you upstairs. You fell asleep before the opening credits even started,” he said. It was unnerving how he always seemed to guess what she was thinking.
After they’d finished having sex, they’d fallen asleep on the couch, only for him to wake her a couple hours later with a second round, even better than the first. When she’d gotten up and tried to grab her clothes, Damien had scooped her into his arms, saying he liked her naked.
He’d then re-deposited her on the couch with a blanket, before going to the kitchen to make her hot cocoa. She’d been so comfortable she hadn’t put up too much protest.
“I need to get some water,” she told him, hoping he’d be a gentleman and turn away.
“I’ll get it for you,” he offered as he started to move.
“I need to use the bathroom, too,” she said, her face immediately turning red.
“Need me to carry you?”
“No!” She felt her face go from red to burgundy. He started laughing, then flipped over on his back. As she tugged one of the blankets the rest of the way loose, her eyes glanced down and she couldn’t help but notice the impressive tent his body was making of the sheet barely covering him.
Her eyes shot back to his face and his satisfied expression. How could he even think about sex after the extreme rounds they’d had not long ago.
“Don’t take too long,” he said with lazy indulgence.
She scooted from the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom, stopping at the sink and splashing cold water on her face to wash away the last of the terror still making her heart pound. She must have been tangled up between Damien and the blankets.