Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(16)

"I thought … I thought … "

"I don't want to fuck you," he said, and gently began to push her down,  back onto her sleeping bag and mat. When she was lying flat, his body  poised above hers, he met her lips with his own once more. When he  pulled away, her lips trailed along behind his, wanting more. "But I  want to taste you."

"Damon … " Tricia started to say, but she was silenced by the flash of his  eyes in the darkness as he lowered himself along her body. She tried to  push up to her elbows, blushing, glad he couldn't see her cheeks  getting red. "You don't have to … "

"I know I don't," he said when he finally settled himself between her  legs, his fingers gently pushing at her closed thighs. "I want to."

"I just don't think … oh … " Tricia's protest was interrupted by her cry as  Damon shoved the bottom of her shirt up and kissed the tender flesh  right above her panty line. Her head fell backwards. Her heart picked up  speed, slow at first, like a freight train gaining traction.

He kissed along her tummy, then down her hips to her inner thighs.  Finally, she let her muscles go slack, and he pulled her legs open  tenderly. His hands moved around her waist to her buttocks, forcing her  hips to rise, his grip firm on each globe. He worked his fingers up  until he had a grip on her panties and then pulled downwards until she  was bared before him; he felt the heat of her desire and growled into  it. Tricia's spine stiffened, and then shivered.         

     



 

He kissed along the inside of her right thigh, his full, bushy beard  tickling her from the knee all the way up to her mound. Passing over her  sex, he blew a single, strong gust across her pulsing clit, felt her  hands shoot down to his hair  –  he knew she wanted him closer, needed  more, but he wasn't going to give in just yet. Instead, he moved to her  left knee and traced the same path upward, feeling her tremble and her  breath speed up with each passing inch.

Finally, he was before her womanhood once more, one hand on each thigh,  spreading her legs to the limits of their comfort and not a centimeter  further. And then he leaned forward, and slid his tongue from the base  of her to the top, slowly savoring every drip and texture in between.  And now her hands did clench in his hair, her body tensing up as he  reached her clit and slowed, his tongue lingering over the tender button  while his beard tickled everything around it.

Finally, he dragged the tip upward, flicking it sharply, and was  rewarded with a cry of pleasure and a shudder  –  both so violent that he  thought she might have climaxed already.

"Oh, my God, Damon," Tricia said, feeling her body respond to him in a  way she'd never known before. She'd never been shy about sex, always  enjoyed giving and receiving oral … but no one had ever made her feel like  this. As he began to lick her, long and steady and slow, moving  consistently from the bottom to the top, his tongue flat and broad until  it flicked over her clit, she lost herself entirely in the sensation.  It felt like he was worshipping her, wanted to take his time, wanted to  savor her taste forever. No man had ever been so patient … and that  tickling beard was fun, too. She melted into the ground.

Her clit was swollen, poking from its hood, begging for attention more  and more with each luxurious lap. Damon knew that one hard, sharp lick  at it would drive her over the edge, but he didn't want that yet. He was  enjoying her taste far too much, the way her body rolled and her hips  undulated in response to him. She didn't even know she was doing it, she  was so wrapped up in the pleasure. Her fingers raked through his hair,  tickling his scalp. He was in heaven. So was she.

Finally, her movements began to lose their rhythm. Her breathing was  growing ragged. Her hands in his hair were tugging instead of stroking.  He'd teased her long enough. He moved forward slightly. He stopped the  long, slow pace. He focused on that little bud at the top. He wiggled  the tip of his tongue against it, feeling her hips jerk with it. He let  his tongue roll across it in a broad stroke, then wiggled the tip again,  feeling her reaction like a reward. Her hands were tight against his  hair now. She was moaning, her thighs tightening around him. Closing his  lips around her clit, he suckled gently.

"Oh, fuck!" he heard her voice rattle through the night air, thick with lust. "Oh, holy shit … !"

