Seraphine

forty four

Damien

Damien's hands grip Seraphine's tightly, not moving them, no matter how much he wants to caress her face or hold her hips. He'll wait for her--she's in charge. 

Seraphine's hands start quivering as she pulls his hands closer to her body. Sensing her hesitation, Damien pulls away from her heady lips. 

"Seraphine, don't push yourself if you can't. I don't ever want you to feel pressured in my presence," Damien softly demands, trying his hardest to keep himself from kissing her over and over again until he suffocates. 

Seraphine shakes her head and grips his hands tighter. 

"I can. I want to, I promise. I just..." Damien watches her, slightly panting, as she looks down at herself. "I feel so dirty," he finally hears her whisper, and he wants nothing more than to lift her up and lick her supple skin with his own tongue until she feels clean again. 

"What makes you feel dirty?" He asks, trying a different approach. Seraphine is quick to answer. 

"Him." She practically spits, and Damien nods. 

"And who am I, Seraphine?" She glances up, and he stares at her, waiting for her response. 

"...not him," she says quietly, and he nods once more. 

"I know it doesn't quite like that, darling, but little reminders here and there might help you. Reassurance that it's me when you close your eyes, and not him, could be a good start?" Damien offers, and Seraphine bites her bottom lip before she blinks long and hard. 

"It's you, not him." Her voice is stern, confident, and Damien grins. 

"It's me, darling. Never him." He reassures her, watching as her eyelids flutter at darling. 

"Darling, darling, my darling," Damien seizes the opportunity to guide her back into her heady state, and Seraphine takes his words eagerly, her lips parting to whisper his name in response before leaning forward and capturing his lips with hers. 

His heart stops, but thank God his lips move on their own accord, meeting her passionately. 

Seraphine's movements are more confident, less shaky, and Damien follows her lead as she takes one of his hands and wraps his fingers around her slim waist. Once her hand leaves his, his thumb slides up underneath her shirt and brushes against her soft skin, finding it warm. Seraphine jumps at his action, and he smirks into the kiss. 

Damien feels her uncertainty rising to the surface again so he forces himself to detach from her lips and move down, pressing small kisses to the curve of her neck as his hand resumes the position she put it in--over her shirt. 

"It's me, Seraphine. It's just me," he murmurs against her neck, and she nods. 

"It's just you," she repeats back to him, and his heart swells. She tilts her neck to reveal more of it to Damien, who greedily takes what's given to him, licking up her pulse and sucking below her ear until she's moaning and shivering against him. 

"Damien," she breathes, and the way she says his name makes his blood ignite. His dick twitches, already harder than it ever had been before, and he longs for some kind of release but knows tonight isn't about him. It's about her. 

"Lay down for me, darling." He instructs her, and Seraphine does what she's told. Damien follows her, positioning his body next to hers, and leans down to reconnect their lips. 

His hand on her waist squeezes her skin, and when she gasps, Damien slips his tongue into her mouth. Seraphine moans as he does, a soft, lewd sigh, and Damien groans in response.