Thirty minutes later, they were snuggled together on the couch, watching a documentary about a serial killer with half of a sushi restaurant’s delivery menu incoming. Andi was leaning into him, feeling the comforting rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way her hair caught a little on the shadow of a beard on his chin, and one of his arms was wound about her body to hold her hand. He was intently watching the TV while she was watching him.
“Oh…no…don’t do that,” Damian said, as a woman’s abduction was reenacted on the screen. He looked down at Andi. “Why did she do that? He was clearly lying!”
Andi bit her lips not to snicker.
“Is this really what you watch for fun?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Yeah,” she said with a laugh.
“Why?”
“Uhhhh…I don’t know, really. They’re interesting? And I’m morbid? And…not everyone dies. If you watch one of these to the end, usually the guy gets caught.”
“Not if the police don’t listen to that one woman who escaped,” Damian muttered.
“It’s a two-hour show,” Andi chuckled. “They’ve got like ninety minutes left.”
“Wait…then how many more people does he murder?” His eyes widened in horror. “I have to admit, Andi, I thought earth was a lot safer than this—”
“Oh my God, now you’re not going to let me go outside—”
“I can think of so many more things worth doing inside, it’s true,” he said, leaning meaningfully toward her, as they both heard feet upon the stairs.
“Dinner!” Andi cheerfully laughed as keys slid into the lock, and Sammy let herself in.
Sammy stumbled into the hall, kicking off her shoes, and shouting, “Andi!” out of habit before spotting both of them. “Oh…um…hi?” she guessed, letting her expression slide into a shit-eating grin.
Andi groaned over dramatically. “Get it all out now, sister.”
“All what?” Sammy asked, feigning innocence, before walking over to introduce herself to Damian, one hand out. “I’m Sammy—”
“Andi’s beautiful Irish roommate who’s into cars,” Damian said, leaning forward over Andi to shake her hand warmly. “I’m Damian. We briefly met the other night.”
“Yes, but that was before I knew you had a Pagani,” Sammy said. She perched on the last remaining couch cushion like she wouldn’t be here long, but Andi tucked her toes under Sammy’s thigh because they were cold, and she knew Sammy’s posture was lying. There was no way her roommate was going anywhere until she’d secured a future drive.
Andi listened to Sammy and Damian discuss cars, enjoying the easy way with which they spoke to one another. Two more murders were committed on the TV in the background, as they discussed RPMs or RPGs—Andi didn’t really know or care. She just liked that two of the people who mattered to her had a thing in common. Sandwiched in between them on the couch, with Damian’s arm around her, feeling the bass rumble of him speaking in his chest interspersed with Sammy’s lovely lilt, she felt safe and warm and like maybe she didn’t need the rest of her family.
Maybe she didn’t need her uncle’s answers, either.
Then there was a knock on the door as the sushi arrived. As they worked on appetizers, Sammy finally stopped pumping Damian for stats on his vehicles and eyed the TV. “Oh! I watched this one last week! That throat-slicing, brrrr!” she said and shivered, popping an edamame into her mouth to shell it with her teeth.
Damian looked between them both—mystified—and Andi laughed.
By the end of the murder show, which both Andi and his dragon were actually watching—his dragon fascinated by the fact that they would re-enact murders on TV for viewing purposes—and which, for some reason, her roommate was content to watch a second time, Damian saw Andi yawn. If it’d just been the two of them, Damian would’ve picked her up and carried her back to her bedroom, but he didn’t want to do anything untoward while her roommate was watching.
“Did he ever confess to the other three?” Andi asked Sammy while loading all of their leftovers into one plastic clamshell.
“Not yet, the asshole. I looked it up on Wikipedia. But you know he did them,” Sammy said, taking everything from Andi to put it into their fridge. “So,” she announced, returning to the living room. “I’m going to bed now,” she said in a leading fashion.
Andi grinned. “Damian…close your eyes, okay?”
