Damon
We drove home in silence, letting the weight of her words settle in properly.
She was right.
We were no good for one another.
We couldn't be together.
But I wanted her, and even want was the understatement of the fucking century.
She didn't stop me from settling a hand on her thigh the entire ride back as she traced random shapes onto the back of my palm. She drew some stars, traced a tiara and other random figures I was too wired up to properly decipher.
Without asking her permission, as I did so often, I drove us home, headed up to my room, locked the door behind us. I didn't care what we were doing. I just knew I needed to be around her.
She stood quietly by the tall glass windows of my room in deep contemplation. Ariadne and I weren't all that different. We both liked silence, appreciated being unknown, and needed time to think.
I left her to her thoughts as I checked my phone.
Rich & Hungry
Christian: Everyone home?
Francis: Yes. Bella's with me.
Dean: Yes sir. Robyn too.
In my mind, I could practically see Christian rubbing a hand over his jaw at Dean's message. Idiot. I typed a quick response, knowing full well my best friend wouldn't sleep until he knew everyone was okay.
Damon: All good.
Immediately, a private text from Christian popped up.
Christian: Assuming my sister is with you?
Damon: She is.
Christian: Hurt her again and you die a slow painful death, Damon.
As much as I would normally make fun of his taunts, it seemed inappropriate now. Not to mention when it came to Ariadne, Christian would follow through on those threats without a second thought. Christian was supportive of Ariadne and me. And I had to respect that.
Damon: I won't. I promise.
Promises were important to him. He made them all the time with my sister for years. Hopefully, he knew I meant it too.
I unbuttoned the top of my dress shirt, inspected the gauze on my hand, and peeled away the bandages from my jaw, checking for fresh blood. Mostly a superficial wound—it would heal quickly. Looking back up at Ariadne, she stood with her legs crossed and her hands behind her back, still looking at the starry sky.
"Maybe we could work," she said suddenly but it sounded more like internal dialogue than a conversation starter, so I let her dwell.
She chuckled. "Ever since you started paying attention to me, it's been feelings and complications and all this stuff I don't understand."
She turned on her heels and faced me, a pensive look on her perfect face.
God, she really didn't know that I always paid attention to her. That she was the only one I ever fucking looked at.
"Talk to me, Damon."
I sighed. "I know how I feel about you, princess. For quite some time now. But for you, I'll wait. However long it takes."
She shook her head. "You're too good to me. You took care of me when I fell asleep, punched a guy for touching me, and even shipped a man across the country for me," she said softly.
I stilled, realizing Christian must have told her about her useless ex. Hayden was pretty high on my shit list for the way he treated Ariadne for years.
"Christian promised he wouldn't tell you," I said curtly.
"And you promised Christian that you wouldn't touch me," she smirked, tilting her head to one side. Slowly taking off her heels, she threw them in the corner of my room.
"I suppose that's true," I whispered before clearing my throat and changing the subject. "Do you want me to take you home?"
"No," she said, smiling wryly. "Are you trying to get rid of me? Think I can't handle you?"
"Of course not. If anyone can handle a mob boss, it's you," I said carefully.
"I'm not afraid of you, Damon."
"You should be. There's a lot of ugly things about me."
"Not to me," she said softly. "Nothing about you is ugly to me. And nothing about you scares me."
"Why not?"
"Well," she shrugged. "Apart from the fact that I've known you my entire life, I know you'll never hurt me."
I winced inwardly, knowing I had with my words and would regret that until the day I die. "Never," I answered solemnly, praying that she knew I meant every word.
"My brother, your sister, and pretty much everyone with a pulse tells me you've had feelings for me since when we were kids. Is that true?"
My hand found the back of my neck, rubbing vigorously as I searched for the words to explain how I felt without scaring her away with the word love.
"Talk, Damon. Please talk to me."
"It is. But it was complicated. I knew from a young age that I was expected to do things. Be things. Succeed my father. And you were my biggest weakness. I became helpless around you. You were the one thing in my life I couldn't control myself around. So, I tried to stay away from you. Always."
"I thought you hated me. Or that you just didn't care about me," she whispered, looking away. My stomach twisted, bile rising up my throat. Nothing could be further from the truth.
" I felt a lot of things for you, Ariadne. But hatred was not one of them. And I cared about you more than I could put into words."
