Shea Butter Baby// D.S

18

Chapter 18: Wrapped Around My Finger

        Being back in Mystic Falls felt weird, the soothing cool bubble once covering his skin was absent, disappearing the duo drove back through the portal. "Is it bad to say I liked it better there?"

        "No," She responds, shoulders bobbing to whatever catchy song was playing on the radio, her feet moving from side to side as they too caught the rhythm. "It can be very peaceful in the astral. That is until you start meeting people and asking them too many questions or saying things that don't match that dimension."

        "Hmm," Deep in his pocket was the vial, tightly corked as his paranoia ensured he didn't accidentally use it on himself. "Will you take me there again?"

Nala reached over, hand resting on his thigh more so for comfort than to seduce. "I'm sure we could work something out but," She hesitates, eye contact wavering as she settled for watching the trees swish by like green blurs. "—doing that together is kind of intimate and isn't to be taken very lightly."

"Is that why I'm so horny right now?"

Damon grabbed her hands, dragging them from his thigh and planting it firmly on the crotch of his pants. Deftly unzipping the zipper and pulling his erection out, he wrapped her hand around it, head leaning back into the seat. "You're not going to crash, right?"

"I've got this."

He didn't have this. He'd only expected her to jerk him off a little, not unbuckle her seatbelt and bend over the center console. Her ass was tooted up in the air, back arched and she held her weight up on his leg.

If Damon hadn't already been dead, he surely would've died then because she gave him a sinister smile before spitting on his cock, mouth quickly chasing it in its suction of warmth. His stomach curled, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as she worked him slowly, tongue swirling around like she was licking a lollipop.

Her mouth was wet, so fucking wet that if she hadn't cupped her hand around the base of his dick, the steady stream of spit would've surely pooled uncomfortably in his jeans. "Fuck," He grunts out, sunglasses aggressively being torn off and thrown into the backseat. Anything to distract him from closing his eyes and falling into the complete and utter pleasure he was receiving. "That's so good."

Nala hums in response, the vibrations making Damon's knee jerk a little in turn causing her arm to shoot up and press the horn.

It still didn't stop her, she simply adjusted and got back to work. A spit slicked hand sealed the deal, wrapping around his balls like she owned them—in fact she did own them. She'd performed countless spells at Damon's expense, snagging strands of his hair and using them in elaborate spells that required quite a lot of masturbation on a full moon—not the worst time if she was honest. Maybe that's why she was so damn content giving him head, mouth watering at the thought of having her lips wrapped around his length. The spicy scent of his cologne filled her nose, his entire body encased in the intoxicating scent. He was twitching on her tongue, hand wrapped tightly in her hair as he carefully pushed her down further.

Usually she hated that but for him, for him she'd do anything. Nala gagged when he got too far, clutching her thumb tight within her fist to ward off the reflex—she wanted him to want her like this. So when she heard the guttural moan rip through his chest, fingers gripping tightly on her curls. He was struggling to stay steady on the road, grateful for the red light.

His foot barely kept the proper pressure on the break when she suddenly sucked him down harder, tongue loitering crippling laps around his tip, his warm cum shooting down her throat seconds later.

She worked him through his nut and tucked him back after, zipping his jeans and planting a fat kiss on his cheek before beginning to ramble on some facts she had thought of to tell him about the astral world.

Damon glanced over at her in bewilderment, toes still unfurling after the intensity of his release. He'd had sex for well over a hundred years and there was no comparable partner to the woman beside him.

One thought rolled into another and soon Damon hadn't even realized that Nala was still talking, let alone asking him questions when he abruptly interrupted. "Are you sleeping with anyone else?"

Nala frowned, brows furrowing in confusion. "No, what kind of question is that?"

"Because," He reached over to hold her hand. "—I'm pretty sure I would kill anyone who touched you that wasn't me."

"That's aggressive."

Damon hums, a sick smile steadily stretching over his angular features. "I'm just keeping you safe."

Nala pauses for a beat, mind immediately darting to her spell, fearing that maybe she'd overdone it a little. Sure, she'd wanted him to only ever want her romantically and sexually but maybe one of the side affects had been some aggressively possessive and possibly murderous tendencies. She shrugged it off, she'd keep an eye on it. "I like that."

Manipulation, a noun; the action of exploiting something or someone in a skillful manner.

         Nala knew exactly what she was doing and she was well aware that she should've felt some sort of guilt or remorse, but neither of those feelings were present. All she felt was proud, happy that her spell had worked just as she'd planned. Damon was obsessed with her and he'd would stay that way as long as she pleased.

         She didn't see herself letting him go anytime soon.

         "Where are we going now?"

         "My house, to finish what you started."