Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(72)

“No…” She shook her head, palms resting on his shoulders. “I mean, yes. I still want this. I just…”

“Just what?”

And she was back to nibbling that sexy lower lip. He resisted the urge to free it and instead, put all his attention on her.

“You can tell me.” Damian tried putting her mind at ease.

“Taking what I want—like this—isn’t something I’m used to doing.” Pink rose high on her cheeks as she finally confided in him.

He absorbed her words, rolled them around in his head, and cursed her bastard exes. All of them. “Those asshats don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

Hell, neither did he, but he’d do his damned best to at least try.

Slipping his fingers into her hair, he slowly guided her mouth to his for a feather-soft kiss before gently nibbling her lower lip. “Consider this a turning point. What do you want, Rose? Tell me. If it’s within my power to make happen, I’ll do it.”

She glanced at his still straining cock, already beaded with pre-cum, and admitted softly, “I want you inside me.”

“Then take me.” Damian dropped his hands to her waist and supported her as she braced her hands on his chest, tentatively lifting her hips.

She rocked on top of him, experimentally sliding her wetness over his aching cock. It was a delicious torture as he lay back and let her set the pace, and as if finally realizing he meant his word, her body moved faster. Her breasts danced in front of him as she moved up and down, and he leaned up, capturing one in his mouth.

Above him, Rose sighed, holding his head to her as he feasted. First her left breast, then her right. With each suck, his cock throbbed, aching to be inside her. And then with another roll of her hips, he was, Rose taking his entire length in one slow drop of her body.

They groaned in unison as her tightness sheathed him like a snug glove. Damian dropped back to the mattress, and running his hands over every inch of skin that he could, he let her set the rhythm and pace.

“Damian.” Her lusty gaze met his as she leaned forward, her fingers digging into his chest for extra support as she rode him.

They were both breathless and sweaty in seconds, the only sound in the room the rise and fall of their bodies.

His hands slid around to her ass, and as she dropped her hips, he lifted his, deepening each and every thrust. “That’s it, little witch. Take it. Take what you need.”

“Oh Goddess…” Rose panted, her body quaking above him.

The first signs of release swelled heavy between his legs. He wouldn’t last much longer. Not at this pace, and definitely not with her gorgeous eyes staring at him as if looking straight into his soul.

“Touch me,” she begged as if reading his mind. “Touch me. Now.”

“Like this?” He slid a hand between them and rubbed her clit in a slow, soft circle. The touch elicited a soft gasp and a plea for more, and that’s exactly what he gave her.

That was all it took for either of them. Her body tightened around his in an epic release that primed his own and they came together, their bodies losing their synchronous movements as they strived to make it last as long as possible.

They kissed and touched, their lips swollen from the tenacity of their embrace, until the very last wave of pleasure ebbed slowly away.

Rose dropped next to him on the mattress, a satisfied smile plastered on her face. “Holy hexes in a hailstorm…”

Damian chuckled. “Now who’s wearing the smug grin?”

“Not even sorry.”

Neither was he, and the sight of her breathless smile only made him that much more determined to keep it in place as long as possible, and by whatever means necessary.

And that spelled trouble.

For both of them.





18





Panty-Chic


Rose’s body ached in all the right ways, for all the right reasons, and she was pretty certain the smirk on her face was permanent despite not yet having had her morning caffeine jolt. If this was post-sex bliss, she could definitely get used to it.

It wasn’t just the pleasure—although that had been top-tier epic.

It was everything else that came with it—before, during, and after. Damian made certain she was with him every step of the way, even coaxing her to take the lead. Before him, not one sexual partner had made her pleasure and comfort a top priority. And yes, that spoke volumes about her taste in men.

But it also said heaps about Damian. Despite calling himself a bad influence, the man wasn’t nearly as bad as he believed himself to be and something about that was more than a little sad.

Expelling a small sigh, she’d brought her first mug of coffee toward her lips when two thickly corded arms slipped around her waist.

“You made coffee?” Damian’s naked chest warmed her back as he pulled her close, his mouth brushing the back of her neck. “You shouldn’t have…”

He reached for the mug in her hand, which was appropriately etched with WITCH’S BREW.

She pulled it away with a snort. “I didn’t. Touch a witch’s morning coffee and sparks will fly … probably literally.”

“Good to know.” Chuckling, he alternated between kissing and nipping the curve of her neck. “Maybe we can create sparks for some other reason.”