He blinked between both of them. “Are you going to cut my throat?” he teased.
“Yeah, me and these chopsticks are going to get right on that,” Andi said, sitting upright. “Also, don’t listen.” She put her hands over both his ears.
He heard the murmur of quiet conversation and some bargaining, and then felt Andi shudder with laughter before saying, “Okay, okay.”
“Love you, girl…night!” Sammy said, then added. “Nice to meet you, Damian!” as her voice retreated down the hall.
Andi released his ears and reached for the remote, turning the TV off. “What’d I miss?” he asked.
“Usually we have a ‘no strange men’ policy here because this place is too small to be running into strangers in the morning. But, same as everywhere else, being rich has its privileges, and I basically promised her three rides in your car,” Andi said, and he laughed. “It was that, or she was only going to let you spend the night so she could steal your keys.”
“Just three rides?” Damian grinned. He couldn’t say the idea of driving Sammy around filled him with glee, but if it made Andi happy—
“Three drives, rather,” Andi corrected. “As in, you in the passenger seat. And you’d better buckle yourself tight. Sammy used to rally race.”
Damian laughed. “Your roommate drives a hard bargain.”
“Well, she knows what I’m worth,” Andi said, beaming up at him.
“I do, too,” he told her.
Her eyebrows arched. “And what’s that?”
“Everything.” He brought his hands up to catch her face and then kissed her.
If she had tensed even for a moment or pulled back, he would’ve stopped. He knew she’d already been through so much today, but her lips opened and her tongue met his as it pushed in, just as eager to taste him as he was her. His arms ran down to encircle her body, pulling her on top of him as they made out, listening to Sammy make politely quick trips between her bedroom and her bathroom down the hall, both of them freezing and quietly laughing as the faucet ran and Sammy presumably brushed her teeth, while his hands ran over the soft fabric separating him from the heat of Andi’s skin.
Then they both heard Sammy’s bedroom definitively lock, and the kissing began in earnest as she rose over him, pressing him back into the couch with her mouth as his hands slid underneath her top and up her ribs to cup her breasts, and he felt her shiver as his thumbs played over her nipples. She gasped and pulled her head back, whispering, “Bedroom?” but he shook his head. Confusion clouded her. “Why?”
“Because I want to fuck you here, princess,” he whispered, kissing up her jaw. He knew why, even if he didn’t want to say it—because he wanted to claim her every which way, in every space possible. He wanted her to know she’d been taken on every surface of this room. He didn’t want her to look so much as sideways without remembering him in her and the way he’d made her feel.
She moaned as his lips reached the spot right below her ear, then whispered, “But it’s kind of rude.”
“Only if I don’t buy you a new couch afterward,” he said and nipped at her as he slid his hands down over the outside of her pajamas to cradle her ass and pull her splay-legged over him as he leaned back and pushed his hips forward, offering himself up for her to grind on. His cock was rock hard inside his jeans, and feeling the pressure of her grinding made him ache in a way that would’ve been intolerable if he hadn’t known all the pleasures that could come.
“This is so high school,” she whispered and giggled.
“Yes, tell me all about your high school boyfriends, so I can murder them for ever having touched you,” Damian said, not entirely lying, looking up at her with a grin as she kept slowly rubbing herself against him.
“And here you were horrified by serial killers?” she laughed, then closed her eyes and made a soft noise of delight, as she rocked her hips forward, settling in. Then her bright gaze was on him again. “But, I didn’t actually lose my virginity until I was twenty…because my mother would’ve killed me. When did you?”
He didn’t have to stop to think. “Fourteen.”
Andi stopped grinding and looked down at him with more horror than she’d shown for the entire time the TV show was playing. “That seems a little young.”
“It was what it was,” he said, pulling his hands away from her ass and putting them much more politely over the fabric at her hips. “My father decided that since I had my dragon, it was time. He put me in a room with a courtesan and locked the door and said he wouldn’t open it for anyone until we were finished.”
