Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(20)

"Jesus Christ, Damon, let him go!" Tricia cried, slipping into the water  and trying to push Damon until he released Ron's head. "For fuck's  sake … "

Damon's fingers uncurled and his hands lifted, a grunt escaping his  throat. Ron exploded out of the water, gasping for air and coughing.  Tricia went to him, helped him get his footing in the waist-deep water,  and walked him to the side of the pool where he could cough out whatever  was left in his lungs onto the concrete. Then she turned back to Damon,  disbelief and anger in her eyes.

"Take this as a lesson," Damon said, avoiding Tricia's gaze. Still  coughing but no longer wracked with the pain of suffocation, the kid  turned to face the older man. "Don't bother women who don't want to be  bothered."

With that, Damon made his labored, soggy way towards the stairs, his  movements slowed by the wet denim covering his legs. When he slogged  out, Tricia quick at his heels, he didn't look back.

Jesus, Damon, Tricia thought, trying to figure out what she could  possibly say to him now. You really know how to make a girl feel safe …





21





"What the hell was that?" Tricia said, closing the hotel room door  behind them. Damon had dripped water all the way up, and now it pooled  on the carpet as he stood undoing his belt.

"He was bothering you," Damon growled, keeping his back to Tricia. She  was furious with him, but that didn't stop the slight quickening of her  heart as his drenched jeans fell to his ankles, his boxers equally  soaked and contoured around his thick thighs.

"I was handling it," she hissed. "I didn't need you to … "

"He needed to learn a lesson," Damon barked, interrupting her. He pulled  his shirt up over his head and Tricia willed herself not to admire the  strong muscles of his back, the tightness of his biceps covered in ink.

"And what, you're G.I. Joe? You reserve the right to run around teaching ‘lessons'? You nearly drowned him, Damon!"

Now, Damon leaned down, gathering his clothes into a bundle and walked  them towards the bathroom. Tricia followed close behind, the  conversation far from over.

"Stop walking away from me," she demanded, knowing how shrill her voice  sounded but not caring. She was growing cold, her own skin still wet,  her bathing suit turning icy in the air conditioned room. Goosebumps  rose over the flesh of her arms and legs. She followed him into the  bathroom, stood with her arms crossed as he tossed the wet clothes into  the bathtub. When he turned to her, naked except for the boxers that  hugged every inch of his lower torso, she fought back the urge to glance  down.         

     



 

"He had his hands on you," Damon growled, eyes like a green and verdant wall of ivy, impenetrable and solid.

"So what? No one asked you to be some gypsy vigilante. I was handling  it, Damon. I don't need you to protect me from half-pint little ginger  kids," she snapped. Her body was cold on the outside, but inside she  felt a slow heat building, unwanted. She couldn't help it. He stood  there basically naked in front of her, every muscle tight and  glistening.

"I can't see another man with his hands on you," he growled.

"Well, maybe you should learn to stand it, because … " she said, not  really thinking about what she was saying anymore, her mind torn  viciously between rising desire and roaring anger.

"Because why, Tricia?" he barked, stepping in closer. Finally, she let her gaze drop.

"Because … because … " she felt her mind spinning away from her like a  ballerina. The barely-there cover of his boxers did nothing to hide the  hardness between his legs. Long and thick and …

"Stop trying to answer that," he growled, and reached out with one hand,  yanking her to him in a single tug. Her face flushed as the hardness  pressed against her upper thigh, her hands automatically coming to grip  his biceps. "I'm the only man who's going to have his hands on you. And  you know it. Don't you, Tricia?"

Her words caught in her throat. He reached up, his body relaxing  slightly, his eyes going tender. He ran his fingers through her damp  hair, the tangles and curls catching them at her scalp.

"Don't you?" he whispered, leaning down so that his lips were close  enough for her to feel the breeze of the words slip between her own.

"Yes," she said back, her body feeling like a slow curling line, two points reaching toward each other. "Yes, Damon."

