Page 55 of Sticks & Serpents

I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, “Come for me, little lamb. Just like before.”

Her body began to twitch. I kept moving, drawing out her second orgasm, feeling every wave of pleasure that coursed through her.

Holly arched beneath me, her nails raking down my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her moans were soft, breathy, breaking against my skin like waves crashing on a shore. I shuddered—because no one else had ever made those sounds for me. No one else ever would.

When I pushed into her, it was too much. Too much want. Too much pain. Too much history.

Holly gasped, her hands clutching at my arms, digging into my flesh as if she were trying to anchor herself to this moment. “Damien—” she whispered, her voice a mixture of plea and surrender.

My forehead pressed against hers, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in sync. My voice was rough, raw with the intensity of everything we were feeling.

“You’re mine,” I said, the words escaping my lips like a secret, a promise.

She didn’t argue. Because she knew. She knew that in this moment, there was no denying the truth that bound us together.

Holly’s moans echoed in my ears, each sound driving me wilder. I thrust into her, feeling her body respond to mine, our connection electric and raw. Every movement was a dance of desperation and need, a primal rhythm that felt like coming home.

“Fuck, Holly,” I groaned, my voice rough and ragged. “You feel so good.”

Her nails dug into my back, her breath hitching as I moved deeper, harder. The room spun around us, but all that mattered was this moment—the heat between us, the connection that felt like a lifeline.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. “Have you been with anyone since I was last inside you?” The words were a growl, a demand.

Holly’s eyes widened, her breath catching. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “No.”

A dark satisfaction surged through me. “Good. Because I’ll fucking kill him, Holly. I swear.”

Her body trembled beneath me. The intensity of our connection was overwhelming, a storm of emotions that threatened to consume us both.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotion. “Always have been. Always will be.”

Her eyes met mine, a mixture of defiance and surrender. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The admission sent a jolt of satisfaction through me. I leaned in, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. Our bodies moved in sync, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge. The world outside faded into nothingness, leaving only us—caught in this chaotic whirlwind where nothing else mattered but this moment and each other.

I gripped her tightly, my fingers digging into her hips as I thrust deeper into her. The sensation of her body wrapped around mine was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that sent jolts of electricity through my veins.

Holly's moans filled the room, each sound driving me wilder. I could feel her body tensing beneath me, her muscles clenching around me as she neared her release. The sight of her like this—lost in pleasure, completely at my mercy—was addictive.

"Come for me, Holly," I growled, my voice low and rough. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

And she did. Her body came undone as she came, her inner muscles clenching around me in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I groaned, my own release building as I continued to move inside her.

With one final thrust, I spilled myself inside of her, feeling the warmth of her body envelop me. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that left me breathless and dizzy.

For a moment, we lay there, our bodies entwined as we caught our breath. The room was silent except for the sound of our ragged breathing, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat.

I pulled out of her slowly, feeling a twinge of regret as I did so. The connection between us was broken, the moment of intimacy over. But even as I pulled away, I knew that this wasn't the end.

Holly looked up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and sated. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. The look on her face said it all—she was mine, completely and utterly mine.

And I was never going to let her go again.

I carried Holly upstairs, her body pliant against mine as I navigated the hallways of her home. The feel of her skin against my chest sent a thrill coursing through me, a reminder of everything we had just shared. Her breath was warm against my neck, and I could sense the tension radiating from her as we reached her room.

When I finally laid her down on the bed, the sheets cool and inviting, I couldn’t help but admire the way she looked—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with confusion and something else I dared to hope for. We lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with unspoken words.

Holly should have been pulling away. Should have been shoving me out the door, declaring this all a mistake. But she stayed.