REVELATION
I stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around my ankles, towel wrapped loosely around my hair but nothing else. Water droplets slid down my spine, my collarbone, between my breasts, slow trails that caught the low light. I dragged the towel over my face, wiping away the last of the shower fog.
When I pulled it down, my heart slamd into my ribs.
Damon.
Lounging on the edge of my bed like he fucking owned it, legs spread, black shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms corded with muscle and faint scars. Dark eyes locked on the second the towel dropped from my face.
"¡Joder!" I hissed, the Spanish curse slipping out sharp and instinctive.
I glared, forgetting, for one glorious, stupid second, that I was completely naked.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Damon?"
His gaze dragged down my body, slow, shaless, hungry. Not subtle. Not polite. Just pure, predatory want. I felt it like a hand between my thighs.
I snapped the towel across my front, clutching it to my chest, but it was too late. He’d already seen everything.
He stood up. Every step toward made the room feel smaller, the air thicker.
"You keep avoiding ," he said, voice low, gravel-rough.
"No, I don’t."
"Yes. You do."
"No, I an, we’ve been working together since..." My words faltered as he closed the last foot of distance. His hand lifted, slow enough I could’ve stopped him, and trailed one fingertip down my cheek, over the curve of my jaw, down the side of my throat.
I shuddered. Full-body, traitorous, hated-it-but-loved-it shudder.
I slapped his hand away.
"That’s different," he murmured, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "When was the last ti we were really alone?"
"What do we need to talk about?" I snapped, stepping back. My spine hit the wall. No more retreat. "And the last ti we were alone you poisoned with a kiss."
He chuckled, sounding amused instead of remorseful. The sound vibrated through my bones.
"Don’t tell you’re still not over that, kitty."
I shoved at his chest. Hard. He didn’t budge, just let push, let feel how solid he was, how much stronger.
"Don’t call that," I hissed. "And we are nothing to each other."
His eyes darkened. "Nothing?"
He stepped in again, crowding , one hand planting on the wall beside my head. The other hovered near my hip, close enough I could feel the heat, not close enough to touch.
"You think I don’t notice?" he said softly. "The way you look at when you think I’m not watching. The way your breath catches when I get too close. The way you fight like you want to win."
I laughed, sharp, bitter. "You’re delusional."
"Am I?" His voice dropped. "Then why are your nipples hard right now, kitten?"
I sucked in a breath. Looked down. Fuck. They were. Tight, aching, betraying under the thin towel.
His gaze followed mine. Then lifted again, slow, filthy.
"You hate ," he said, almost a whisper. "But you want . Bad."
I shoved him again, this ti he let himself be pushed back half a step.
"I don’t want you," I lied.
"Liar."
He caught my wrists, gentle but unbreakable, and pinned them above my head against the wall. The towel slipped. Both breast spilled free. His eyes dropped to it, pupils blowing wide.
"Tell to stop," he murmured. "Say the word and I walk out that door."
My heart was a war drum.
I didn’t say stop.
I said nothing.
He leaned in, slow, giving every second to pull away.
I didn’t.
His mouth crashed into mine.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful.
It was teeth and tongue and hunger, months of hate and want exploding at once. I bit his lip hard enough to taste copper. He groaned into my mouth, low and feral, and pressed his body flush against mine.
His free hand slid down my side, rough palm over ribs, waist, hip, then gripped my thigh, hiked it around his waist. I felt him, hard, thick, straining against his jeans, right there, right where I was already wet and aching.
I hated him.
I wanted him.
I arched into him, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
He broke the kiss, panting, forehead pressed to mine.
"Say it," he growled. "Say you want ."
I laughed, breathless, vicious. "Fuck you."
He grinned, sharp, wicked.
"That’s the plan."
His hand slid between us, fingers finding slick, swollen, ready. One thick finger pushed inside my pussy. I gasped, head falling back against the wall.
"Still hate ?" he murmured, curling that finger, stroking the spot that made my knees buckle.
"Yes," I hissed.
"Good." He added a second finger. "Hate while you co on my hand."
I cursed in Spanish, filthy, broken, hips rocking against him.
He worked fast, ruthless, thumb circling my clit, fingers pumping deep. I was loud, moaning, cursing, begging in half-words. He ate every sound like it was his favorite al.
When I shattered, back arching, thighs shaking, crying his na, he swallowed the sound with another brutal kiss.
He didn’t let co down.
He spun , fast, rough, bent over the dresser. My palms slapped wood. He kicked my legs wider.
I heard his zipper.
Felt the blunt head of his thick cock notch against .
He paused, tip just inside, stretching open.
"Last chance," he rasped against my ear. "Tell to stop."
