The Stone Warriors: Damian (26 page)

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Authors: D. B. Reynolds

BOOK: The Stone Warriors: Damian
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Lilia made a wordless sound of agreement. “I’ll dig into it and let you know what I find. Shall I get some of the other hunters moving in your direction? Terrell is already on his way back here; I could reroute him to you. And Carmen’s cooling her heels in New York, waiting on customs. She’d jump at the chance to get in on some real action.”

Casey thought about her fellow hunters and what they could bring to the game, but decided against it for now. “No,” she said. “I think this one’s going to require more stealth than firepower. Besides, if it comes to actual fighting, Damian’s all the army I need.”

“Is he?” Lilia purred.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll meet him soon enough. Look, the weather is keeping us here tonight, but we’ll be on the road tomorrow. I’ll call Nick, but he never answers his phone. So if you talk to him first, let him know what’s up.”

“I will, but I don’t think he’ll need it. He’s following you pretty closely on this one. Damian’s important to him.”

“I know,” she said quietly, thinking to herself that Damian was important to more than just Nick. “See what you can find out about the safe houses, okay? And get back to me either way.”

“I’ll do that, darling. You take care.”

The dead air told Casey that her friend had disconnected, so she did the same, noting that her cell phone battery was down to less than fifty percent. She was bent over, digging out her charger when someone knocked on the door. Figuring it was room service, she started for the door, but Damian got there first. Dressed in nothing but a pair of the black boxer briefs she’d bought for him—she guessed he’d kept at least one pair—he stepped out of the dressing area near the bathroom and pulled the door open without even checking the peephole.

“Damian,” she cautioned, but it was too late. Frankly though, her warning wasn’t necessary, since the unmistakable scent of hamburger and fries hit her the minute the door opened.

“Well, hi there.” The voice was young and female, and plainly interested in a hell of a lot more than a good tip. Casey peered around Damian to find a young woman who looked no more than sixteen years old. But that didn’t stop her from gawking at a half-naked Damian. Casey stepped between him and the perky teenager. “I’ve got this,” she said, shooing him away from the door.

The young woman—really little more than a girl—shifted her reluctant attention to Casey. “Oh, hi,” she said, eyeing Casey’s shapeless outfit with an expression just short of a snicker. “You ordered food?” She gestured to the tray of covered dishes on a cart next to her.

“I’ll take that,” Damian said, pushing past Casey and lifting the heavy tray like it weighed nothing. And coincidentally flexing a few muscles, much to the delight of the delivery girl, whose eyes followed his every move.

Casey half-closed the door and stepped primly into the opening to block the girl’s view of Damian carrying the tray into the room. “You need me to sign something?”

“Yeah,” the teen said. “Or he could.”

Casey narrowed her eyes at the girl, and grabbed the check, signing it quickly and adding a generous tip, just to prove she wasn’t threatened by a ponytailed teenager. “Thanks,” she said, before all but slamming the door in her face. Because, really, the girl had just been rude the way she’d been eyeing Damian. He wasn’t some piece of meat. She turned around to find him grinning at her.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, and busied herself with finding her charger and plugging in her phone. But when she turned back, he was still smiling. “What?” she demanded.

His grin widened. “You’re jealous.”

“Hardly. Are you going to eat like that?”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, thankfully letting the jealousy issue drop. “Does it bother you if I wear this?”

“Not at all,” she lied, and started unloading their food onto the small table.

Without warning, his arms came around her, his heat plastered against her back. How did he keep doing that? Moving so quickly and so silently?

“Are
you
cold, Cassandra?” He slipped a hand under her sweatshirt and flattened his palm against her bare skin. She was suddenly sweating.

“I was,” she whispered. “Do you want—?” She sucked in a breath as his hand glided downward, past the loose waistband of her ratty sweats, his fingers barely skimming beneath the elastic band of the pink panties he’d picked out.

“Do I want?” he murmured. “Yes.”

Casey leaned against his powerful body, sucked into his heat, moving without conscious thought to get closer. She’d missed him, missed this. They’d been together for only two days, and apart for nearly that long, but he’d gotten beneath her skin somehow. She’d never cared much about any of the guys she’d dated, or, even less, hooked up with. They were convenient, nothing more. But not Damian. He was definitely more.