Andi gasped. “Oh, no.”
“Exactly,” Damian agreed. He ran his tongue along the line of his teeth, wondering what he should tell her. He’d never told anyone this story before, although he assumed that Max and Grim knew. “I waited a day. It wasn’t even that I didn’t want to have sex—although I am sure that up until that point, I didn’t really even know what it was—but I was mad at my father for controlling my life like that…again. But then the woman got thirsty and begged me and….” He shrugged, staring over Andi’s shoulder, fearing the look of pity that was surely on her face.
She took his chin in her hands and yanked him over to see her, and she was furious on his behalf. “That was not okay, Damian. That was awful. And you didn’t do anything to deserve that.”
And then I saved you, his dragon murmured, and Damian found that now that he’d started talking about it, he didn’t want to stop.
“My dragon was there. It knew what to do, so I gave in to it—to this thing, moving inside me—making me like an automaton.” He bowed his head at the memory.
Andi rose up and wrapped her arms around him, drawing his head to her chest where he could feel the soft fabric of her pajamas against his cheek and hear the thrumming of her heart beating. His hands rose with her and then wound about her waist, holding her tight, letting her stroke her hands through his hair and down his back, and then they just breathed together, each holding the other for support.
“If your father wasn’t already dead, I would figure out a way to kill him,” Andi muttered, possessively.
Damian snorted and shook his head against her. “I appreciate that. But it was a long time ago, now. Although when people wondered why I left the Realms—I have a hundred reasons why, each sadder than the next.” He looked up at her and swiped a thumb against her perfect lips just because he wanted to touch them. “The thought of ever going back there is intolerable.”
“Good,” she agreed, wholeheartedly.
“Now…where were we?” he asked, grabbing the backs of her knees and pulling her back down.
She stiffened her arms against his shoulders, pushing away. “Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
“With you? Always,” he said, arching up.
“But you can’t be serious, not after telling me that,” she protested.
He reached up and cradled her head with a hand. “Andi…every time I do what I want with my body now, I win. And what I want right now is you.”
She blinked at him, biting her soft lips, and then nodded, rocking carefully against him, and whatever blood had evacuated his cock during his memories now came rushing back.
“That’s it,” he whispered to her, biting back a grunt, watching her as she started to grind in earnest, tilting her hips forward and dragging herself up and down. “That’s what I want to see.” She closed her eyes and made small soft moans, and he relished the feeling of her heat on him even through the denim. “Rub your clit and pussy for me, Andi. Rub on me until you can’t help it anymore. Come without me in you, get yourself hot and wet for me.” She made a small whine and leaned harder. “I can’t fuck you until you’re ready for me, Andi,” he whispered, arching up, giving her more of him to rub on. “I want your pussy to fucking ache to feel me.”
She flashed him a pretend pout. “You’re so dirty.”
“You like it,” he said with a grin. “Hurry up and come, so I can fuck you.”
Her pout momentarily became real. “And you’re mean.”
He grabbed hold of her hips and stopped her grinding, and she looked at him, hot and flushed. “Not yet, princess. But, when I am…you’ll like that, too.”
She swallowed, and he could see her pulse pounding at her throat, and slowly and with great deliberation, he slid a hand into the waistband of her soft and chaste pajamas, fingers down the front of her stomach until he could crook them up into her soft folds. She gasped at his touch, and she was already wet enough to take him, which made his cock thump to be inside her, but first, he had a point to make. He pulled out his hand and licked his fingers clean, then reached for his belt with intent. Yes, his dragon urged him, already reading his mind.
She’d assumed he would pull himself out, but as he started freeing his belt from his waist, her eyes went wide.
“What’re you doing?” she whispered.
“Shhh,” he counseled, freeing his belt entirely, and holding it looped to the side like an empty bridle.
“Damian,” she warned, squirming on his lap in fear, which made him even harder.