I looked back at him, eyes wild, lips swollen.
"Fuck. You."
He thrust in, hard, deep, all at once.
I scread.
He groaned, a,guttural animalistic sound.
Then he moved.
Hard. Fast. Rough.
The dresser rattled. My breasts bounced with every thrust. His hand fisted my hair, pulled my head back so he could see my face in the mirror.
"Look at you," he growled. "Hating while you take my cock like you were made for it."
I watched us in the reflection, his big body caging mine, my mouth open on moans, his eyes dark with possession.
I hated him.
I ca again, harder, screaming his na.
He followed, growling mine, spilling deep, hips jerking, marking inside.
We stayed like that, panting, shaking, bodies locked together.
He pulled out slowly, careful now, and turned around.
Pressed his forehead to my shoulder.
"We need to talk," he said quietly. "About Genesis."
I blinked, still hazy, still trembling.
His thumb brushed my bottom lips.
"What about her?"
He lifted like I weighed nothing, turning around, his hands clamping under my thighs, spreading wide as he straightened. My ass hit the edge of the dresser with a sharp thud. Legs dangling, ankles hooked behind his back, I was open, dripping, still pulsing from the last orgasm.
Damon didn’t even say anything else.
He lined up again, cock still slick from being inside , thick head nudging my entrance. One brutal snap of his hips and he buried himself to the hilt. No slow slide. No rcy. Just raw, stretching fullness that punched the air out of my lungs.
"Fuccccck," I cried out, sharp and broken, nails raking down his biceps hard enough to leave red trails. He hissed through his teeth but didn’t slow down. He fucked like he was trying to carve his na into my cunt.
Every thrust slamd deep, hips snapping forward with punishing force. The dresser creaked under us, wood groaning in protest. My breasts jolted with each impact, nipples grazing the rough fabric of his shirt still bunched at his elbows. Sweat already beaded on his throat, trickling down the corded column of his neck.
"Look at this greedy little pussy," he growled, voice wrecked. "Swallowing whole even after I just filled you up. You love being stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?"
I couldn’t form words. Only desperate, filthy sounds spilled out—whimpers, moans, half-curses in Spanish that dissolved into gasps when he angled harder, hitting that swollen spot inside over and over.
He gripped my hips, fingers digging bruises I would feel for days, yanking forward to et every brutal plunge. Wet, obscene slaps filled the room, louder than my ragged breathing. Slick coated my inner thighs, his balls, dripped onto the wood beneath us. I was soaked, embarrassingly so, every withdrawal pulling fresh arousal out with his shaft.
He leaned down, mouth latching onto one nipple, sucking hard, teeth scraping just shy of pain. I arched, offering more, thighs trembling around his waist. His tongue flicked the tight peak once, twice, then he bit down lightly. Pleasure spiked so sharp I almost ca right then.
"Not yet," he snarled against my skin. "You co when I say."
He straightened, one hand sliding up to collar my throat, not choking, just holding, thumb pressing under my jaw so I had to look at him. Dark eyes burned into mine while he pounded relentlessly, pace never faltering.
"Say it again," he demanded. "Tell to fuck you."
"Fuck you," I gasped, but the words ca out wrecked, needy.
He laughed, low and feral. "That’s my girl."
His other hand dropped between us. Two fingers found my clit, rubbing fast, rough circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. Pressure built instantly, coiling tight and hot in my belly. My whole body clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper.
He groaned, hips stuttering for the first ti. "Fuck, squeeze like that again. Milk my cock, kitten. Show how bad you need it."
I did. Clenched hard, inner walls fluttering, rippling down his length. He cursed under his breath, thrusts turning erratic, sloppy, chasing his own edge while dragging toward mine.
"Co," he ordered, voice gravel and command. "Co all over this dick right fucking now."
I shattered.
Louder this ti. Whole body seizing, back bowing off the dresser, thighs locking around him so tight he could barely move. Wave after wave crashed through , cunt spasming, gushing fresh slick that soaked his shaft, his jeans, the edge of the wood. I scread his na until my throat turned raw.
He didn’t stop.
Kept fucking through it, drawing out every tremor, every pulse, until I was oversensitive, twitching, whimpering. Only then did he let go.
One final, savage thrust buried him balls-deep. He ca with a guttural roar, hips jerking, cock pulsing thick ropes inside . Heat flooded deep, spilling out around where we were joined, trickling down my ass, pooling beneath .
He stayed seated, breathing hard against my neck, still twitching inside my fluttering walls. Minutes passed. Neither of us moved.
Finally he pulled back just enough to et my eyes. Sweat slicked his forehead, hair falling into his face. He looked wrecked. Satisfied. Dangerous.
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