“What can’t you do, Clara?” he asked with all the deliberate weight of an attorney. He could feel the goose bumps rise on the back of her hand as he asked this.
She pulled her hand away from him and clutched it to her chest. She looked deep into the sharp expression on his face, the straight brow, the piercing eyes, the firm lips she had been savouring with her own just moments before. Clara looked deep and shuddered at what she saw.
“Please, Damon, go,” she said and turned her back to him.
She was hoping she would feel him as he walked by her, towards the closet to get his jacket then out the door. Hoping she wouldn’t have to look into that all too determined face of his. Hoping she could resist grabbing him by the arm and puling him back to her. Instead, she closed her eyes and lowered her head when she felt his warm body move up behind her.
Damon stood there her back to him, breathing deeply, inhaling her intoxicating smell. He wanted her and he was going to have her, but he would play this out for the pure pleasure of the moment. He placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders and then kissed the back of her head.
“You don’t want me to go,” he whispered.
“Yes…yes I do,” she said also in a hushed voice, “This is wrong.”
“What’s so wrong about it?” he continued. He brushed the hair away from the side of her neck and kissed her choker.
“It…I – uh – I shouldn’t be doing…this,” her voice wavered. She gulped and tilted her head slightly.
He kissed her ear, sucking on the lobe, then whispered, “Clara…”
“Uh….yes?”
“You know me, right?” he said again kissing her neck, his right hand moving from her shoulder to the front of her neck. He stroked her soft choker.
“Wh-what? Yes…yes, Damon.”
“Do you like me?” he led her on, sliding his hand down her skin to the top of the collar of her shirt. He clutched her body close.
“I…like you Damon,” she said her eyes closing shut and her head rolling back.
His hand slipped under the collar, exploring and groping for the tender rounds of flesh hidden beneath her shirt. He thumbed the tops of her bosom while his palm cupped and delicately fondled her breasts tucked behind her bra. He could feel her chest tremble as he slid his hand under the cup of the bra, curling around the exquisite tenderness of her tit, squeezing her nipple between two fingers. Clara’s mouth hung open breathing hard as her head dropped.
“Do you trust me?” he said.
Clara was gasping for air now, trying to think straight. Deep within her, a voice continued to scream “Get out!” But closer to the surface, where she licked her trembling lips, where her neck was being caressed by a skilled and hungry mouth, where her breasts heaved upward, straining towards the strong hand that was indulging in their supple touch, a passionate sense of abandon clouded any voice that insisted she put a stop to this.
“I…,” she gasped, forcing the words out, “Yes…yes, I trust you Damon.”
She had opened up the gate. She knew it.
He pulled her close to him, her back against his chest. He pushed his crotch forward against her petite rear end, declaring his intentions for the evening. Clara gasped once more when she felt his hard cock press against her backside.
“I want to fuck you Clara,” he growled softly.
Was she really prepared for this?
Panicked, she spun around, placing her hands against his chest. His look was cool and assured. She stammered, “D-Damon, I-”
“Ah, ah, ah, Clara! Shhhh,” He cut her off again, kissing her passionately to silence her. He wasn’t going to let her think about this.
He pulled away from her lips and with an assured look whispered,”You owe me a wish, remember?”
Clara nodded her head slowly and silently.
Damon squinted and smiled, “So, why don’t you give me an extended tour of your bedroom again?”
Clara didn’t move, her face was flushed red, her eyes fixed and blank.
Still smiling he tilted his head and said knowingly, “Okay. Come on.”
Damon took her by the hand and walked towards the bedroom. The last thing she saw as she turned around to follow him was the book “Chosen Paths”, her gift to him, laying on the couch.
***********
Damon led her in before closing the door behind them. As far as they were concerned, the entire world was in that room at that moment. For Clara, specifically, the room seemed so very small now and the only things in it were Damon, and her bed.
Damon stood by the door and leaned his head back against it. He looked at his prize, her back to him yet again as she continued to rub her wrist. To him, this room represented the achievement of a night of focused thought and clarity. Not a thought about where this might lead in the future or what sort of relationship they could have came to mind. He was here now. She was here now. He wanted her here and now. Finally he moved from the door towards the young woman who stood nervously beside her bed.