“Don’t worry. I’d never spank you with it where Sammy could hear,” he teased. “Do you trust me, princess?”
She sat there for a moment, considering—he knew she wanted him, he could still taste her on his lips, after all—but he also knew that this was like nothing she’d ever done before.
“I do.” She said. “I think,” she added.
“Good. Now, have I ever withheld an orgasm from you?”
Her eyes narrowed in curiosity, then she shook her head. “Not that I would let you, though,” she muttered, and he laughed.
“Then trust me, princess. We’re just taking a different path to the same destination is all,” he said, holding up his black leather belt in front of her.
Andi looked between it and him, and then finally, hesitantly, said, “Okay,” and offered up her hands.
Just her agreeing to try twisted the knife of his need inside him, and he fought not to rush her. “Thank you, princess, but not that. No…this way, we’ll be ever so quiet and polite for your very understanding roommate, all right?” he promised, ignoring her proffered wrists to thumb the leather against her lips, running it around the back of her head where he buckled it and held onto the tail of the belt like a leash.
At that, her pulse went racing, much more than it’d been before.
“You still have access to safety. All you need to do is pinch me, and I’ll stop, I promise. I’m not tying your hands.” She frowned at him and made a sound like a question—likely to see if she could make a sound—and he smiled wickedly. “Open your mouth.” She did so slowly, her brow furrowed, and he saw the full edges of her lips appear on either side of his belt’s black leather. He pressed a thumb against it, creasing it in against her teeth. “Bite,” he commanded and felt the pressure as she did so.
Then he leaned back to take her all in. “Goddamn,” he whispered, and his dragon purred. His Andi in her white and teal striped pajamas was the very vision of innocence, only she was silenced by the black leather cutting across her face, straddling him, her scent thickening the air. Darkness roiled in him, the need to punish beaten out by the need to protect, but only barely.
He held the belt loosely behind her, and her eyes were as wild as her hair. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
One of her eyebrows quirked to let him know what she thought of that, and he laughed, grabbing her ass with his free hand and pulling it over him. “Let’s get back to where we were.”
She frowned, looking injured, but she placed her hands on his chest and did that thing with her chin, tilting it up so that he knew she ruled everything around her, even him, and that she was only humoring him was all.
“You are going to be such a handful,” he murmured to himself, and she looked offended at that. “You are already such a handful,” he amended, and he watched her chest rise and fall in a sharp laugh. He grinned at her, and his free hand went for the buttons of her pajamas, unsnapping them one by one as she bowed her head to watch him, then he arched his hips up, reminding her of why they were here. Her hands became small fists against his chest, and as he finished opening her top and reached to cup a breast, she finally began to grind again.
“Good, princess.” He murmured words of encouragement, using his makeshift bridle to hold her head back and expose her neck to him. He fluttered kisses along it, and she writhed. Then, he started to lick and suck, sending her hips roiling. He bent her back as he leaned forward, bringing his mouth first to one breast then the next, working her nipples hard with his tongue as she gave a muffled moan.
She gave up on grinding him then, as one of her hands went between her legs and the other caught in his hair—he could feel her fingers working in between them, rubbing herself so hard, and he heard her breath catch. He tightened the belt behind her and pulled her to him, forehead to forehead, her riding him and touching herself, the hot scent of her filling the air, knowing that the same pussy that he was going to fuck was dripping for him already. He smoothed his cheek against hers, feeling the leather of his belt alongside his jaw as he went to whisper in her ear. “Does my poor, tortured princess need to come?”