And then he kissed her, and the lines met, completing the circle. Her  heart swelled behind her ribs. He ran his tongue across her lips until  she opened her mouth, their tongues meeting in lusty abandon, her arms  around his neck. The kiss darkened, deepened, their passion meeting,  peaking, breaking. Damon slipped a hand around one breast, his palm warm  against the cold, wet fabric of her bathing suit. Her nipples had been  erect from the cold, and now they stood painfully hard, his thumb making  her stiffen as he rubbed across it.

"Get out of this," he growled, pulling away to whisper in her ear. His  words were a hot swirl of wind on her flesh. "And then come to me."

He backed away then went to the door, leaving her trembling behind him.  Tricia stole a look in the mirror, saw how he'd left her flushed, her  eyes smoky and lidded with lust. She peeled off the swimsuit, leaving it  in a black puddle on the floor. Her body was all goosebumps, cold,  needy.

She followed him out into the room, saw him waiting for her, sitting on  the bed, naked. His cock was impressive, thick and long and hard as a  diamond between his legs. Tricia moved to meet him, but he held his arm  out, stopping her progress.

"Let me look at you first," he growled, starting at her eyes. His dark  gaze followed the curve of her cheeks, down her long, slender neck, to  the frame of her collarbone. She let her head roll back slightly,  feeling his eyes like hands moving down her body, across her rounded  breasts and down the curve of her stomach, over and around her wide  hips, to her trimmed delta, the glistening triangle where her thighs  met.

He growled, turned the hand that held her at bay into a hook pulling her  in close. He grabbed her ass in both hands, leaning forward to take  first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, gently swirling the  hard buds with his tongue, giving her warmth where she was cold, making  her moan and arch her back for more.

Damon watched her squirm in his grip. He drew one hand around to her  torso, palm on her stomach, thumb pressing between her lips. He found  her wet, hot and ready. Growling, he dipped his thumb into her center  then drew it upwards, pressing against her clit. Her whole being jumped  at his touch, the demanding pressure. Pulling on her ass, he backed up  slightly onto the bed; she lay her hands on his shoulders as he forced  her to straddle him, his cock pressing against her slit while his thumb  played and teased her clit.

"Damon," she breathed. "You're so … "

Her voice trailed off into a throaty moan as he pulled her down further  while thrusting his hips upward. She took him in, inch by inch, feeling  him stretch and fill her aching pussy. Her knees sunk into the mattress,  his hand firm on her backside, his thumb torturing her clit with small  circles. She closed her eyes, threw her head back, and sank down until  she hit bottom, until his whole cock was buried in her warm center. The  size and heat of him throbbed inside her.         

     



 

"Look at me," he demanded, his tone forcing her to obey. She spread her  knees slightly and looked down. Slowly, she tried to rise, but found him  holding her tightly in place. His thumb sped up around her clit, adding  to the network of pleasure that was building in her womb. "Don't  fucking move."

"How am I … " she started to say, but was silenced again when he began to  thrust upwards from below, his thumb on her clit ripping up her  resistance. He was strong enough to move her how he wanted to move her,  one hand pulling her up and down in time with his own thrusts. His thumb  never stopped circling, flicking, pleasuring her clit.

Tricia felt heat rushing to her ears and cheeks as she looked down into  his eyes, letting him command her body like the captain of a ship. He  didn't drop his stare as he leaned forward to take one nipple between  his lips again. Fire shot through Tricia's veins as his huge cock filled  every inch of her, thrusting against places inside her that no one had  found before.

She knew she wasn't going to last long with him grinding himself deep  inside her, his thumb torturing her clit, his mouth moving between her  breasts. Her breath was already coming fast and heavy, her fingernails  digging into his back.

"Oh, my God, baby," she moaned as he shifted his hips, digging even deeper into her pussy. "Too fucking good … too fucking good … "

"You're gonna come for me," he growled against her flesh. "Look at me  when you come, Tricia. Look at me so you know exactly who made you feel  so fucking good."