“Damian,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke the back of his neck, twisting her fingers in his long hair.

His arms surrounded her, his hands coming up to squeeze her breasts gently, weighing them in his big hands, the callused palms of a swordsman rough against her soft skin, rolling over her nipples until they were tight peaks of hunger, begging for attention. She arched her back, wanting more. Needing more. She felt sexual and feminine, powerful and needy at the same time. Damian flattened his hand against her belly, controlling her, holding her in place as he ground his cock against her ass. His long, hard, very aroused cock. She moaned at this evidence of his desire, proof that his hunger, his
need
matched her own.

Her sweats slipped off her hips, the worn elastic no match for the friction of Damian’s hard body rubbing against her. Straining against him, she turned her head, wanting his mouth. He kissed her briefly, a ravenous, biting kiss, his tongue stabbing in her mouth, in and out, teeth closing over her lip in a not-so-gentle bite. Strong fingers fisted in her hair, tugging her head back, as he trailed his tongue along the line of her jaw, closing his mouth over the vulnerable pulse point of her neck, sucking hard. She cried out, feeling every tug of his lips against her throat as if he was kissing her breasts, her belly, her clit. Her pussy clenched in sudden need and she sobbed his name. “Damian.”

“Let go, baby,” he murmured. “You can let go. I’ve got you.” Holding her tightly against his body, he turned to the tall, old-fashioned bed and bent her over until she was braced on the soft mattress, her ass high and crushed against his cock. He swore quietly and slipped a finger under the sodden silk of her panties, stroking her once before sliding his finger into her pussy. “Cassandra,” he murmured almost reverently. “You’re so wet. So fucking wet for me.”

She could only moan softly, her face buried in her arms as he fucked her with his rough finger, adding a second that stretched her tender tissues. She’d never liked this position with anyone else. She’d felt trapped, humiliated. But the only thing she felt right now was hotter, wetter, more excited than she’d ever been. Wanting more, she braced herself on one arm and reached for her panties with the other, tearing the delicate silk as she struggled to yank them over her hips.

But Damian was having none of it. He grabbed her hand and pressed it back to the bed over her head, holding it there as he growled, “Uh-uh, sweetheart. That pussy is mine.”

Casey growled in turn, wiggling her ass. “Then fuck me, damn it.”

Damian only laughed, the sound coming out in a hissed curse as he slowly, so fucking slowly, dragged her panties down her thighs and left them there, trapping her legs together. She felt the touch of soft cotton on her bare ass, the scrape of his hand as he pushed his briefs aside. The hot, silken rod of his cock brushed against her ass, and then he took hold of himself, dragging the tip of his penis through the creamy wetness of her pussy before pushing through her swollen folds, and entering her. There was no hesitation, no slow build-up, no gentleness. His hips flexed and he filled her in a single, forceful thrust, her inner tissues stretching around him, even as they welcomed the intrusion, caressing his hard length. He pulled back once, never leaving her body, and then he stilled, letting her adjust to his size. He made every inch of her feel wanted, claimed, cherished.

“Okay?” he murmured, then slipped a hand around her hips and between her thighs, teasing her clit, circling but never touching, building the hunger, the raw need until she thought she’d scream. Wanting more, wanting him to know she could
take
more, she lifted her hips higher, spreading her thighs as much as she could in lewd invitation. “Damn it, Cassandra,” he hissed and began fucking her, one thumb on her clit, the other hand gripping her hip, holding her in place as he pounded into her, making her body jolt with every thrust.

She moaned, her face buried in her arms, desperate for release, craving more—more of his touch, more of his cock driving into her liquid heat. He always made her feel like a raw virgin, as if she’d never fucked before, never felt the incredible sensation humming along her nerves, her pussy clenching around him over and over again. She writhed on the edge of climax, refusing to tip over, to surrender to the sensual feast of having his body against hers, inside hers.

Without warning, he pulled her upright, her back to his chest, as he surrounded her with his arms, caressing her, sparking so many sensations, emotions. The orgasm slammed into her without warning, taking her from a sweet swell of overwhelming pleasure to a crashing wave of passion that threatened to tear her apart. She thrashed in his arms, her nails digging in, blood trailing over his skin as he hissed his pleasure, fucking her through her climax, his grip almost punishing as he held her in place, his cock pounding into her from behind. And then it was Damian who was coming, a hot rush of liquid heat pouring into her body, his hips pumping, until finally with a soft grunt, he slowly stilled and wrapped his arms around her as they both collapsed onto the bed.