She nodded strongly and made a muffled whine. She was so perfect and so his; she was his mate, and she needed him. He couldn’t stand it anymore—his cock fucking hurt, and if he didn’t get to feel it in her, he would die. He growled and reached between them, furiously undoing the fly of his jeans with one hand, shoving them down as she tensed and whined—so close, so close—and he let go of the belt to grab the ass of her pajamas with both hands to rip them off of her, exposing her to him as he reached between her legs to center himself as she still rubbed with her fingers, and then he was pulling her onto himself as she thrashed, and he pushed into her right as she was coming. He hissed as she quivered around him, pussy pulsing around his cock like it was trying to drink him down. He let out a guttural moan because fuck, entering her had never felt like this before, and her hips pulled him in with her spasms like she needed him inside her. Her moans were muffled by the leather, but he could feel her chest heave against him, and her hands were clenched into fists in his shirt the same way her pussy was grabbing him now. He swept one hand up quickly into her hair and pulled the end of the belt again as he finished the job, impaling himself inside her, feeling the echoes of her pulsing still.
Each time with her is always new, his dragon murmured, relishing the sensations the same as he did.
Yes, oh, yes, Damian agreed, as he felt her give a final tug.
“You couldn’t wait, could you, princess?” he whispered to her when she was finished. A bead of sweat traced between her breasts, looking every bit like the precum he knew he was leaking inside her now, and she flashed him a guilty sex-glazed look. “No…don’t apologize,” he said, rewarding her with another thrust. “I love it when you come,” he said, well aware of how quickly that phrase could’ve become dangerous. He thrust up into her again, so tempted to say more, now that she couldn’t tell him he was being cruel. But somehow, he kept his head, even though his cock was buried deep inside her. “As long as you’re only coming for me,” he teased, but he knew he meant it. If anyone else so much as touched her, he would kill them. He swallowed, slowly pulsing in and out of her as she held herself still for him, her hands on his shoulders, keeping her hips in the perfect spot to arch along his length. He slid a hand beneath her breast, rubbing her nipple softly with a thumb. Her head rocked back, letting her still slightly damp hair cascade behind her. Her eyes closed, and at that moment, as she started to bob her hips against him, as he felt her soft folds parting to take him in, he realized the one thing his father’s decision had stolen from him—he’d never gotten to dream about a perfect woman growing up. There had been no transition between innocence and lust, no time to figure out what he wanted or who he wanted to be with before he was given too many options and expected to take them all. He’d never been given time to dream or hope or wonder—until now.
With Andi.
Because she was the exact kind of woman he would’ve dreamt about, if he’d ever thought he could, the kind of woman he would’ve hoped to someday sate and hold tight. He wouldn’t have known it before he’d met her, that such a small creature could control him, and yet now that he did, he needed her, and as she rutted against him, her teeth creasing the leather belt as she tried to moan around it, he knew she needed him.
His hand in her hair with the belt wound around it tightened, and he thrust up, hard. “Is this what you want, princess?” he whispered harshly, taking her more roughly now. He licked the fingers of his free hand, pulled one of her nipples with them, and was rewarded with a shudder. “Did the thought of feeling me inside you make you have to touch yourself and come?” Her own hands ran across his chest, grabbing and pulling his shirt up to touch his skin as her hips kept rocking. “Did my princess have to rub her clit for me? Waiting for me? Because she couldn’t take it anymore?” Her brow rose, and she nodded, eyes wild while her hips still pulsed. He bowed his head forward, feeling the desperate urge to seat himself inside her and fucking claim her. “It’s because you need me in you,” he growled. He let go of the belt now and grabbed her hips and started to use her to fuck him, the belt’s metal buckle clinking with each thrust. She gave a muffled whine, and he knew there would be bruises of his fingertips on her thighs tomorrow morning just as he knew she wouldn’t mind because she was scorching him with her heat, her juices dripping down his sack, as she took his cock in again and again and he had to say it, he couldn’t stop himself. “You were meant for me, Andi. Me and no one else. And now that I’ve found you, you’re fucking mine.”
Her nostrils flared, and her breasts heaved as she breathed in deep, suddenly holding herself still over him.
