7. Claimed-I
1037 Words
"So, since the contract is signed, should we move forward then, Miss Smith?"
Damien's voice was a dark purr, his thumb tracing the edge of the paper where her lipstick stain still glistened.
That mischievous smile played on his lips… teasing, taunting, promising all at the same time.
Emma's pulse spiked, but she refused to let him see it.
He is really professional. He can even make me feel things just by his words. On top of that, he is extremely good looking. What a shame, he is just an escort!
"You are eager, aren't you?" She took the file and placed it on the table with deliberate slowness, her fingers lingering just a second too long.
A mistake.
In a blur of motion, Damien's hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist and yanking her forward. She gasped as she collided against him, her body straddling his lap, her chest pressed flush against his. The heat of him seared through her dress, and his scent… expensive bourbon and something darker, primal… something Emma never had experienced before flooded her senses.
"I don't like wasting your time," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His breath was hot, deliberate, sending a shiver straight down her spine.
Then he kissed her.
Not the soft, tentative kiss of a man who followed rules. No, Damien devoured her. His mouth slanted over hers, demanding, possessive, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, filthy rhythm that made her whimper. Emma's hands fisted in his shirt, her nails digging into the fabric as he deepened the kiss, stealing her breath, her thoughts, her control.
Not the soft, tentative kiss of a man who followed rules.
When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, glistening, her chest heaving.
A thrill and fear both curled in her heart side by side. Cradled in his arms, she looked at him, brimming in embarrassment and excitement.
Damien watched her closely, a dark gleam in his eyes. As if reading her thoughts, he murmured,
“Are you scared, Bella?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
His hand slid up her thighs with deliberate slowness, pushing the hem of her dress higher inch by inch, until his fingers brushed the lace edge of her panties.
“Because if you are,” he husked, voice thick with heat, “you shouldn’t have come here.”
But Emma didn’t move. Couldn’t.
His touch grew bolder, his thumb pressing gently over the silk, teasing circles that made her hips twitch.
Her breath hitched. A soft moan escaped her lips as her body arched into his hand.
“Oh God,” she whispered, trembling.
Damien leaned in, his lips brushing her ear with a wicked smirk.
“You won’t need God tonight, Bella. All you need… is me.”
Her panties were soaked beneath his strokes, heat pulsing through her with every slow swirl of his thumb. Sparks danced in her veins, butterflies fluttered violently in her stomach, and whatever fear she had left was burning away—replaced by raw, aching want.
He dragged his mouth along the curve of her neck, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Already this wet for me?”
He grazed her earlobe with his teeth. “Good girl.”
Then his mouth was on her neck, sucking, biting, marking her in a way that made her dig her nails into his shoulders. His lips trailed lower, over her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, until he reached the strapless neckline of her dress. With a sharp tug, the fabric pooled at her waist, leaving her in nothing but a black lace bra and those sinful panties.
Damien's gaze darkened. "Perfect."
He didn't undress her further. Not yet. Instead, he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed and laying her down like something precious, coveted. Then he dropped to his knees.
Emma's breath caught in her throat. She trembled—delicate, uncertain, like a lamb caught in the gaze of a predator. Just minutes ago, she'd spoken with bold confidence, wielding her words like armor.
But now… that armor was gone.
Fear crept back in—not of him, but of what came next. Dointg it for the first time. That too with a stranger!
"Damien…" his name slipped from her lips in a breathless whisper.
Should I ask him to stop? Should I tell him it's my first time? Many thoughts consumed Emma but before she could mouth them, she heard him again.
"Spread your legs." It was a command, not a request.
Her body obeyed, her thighs quivered as she parted them, surrendering to the heat pulsing between them. Damien knelt before her like a dark promise, his fingers hooking into the lace of her panties and pulling them down slowly, deliberately, before discarding them onto the floor.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he pushed her knees wider, exposing her completely.
His thumbs slid along the slick, sensitive folds of her p***y, already wet and wanting.
"Look at you," he growled. "So f*****g pretty when you're desperate."
Then he licked a slow, torturous stripe up her slit.
Emma jolted, a broken cry tearing from her throat as his tongue circled her clit, sucking lightly, just enough to make her hips buck.
"More-" she begged, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Damien chuckled, the vibration against her clit making her whimper. "Patience, Bella.”
But he gave her no mercy. His velvety tongue plunged inside her, f*****g her in deep, relentless strokes, while his thumb rubbed tight circles on her clit. Emma arched off the bed, her moans growing louder, more frantic, her thighs clamping around his head as pleasure coiled tighter, hotter.
"Damien, I-I'm gonna-" she was breathless.
"Come," he ordered, his voice rough with lust. "Now."
And she shattered.
Her orgasm ripped through her, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure, her body convulsing as Damien licked her through it, his tongue relentless, until she was sensitive, shaking, utterly ruined.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were shiny with her, his eyes wild, possessive.
"That," he said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, "was just the beginning."
Emma's breath caught.
Because Damien Rodriguez wasn't done with her yet.
- Writer