Clara heard him come up behind her. She closed her eyes and her mouth moved as if whispering a prayer. For those few seconds she was by herself oblivious to him. But now he was inches away from her. She could smell him, feel his heat.
She only hoped that he would be gentle with her.
With a firm voice he said, “Turn around.”
Clara spun around slowly but smoothly on her feet. Damon had removed his sweater, his well defined chest now bare before her except for the crucifix pendant hanging from his neck. Startled by the starkness of the moment, she nearly crumpled backwards, but two strong hands grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her up against his chest. They kissed again the sounds of wet lustful kissed drifting room. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his pectorals. He was hungrier still, his adept tongue almost latching onto hers, pulling it into his mouth so that he could give it a long languid suck. And while at the moment he could think of nothing more pleasurable than the taste of her saliva slicked tongue, he was excited to know that in moments he would be sampling just as fine if not tastier fruits.
His hands were already venturing to other areas of Clara’s slender body. Across her back, down to her lean, slim waistline, finally to her firm ripe bottom. He slipped his hands under her skirt to cop a fine feel of her smooth ass. Clara broke away momentarily from the kiss for a quick gasping breath. Damon just as quickly pulled his hands out from underneath her skirt. All the better to just remove it than work around it.
He slowly pulled the rear zipper of the skirt down. With each new situation, Clara wanted to draw the line, to say stop, to stop this impossible moment. But even before she felt her skirt drop down her legs to the floor, she knew this couldn’t be stopped. She saw it in his eyes. Damon had chosen his path for this evening. He wouldn’t be stopped.
His hands continued to peel off her clothing. As soon as the skirt fell they slid back up along her waist to her front, pushing up on her chest before nestling themselves along the collar of her shirt. He pushed her back, breaking the kiss. She felt his hard knuckles on her chest, as he took a firm grip of her collar.
“I’m sorry, Clara,” he said with a twitching smile, “I was just dreaming all day about doing this.”
Before she could protest he tore her shirt apart at the collar, the soft material easily shredding down the neck line clean through the bottom. Her gawking startled expression and the sight of two succulent breasts peaking out from behind her bra pushed his own arousal to new heights and suddenly he knew he wasn’t certain himself how gentle he would be with her tonight.
“Take off the shirt,” he ordered her.
Composing herself slightly, Clara slipped the tattered shirt of her shoulders and let it drop to the floor beside her skirt, all the while he gave her a long lingering look. She shuddered, watching as Damon’s actions intensified, his demeanour shifting from calm and tender to primal and rough.
He wagged his finger and nodded, “Let down your hair.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she looked downward as she reached for the bun behind her head. As each pin was removed, more of her honey brown hair dropped down past her neck and fell across her face. Clara trembled and let the pins simply drop to the floor.
He raised a hand and dragged it back and forth across her chest above her soft bosom. Aside from the goose bumps, she was as smooth as silk.
Again they locked lips and meshed tongues. His hands continued to work, locating the clasp of her bra in the back. Clara heard a soft snap as the clasp was undone. Damon tugged the straps off her shoulders and pulled the bra off. Still holding it, he moved his mouth down to her chest. Clara now felt his lips on her unsoiled bosom, her smallish but exquisitely sloping tits stood firm for him. She tingled when she felt something wet, with a texture both slick and rough, drag around her nipple. His tongue flicked like a whip at her tips. Then his mouth sucked on them until the pinkish nipples became hard and pointed. He could taste her perfume on them.
“I guess you like that Clara?” he asked looking up.
“Damon…” and a swallow was all she could muster before she realized he wasn’t done. His mouth moved away from slurping and enjoying the taste of her tits. It nipped and kissed at her smooth white belly which flinched at his lustful touches. He hooked her panties with his fingers and tugged them downward, sliding them over her thighs, past her knees, down her calves. He lifted each foot as he took them off and tossed them onto her dresser.
Now all she wore was her choker.
His right hand slipped between her legs and cupped the trim soft mound it found there. He rubbed it, pushing past the strands of hair to the velvety lips buried there. He looked up at Clara. As he massaged her pussy she stared up high on the wall, chewing her lower lip.
Clara felt his rough finger push against her, run up and down her slit. She tried to steady herself on her feet, putting her hands on his shoulders.
Again his mouth soon followed where his hands had been. He felt her hand on his head, pushing it away. She said, “No…Damon. Please don-ahnn!”
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