“Do you hear me?” he whispered hoarsely. She nodded, eyes wide and incredulous, and he caught a hand in her hair again, belt forgotten. He thrust deep inside her, and she moaned. “You need me because you’re mine.”
Him being able to say it out loud made all of him ache, a full-body agony, one that could only be healed by release. He felt her blood racing inside and out, for all that she was still now, and then as he thrust up again, he felt her match him. He made a low sound, and then they were together.
He didn’t know how to explain it except her forehead was against his and her arms were around his neck and his hands were fucking her hips onto him and the metal of the belt chimed with each slick slap of her taking him right down to his balls. Each time he pinned her it felt like he was spinning the barrel of a gun, loading each chamber up, until everything was primed and then, oh, God, she was coming on him, her pussy somehow tighter right before her whole body shuddered and quaked, tears leaking from her eyes as she howled out, the sound muffled by the leather, and then he was coming too, his balls pulling tight as he shot round after round inside her. His cock twitched hard inside her tight little cunt with each load, as she rode him, he rode her, and they both died a little only to get to live more, or at least that was how it felt. And then he cradled her against his chest for what seemed like an eternity, relishing the skin on skin of it, the feel of her heart beating, the perfect sounds of her ragged breathing, until she pulled up and back, letting him slide out, and it felt like part of him was gone.
She still had the belt clenched between her teeth, and he reached up to pull it out, finding two perfect hemispheres of teeth marks upon it, and he purred, “Beautiful, princess,” before showing it to her. “If you ever get the chance to bite me, bite me like that. Like you want to hang on,” he said, then reached up to rub the corners of her jaw.
Andi felt his fingers touch the spot where she was sore and press in, and it was that familiar contact, albeit in an unfamiliar place, that brought her back to her body again.
She’d offered him her wrists first out of no small amount of guilt, and then it’d been a relief when he wanted to gag her, frankly, because then she wouldn’t be tempted to tell him anything about her uncle.
But as they’d gone on, it’d morphed into something more—something hotter than she could’ve imagined. The belt had made her just the right amount of helpless. Shameless, too, when she remembered rubbing herself so hard for him. There was something about how raw it felt, being controlled by him, by letting him be in charge, especially when she knew she had a secret. She wanted him to punish her a little for holding back, and then at the end when he had to have her, and he fucked her so hard, so desperately, saying mine, mine, mine, her thighs were still quivering as her mind spun.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, sagging against him.
His arms fell around her waist. “Good or bad?” he asked, nuzzling her hair with his chin.
She pushed back a little, looking around, as though her living room was unfamiliar. “As in, oh, God, that was insane.” Damian rumbled contentedly beneath her, and then she focused in on him. It was hard because, before her orgasm, every single piece of her had focused on that one shared goal like she’d come with him right down to her very cells, but then afterward, it was like she’d exploded out into a million pieces. She needed time to collect herself back up again.
She breathed him in, the light musk she associated with him, some combination of deodorant, man, and sweat, and wondered if that was what her uncle meant when he’d said she’d smelled like dragon. “When would I ever get the chance to bite you?” she wondered aloud.
“I don’t know. I might ask you to sometime. Or you might get really hungry.” He nipped at her shoulder, and she laughed.
“You’re joking, but there’s like a whole Netflix category about that kind of thing, I bet,” she said, blinking and rubbing her face. “Christ…Damian,” she said, still figuring herself out.
“Are you okay?” he asked kindly, giving her a worried look.
“That…was, just intense, was all.”
“How intense?” he asked her, continuing to be amused.
“Like, cult-leader intense.”
“How would you know?”
“Also, Netflix.”
He chuckled. She felt it start deep in his belly and then echo up through his chest, and he seemed so delighted at that moment, she wished she could take a photograph of him, to always have it with her and keep it for later.
“That’s a new one,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what all cult leaders say.” Andi ran a hand through her hair and tried to straighten herself and then realized what, precisely, Damian had done to her brand-new pajamas. “Why do you have to destroy all my nice things?” she asked with a fake pout.
