Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing paths down his toned chest and abs. He hasn’t bothered with a towel, standing before me completely naked and still very hard.
“Cleaning,” I shoot back, but my words are swallowed as he hauls me to the bathroom like I weigh nothing and plants me on the counter. His presence is overwhelming, and parts of me I’d rather not think about right now start tingling and throbbing.
He wraps his large hand around his monster dick and gives me a sly grin, his eyes never leaving mine. “You seem to be in the wrong place at the right time, little moon.”
I push against his chest, trying to put some distance between us, but Damien is unmovable. My palms slide against his slick skin, and I feel the thundering of his heart beneath my fingertips.
His lips curve into a smirk. “Looks like you found more to clean.”
He strokes himself, slow and deliberate, lust filling his gaze, and something low in my belly tightens deliciously.
He leans in close, his breath warm on my cheek. “Are you afraid, little moon?” he taunts, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“Afraid?” I scoff, tilting my chin up defiantly. “Why would I be afraid of something so… unimpressive?”
It’s a lie, and a bad one at that.
The thing is enormous, and it looks angry… all purple and about ready to burst, literally.
“You couldn’t handle me anyway,” he pants, arrogance dripping from every syllable.
“Please.” I scoff. “Babies come out of vaginas, Damien. I think it can handle your average dick.”
He smirks. “Let’s fill up that smart mouth of yours,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as he grabs my arm and pulls me off the counter and onto the floor.
I should shove him away.
I should scream.
Instead, I’m intrigued as heat pools low, and my pulse stutters.
I feel his cock pressing against my lips. It’s hot and smooth, the head already leaking.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, voice ragged.
I stay silent. I don’t know why.
Actually, that’s a lie. I do know why.
There’s something broken in Damien that calls to the broken parts of myself. My wolf is practically purring, which makes no sense.
I hate that I’m silent, and I hate even more that I’m aroused. But mostly I hate that some part of me wants to see how far he’ll go. How far will I’ll let him go.
“Fuck. Your smell is fucking addictive.” He strokes himself once, twice—thick, glistening—and brushes the tip against mybottom lip. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs again, his hand shaking where it grips my hair. “Please.”
My wolf presses hard against my skin, urging me forward.
I should say it.
I should end this.
Instead, I dart my tongue out, traitor, and taste him. His pre-cum is salty and bitter on my tongue.
Damien groans as he pushes inside. My eyes widen at the stretch; he’s huge, and he fills my mouth completely, even if his thrusts are shallow.
Tears prick my eyes, but my arousal spikes harder. I gag a little when he loses rhythm and goes deeper.
His grip on my hair tightens, and he starts to fuck my mouth, hard and fast. I can feel his balls slapping against my chin.