Her heavy gaze found mine, a smile on her face as she processed. Then, something flicked through those browns, and she turned around again, gathering her hair all on one side, facing the glass.
"Unzip me?"
On command, I hardened at her request and took my time, walking the length of my room before standing directly behind her. With my body flush against hers, my fingers trailed her shoulders and tugged the zipper, pulling it all the way down. Turning around, she smiled innocuously and let her dress fall to the floor.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes back into my head with pleasure and stood perfectly still, shoving my hands in my pockets so they wouldn't grab her right then and there. I tried not to think about the extremely urgent erection fighting for a way out of my pants. Her hands played with my belt buckle, undoing it in one quick move and letting it fall to the floor with a clank.
Her lips brushed against mine as she unbuttoned my shirt, taking her time with each one. She nibbled at my jaw, moving her way down my chest until my shirt fell off behind me. Then, she took a step back.
I narrowed my eyes. What a fucking tease.
"I seem to have a problem, Doc," I deadpanned.
Her eyes lit up with mischief. "Is that right?"
Nodding slowly, I said, "I'm facing a severe urge."
"What kind of urge?"
"There's a beautiful woman standing in front of me, and she won't touch me. It makes me want to fuck her even more."
"Ah, well that seems to be quite a hard problem," she said, eyes dropping to my pants.
This role play shit wasn't for me, but I'd sing with the fucking canaries to sleep with her at this point.
"It is. And if I don't quell it, there's really no guarantee on how rough I'd fuck her in my bed."
Her eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.
"What can I do to help you?" She asked innocently.
Dark satisfaction ran through me, watching her offer herself up to me so willingly.
"Kneel," I ordered. She complied, dropping instantly and looking up at me with soft brown eyes that made me want to fucking die. I wrapped her long hair twice in my fist. "You look so beautiful on your knees, princess."
She raised a challenging eyebrow. "Did you want me to just kneel here? Or was there something else?"
Her eyes drifted down and then back up at me. A smile touched my lips.
"Why don't you show me what else that mouth is good for?"
A sinful look crossed her face. Keeping her eyes on me, she ran her tongue all the way from base to tip. The sheer heat of her tongue and its soft glide was maddening. She took her goddamn time, licking me as if it was her only passion in life. It wasn't long before I couldn't handle the torture for much longer.
"Let me fuck your mouth," I said as evenly as I could manage, and she grinned. Her hands closed over me, and her lips curled the way they held the cigar all those months ago. The quiet Ryder middle child held some dirty technique that had me growling profanity.
She was confident, taking in my reactions for everything and seeing what I liked and what I loved. Truthfully, I loved it all. I rested my hand on her head, trying hard not to close my eyes, devouring her as much as she was devouring me, but tried hard not to open my mouth.
The second I was vocal, all kinds of demands would start leaving my mouth and I didn't particularly want to tell Ariadne to gag on my dick.
She knew her way around like it was home. It was going to be.
"Say it, Damon," she whispered. "Don't hold back with me."
My gaze darkened. "I can't."
"Tell me how dirty I am," she purred. My jaw nearly dropped. "Just for you, only for you."
Well, fuck.
"Choke on my dick, you beautiful slut."
The way her eyes lit with glee, you'd think I just told her she won the goddamn lottery.
A low rumble moved through my chest as I held her face and slid in deeper. When she gagged and her throat constricted around my dick, it was pretty much over for me. I came in her mouth–the best goddamn blowjob of my life and unraveled my hands from her hair. She swallowed without as much as a shudder and I pulled her bottom lip down in approval.
She stood in front of me, hands behind her back yet again.
"You once told me that all I had to do to experience the Damon Hale was ask, do you remember?" She asked, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra.
I nodded, rubbing a hand over my mouth as she let it fall to the floor.
"Do whatever you want with me," she smiled, pushing the fabric around her hips all the way down her legs.
"You're going to regret that when you can't walk tomorrow, princess." I took a step closer.
"So many words and yet such little action. You want to talk or show me what you've got?"
"You've seen what I've got. And you seem to have liked it," I responded, edging closer.
"Seeing and feeling are two very different things, Damon. I want to feel you inside me." She tilted her head to the side innocently and I let out a desperate growl.
The sharp tongue I came to adore so much was back. And I was ravenous.