“Because I like buying you new ones.” He swatted her ass gently, and she stood as he set himself back in his jeans. “And speaking of….” he began, looking down at the couch as he stood too.
“Absolute biohazard now. Yes, please.” Andi placed a solemn hand on her chest. “On behalf of Sammy and I, we have always wanted a purple velvet sectional.”
He laughed again. “I am completely willing to buy one, once you tell me what that is.”
Andi grinned helplessly. His happiness was contagious, and so many other things too: addictive, dangerous. “I’ll find one online and send it to you,” she said, shimmying her pajama bottoms down.
“Aww,” he complained quietly.
“What?” she asked, kicking them off and sweeping them up in hand.
“I was looking forward to eating you out through that hole.”
“Damian!” she quietly hissed in her tiny living room, not all that far away from Sammy’s bedroom door, scandalized.
“What?” he asked, pretending to be innocent.
“You…that’s…kind of pervy!” she sputtered.
“Oh, yes, I’m the terrible, dirty, mean, pervy man who makes you come until you can’t breathe. It’s tragic, really,” he said, looking smug as he threaded his bitten belt back through its loops, and Andi realized he hadn’t offered her the belt in her mouth for her sake.
It’d been for his.
So that he could tell her all the things he wanted to, without any repercussions—so there’d be no possible way she could tell him he was being “mean” or moving too fast. She may have been high on endorphins, but she’d heard every word as he’d sworn he needed her and she needed him, and she’d seen the look on his face as he’d said them. Andi didn’t believe in soul mates or anything like that, and life was far too complicated to think that you were going to bump into the one person out of seven billion who was your meant-to-be, come the fuck on—but if she wasn’t meant to be with him when he could make her feel like that, for at least a little while, who the hell was runner up?
Andi tilted her head and took off her pajama top, so she was standing naked in front of him, and then held up one hand to count off the fingers on it. “Terrible, dirty, mean, perverted, boyfriend,” she announced, upon reaching her thumb, and his face lit up from within. He beamed at her, and then he dodged around her, walking quickly down the short hall to her bedroom. “Where are you going?” she quietly whispered after him.
“To go rip access holes in all of your pants now,” he whispered back.
She picked up a couch cushion and threw it down the hall at him.
Through some superhuman effort after Andi cleaned up and Damian stripped, they got nakedly into bed and into a snuggling position without having sex again. She was proud of herself for turning her phone all the way off, seeing as the only people she cared about were currently under the same roof, but she understood why Damian had to leave his on, putting it carefully beside him on a nightstand before returning his attention to her. She sank into the sheets beside him, they were made of the same stuff her former pajamas were and pulled her hair through the strap of her nightshift-nurse-regulation blindfold.
“For the record, this is a sleeping blindfold for me, not a sexy time one. I’m embarrassed to say we need to stop for tonight,” she admitted once it was on her forehead, and she was in his arms.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think anything left in me can top what we just did, and Damian, I’m so fucking sore—like, good sore—but still—”
“No, I mean, why’re you embarrassed?” he asked. He shifted to lay beside her, holding her gently, softly stroking her elbow with his fingers.
She flushed. “I don’t know. I’m not a tap out kind of girl. And, honestly, I’m not all that used to setting good boundaries and having them respected.”
He tilted his head toward hers, rubbing her temple with his lightly bristled chin. “Isn’t that what relationships are supposed to be about?”
“Yeah, call me back after you’ve had a few,” she said and stuck her tongue out before pulling the blindfold down and snuggling in.
“Or maybe I won’t have to.” She could hear the hope in his voice.
“Oh my God, you are such a relationship virgin.” She reached up and put her hand over his mouth to close it. “It’s okay, I thought I would marry my high school boyfriend too.”
He licked her palm, and she yanked her hand back with a yip. “I’m thirty-eight, Andi; it’s a little different,” he said.