He couldn't help but growl his approval of her pleasure, and the  vibration from his lips passed through her like darts of pleasure.  Tricia felt like a great light was forming in her clit, a ball of  nervous energy that would grow and grow until it exploded. And as Damon  began to lick her faster and faster, his tongue whipping up and over and  around and all over, she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against  him, couldn't help but pull his head in tighter, her thighs shaking with  tension, so tight it almost hurt.

"Damon," she moaned, her head thrashing to the side. "Damon, please,  please, I'm so … I'm so fuck … .oh, god, I'm so close, I'm … I'm … OH … "

He closed his teeth over her clit, just barely enough for her to feel to  sudden change in sensation. And it drove her over the edge, detonated  that ball of energy so that it flooded her body, making her muscles snap  straight and then release, her body feeling like it could levitate off  the ground. Her toes dug into the bottom of her feet, her hands grabbed  at Damon's hair, her hips bucked and jerked against the ground. Pleasure  like she'd never known before, endless, bottomless, infinite.

For Damon, it was almost as good, feeling her body radiate its heat  against him, feeling her lose control as she came, and knowing it was  all his doing. He held on to her thighs, keeping her clit on his tongue,  until her jerking shudders subsided. Pulling away, he licked the last  of her pleasure from his lips. His cock was hard again, but he could  deal with that. Even when he felt Tricia's hands on his biceps, trying  to pull him up and over her, he could resist the demands his dick was  making. Instead, he rolled over to her side and hoisted himself along  until he was lying beside her.

"Aren't you going to … do you want me to … " she could still barely talk  between breaths, and he smiled as he kissed her temple, putting one arm  across her chest.         

     



 

"No," he said simply. "I just want you to have a good night's sleep."

"Oh," she said, and he thought she giggled a little after. Tricia's  sleeping bag was the kind that could be unzipped to form a blanket, and  it was a warm enough night; he pulled it out from under her and spread  it across them, then turned to enfold her soft body in his hard arms.  She sighed, already half-asleep once more. He spoke into her ear,  rhythmic lines paced to her rising chest, to help her sleep. She made  him want to recite every love poem he knew, starting with his favorite,  by Jack Gilbert.

"Not for the impersonal belly nor the heart's drunkenness

Have I come this far, stubborn, disastrous way.

But for relish of those archipelagos of person.

To hold her in hand, close as any sparrow … "

He made sure to wait until she was fully asleep before he joined her in  slumber. And she didn't have any more bad dreams that night.





17





"You shouldn't be in here, Ricky," Kim hissed from the doorway, looking  into the darkened room. It was sparse, with nothing but a few old movie  posters on the walls, a bookshelf, and a side-table beside the bed.  Ricky looked up at her sister and shrugged, but the gesture was more  desperate than nonchalant.

"I'm sure Kennick isn't taking this any better than Cristov," Ricky  said, whispering back. They were alone in the trailer, but the very act  of spying seemed to require hushed tones. Kim shifted uncomfortably as  Ricky crouched down and examined the books on the shelf.

"That's not really any of our business," Kim said, knowing it was a lie.  Ricky shot her a look over her shoulder. Leave it to Ricky to decide to  investigate, Kim thought, both frustrated and relieved. Ricky's  journalist instincts definitely took priority over any sense of decorum  or the right to privacy.

"It's our business as long as this family is our family too," Ricky said, raising her eyebrows.

"It's not your family yet," Kim protested, shifting from one foot to the other.

"You're my sister, and that makes Kennick my brother-in-law," Ricky  said, turning back to the shelves. "And if you haven't forgotten, he's  not alone. Tricia's with him. And fuck, I love the shit out of these  boys, but not as much as I love the shit out of Tricia. Now are you just  gonna stand there judging me, or are you going to help me figure out  where the hell Damon went?"

"I highly doubt that he dragged Tricia along without her permission," Kim said. "She went willingly. He didn't kidnap her."