I slammed her against the floor to ceiling windows and she arched her back into me, kissing me frantically.
"Here's the thing..." I started, running my lips over her jaw and moving my fingers down her stomach. "That smart-ass mouth of yours... I like it a lot."
Moving my lips to her neck, her breath hitched when my fingers reached between her thighs and roughly pushed two into her. Wet.
"I've heard it speak, I've heard it sing, I've heard it chastise me constantly," I taunted. She moaned, throwing her head back and I dropped to my knees, ignoring her silent pleas. "Now, I'm going to make it beg."
My head sank between her legs, and she inhaled a sharp breath when I bit the inside of her thigh. I wanted to mark her, make her show the world proof that she was mine. Fucking mine.
"Careful now, you're an injured man," she said and looked down at the bandages on my wrist. I was almost insulted that she was making conversation right now as if me being three fingers knuckle deep into her wasn't doing anything but the sweat gliding down her stomach and sheer volume of her moans told me a very different story.
Besides, it was Ariadne. She wouldn't let me have anything easy.
"Good thing it's not my mouth."
Darting my tongue out, I explored, building undeniable anticipation from how soaked my fingers and tongue were becoming. She fisted my hair as I sucked on her clit, using my teeth to graze lower and slowing down whenever she was close. She knew I was teasing her and she tugged on my hair even harder, trying to force me into making her come.
"I wondered how you tasted for fucking years," I groaned. "You better believe I'm taking my fucking time with you."
"Oh God, just please don't stop."
"Baby, you couldn't stop me if you tried," I growled.
I laved her with my tongue, pushing into her and tasting every single part of her that was mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
"Damon," she pleaded.
She was begging. She was begging for me to let her come. I was hard for her again already.
"Such a good little slut," I murmured into her, the vibrations of my words making her shudder.
She liked this. No, she loved this. I knew, because as soon as I told her what a filthy whore she was, she clenched around my tongue, orgasm washing through her as she whimpered my name into the room, making me impossibly fucking hard.
I grabbed her thighs and she locked them around my waist, kissing me until I laid her on my bed. She pushed herself up on her arms and stared at me as I pressed my hands on the bed post above me.
"Come here," she asked adorably.
I shook my head.
"Please. I need you now."
An agonized growl escaped me.
"Lay down, princess."
Immediately, she obeyed. There was a very specific sense of satisfaction that came with making the most stubborn woman in New York do exactly what I told her to.
"Show me what you do when you're thinking about me."
She arched an eyebrow. "What makes you believe I think about you?"
Though she was expecting it, a gasp escaped her when I bent down and grabbed her throat, tightening my grip. "If you want my cock inside you, you'll do what I say."
The disobedience died in her eyes when I released her and she laid back in my sheets, ready to put on a fucking show. And fuck, did she ever.
Hands gliding down soft curves.
Desperate moans that filled the air.
Wild, dark hair all over my sheets.
And the infuriating, insufferable, untamable mouth that moaned my name.
Over and over and over again.
I'd fantasized about her for so long, dreamt of her in my fucking bed for goddamn years, but the fantasy couldn't even come close. The real thing—she was so much better.
When she came, she looked at me with soft eyes that practically begged for me to join her in bed. Being the kind, generous soul that I was, I did.
"You drove me crazy for years, princess. You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
"Me too."
"No." I grabbed her hair and pulled her back. "Before. Before I kissed you in that diner. Before the dinner table. Before Cabo. Before all of it."
I grabbed a condom from my bedside table. Ripping it open with my teeth, I eased it on and stared at her flushed cheeks and messy hair in my bed. It felt surreal.
For years, I'd dreamt of her. Thought of her. Imagined what she'd be like in my bed. And now that she was here, I couldn't even believe it. I stared at her with an intensity I didn't know I had and I knew she felt it too.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked in a shy, timid voice. So, she was submissive when she'd been fucked. I made a mental note to fuck her more.
"You're perfect," I whispered against her cheek. "So fucking perfect."
She smiled sheepishly in a post orgasmic haze and trailed her hands down my back.
I leaned back, nudging her thighs open with my knee. "I don't know if I can be gentle," I warned.
"Who said I needed gentle?" She sat up, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pulled me down against her, crashing her lips on mine.
Say less.