“Mmmph. I’m almost twenty-eight, and I’m very, very jaded.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Andi said, tempted to leave it at that, but then figured she might as well take him at face value. She leaned back and pushed her blindfold up. “Because I’ve put out and then been ghosted. I’ve been ghosted without putting out. I dated one guy for eight months and even met his parents, and then he dumped me right before he suddenly became wealthy, and I’ve had a ton of guys try to go out with me because they hope that because I’m Asian, I’ll be meek,” and at that, she felt Damian snort beneath her. “I know, right? But when I started dating, it took a while to figure that shit out. I’m not an anime character…I’m not even Japanese!” She groaned and thumped her head against his chest. “And that’s not even counting all the legitimately pervy guys who’ve followed me down streets or off the bus or whatever just…hoping.” She shuddered, and Damian was very quiet in response. “Don’t get any ideas or go off killing anyone,” she warned him.
“I would never tell you about it. It’s just that the streets around you would suddenly become littered with corpses,” he said, and she wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking.
“Officially, I’m a nurse, so don’t joke about killing people. But unofficially, yes, please,” she said. She made to reach for her blindfold again and then took a detour, looking up at him. “Okay, so how the hell do you get to thirty-eight without even trying this before? Was it because of your fucked-up childhood?”
“You could say that.” He paused, apparently considering. “When I began…well, where I began,” he started, and she felt him searching for words.
“You don’t have to if it’s too hard,” she told him, spreading a hand out on his broad chest. He caught it in his own.
“It’s just very different from your own is all. I was a prince, so the normal rules of Realms society didn’t apply to me.”
“Because your parents wanted to marry you off to other royal types?”
He shook his head. “No. They always knew I was too headstrong. And while they would’ve appreciated me being cooperative, that’s just not how it works. Because both of us…have to agree.”
Andi realized he was talking about his dragon again. She turned in his arms, so her chin was on his chest, and her belly was on the mattress. “I take it that doesn’t happen often?”
His golden eyes gazed down at her. “It has never happened before.”
“But, you’ve had sex before.”
“Countless times.”
Her eyes widened. “Hmmm, maybe try counting? For me?”
“I honestly don’t think I could. I said countless for a reason,” he said, giving her a rueful smile, and she remembered all the images of him online with a different girl on his arm each weekend.
“Well,” she swallowed. “I guess that does explain why you’re so good at it.”
“Thank you,” he said simply. “In any case, though, Andi, none of those experiences compare to even one minute with you.”
“Because you both agree. On me.” She bit her lips and thought a moment. “What did he think when you were with all those other women?”
“We were passing the time. Who doesn’t want to feel some pleasure? And I had more opportunities than most.” Damian shrugged. “He’s a predator. We both were, I suppose. We enjoyed the chase. So, you could say he—we—appreciated those women in the way a wolf appreciates a rabbit. Without thought, out of habit.”
“And now?” Andi asked.
He looked past her, his eyes unfocused as he saw or spoke to something deep inside. “We like you wolf to wolf.” His eyes brightened again on her. “As much as you infuriate me sometimes, Andi, and as human as you are…there’s something fierce and sharp in you, princess.” He inhaled deeply, studying her. “You make me feel like a little boy playing with a pretty knife. I don’t even care if you cut me. The risk is worth the reward.”
She flushed again, only this time with shame. He was in too deep. Her going to see her uncle without telling him was definitely going to cut him. But she had to, no matter what it was they were to each other. How could she secure her future if she didn’t understand her past? And if she found out anything she could use to protect Damian….
She reached up and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, before twisting to regain her former position at his side. “Thank you, I think.”
“It’s a compliment. Knives are sexy,” he said, pulling her close.
“Says the man who doesn’t cook,” she teased.
“I don’t use them in the kitchen.” He leaned over to kiss the crown of her head and tugged her blindfold down for her.