Casey closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable rejection, for him to realize what he’d done and walk away, leaving her cold, wet and alone. But it never happened. Tears leaked from beneath her eyelids as Damian curled his body around her, kissing her neck, tasting the sweat on her skin as he bit her jaw gently.

“Cassandra?” he said quietly, noticing her tears. She flushed with embarrassment.

“I didn’t think . . .” She sucked in a breath for courage. “I thought you’d never want me after . . . after what I said.”

“You were angry. We both were. Things were said—”

“It’s not easy for me,” she said in a rush, before she could change her mind. “None of this.”

“I’ll tell you a secret, sweetheart. It’s not easy for anyone.”

She nodded, embarrassed, but relieved at the same time. He wasn’t making a big deal out of it, wasn’t demanding she bare her soul to reveal the soft underbelly of who she was. She placed her arms over his where they circled her waist, frowning when her hands encountered the raw furrowed flesh she’d left there, the sticky blood.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, horrified at what she’d done. “Your poor arms!”

But he only chuckled, sounding more arrogant than wounded. “I’ll heal,” he assured her. “I like that I can drive you to such violence.”

That only reminded her of her cruel outburst, spoken from the depths of a rare anger. “I’m not usually a violent person,” she protested weakly.

“Exactly,” he said, and there was no doubting the smugness in that single word.

The attitude was so very
Damian.
It made her smile at last, and she sighed her own satisfaction, lying there in the circle of his arms, listening to the silence outside their hotel room, the occasional slam of a door down the hall. And then her stomach rumbled loudly.

“We need to feed you,” he murmured in his deep, sexy voice, his hand slipping down between her thighs, rubbing her clit idly, skimming through the cream of her orgasm. He chuckled arrogantly when her pussy clenched and she jerked against him.

Casey reached up and yanked his hair. “No teasing.”

His only answer was a thrust of his hips against her ass, his thick cock sliding easily through the swollen folds of her soaking wet pussy and deep into her body. “Does that feel like I’m teasing, Cassandra?” he asked. And her entire body tightened.

She moaned, pushing her ass against him in demand, protesting when he pulled out, crying out her relief when he rolled her to her back and spread her legs, slipping between her thighs and plunging his cock deep into her.

“I want to see your face,” he murmured, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth. “I want to watch you come.”

She wrapped both arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Damian,” she whispered, overcome by the emotion of the moment.

“Wrap those beautiful legs around me,” he growled, as he fucked her slow and easy, gliding on the juices of her climax, her breasts crushed against his chest.

Casey squeezed him between her thighs, relishing the scrape of her nipples through the rough hair on his chest, the tender skin of her thighs as his hips flexed, driving himself in and out of her pussy. She held him close, loving the weight of him crushing her into the mattress, the hard press of his muscles as he grew closer to climaxing, every thrust gaining urgency. It made her feel feminine and powerful to know this beautiful man could be so turned on by her, so driven to come not once, but twice.

Her own arousal snuck up on her, her pussy tingling, nerves alive and singing with desire. Her inner muscles contracted suddenly, squeezing his cock, and her gasp of surprise became a tortured groan when Damian grabbed her ass in both hands and lifted her higher, changing the angle of his penetration so he could go deeper, harder, his balls slapping her ass with every thrust.

Casey struggled to breathe as her climax built, her heart galloping in her chest, crushing her lungs as the orgasm crashed over her. She came hard, crying out as her sex clenched tightly, moaning when his cock bucked inside her and he crashed over the edge with her, his orgasm filling her with heat as they clung together, until finally they collapsed, shivering in the cool air. Damian reached down and pulled the sheet up over their sweat-soaked bodies.

They lay there a long time, exhausted, hearts pounding in rhythm, until Casey finally sighed. “The burgers are probably cold,” she said woefully, hungrier than ever. Sex with Damian burned a lot of calories. “Do you think they’d bring us new ones?”

Damian was stroking his hand up and down her back. It was big and warm and soothing, and if she hadn’t been so hungry, she’d have fallen asleep.

“I’m sure Bonnie won’t mind,” he murmured.

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