This Won't Work

Ex-Boyfriend

"I only call you when it's half past five
The only time that I'll be by your side
I only love it when you touch me, not feel me"

- The Weeknd

She had claimed that her feet hurt and when Damien suggested carrying her, she didn't want to disagree. Now, Elana's legs tightened around his waist as he struggled to open the door to his room.

She was supposed to be heading to her own room but coincidentally forgot where she'd put her card. So instead of going through the trouble Damien took her to his own room.

She was gently placed on the bed. The bed he's been sleeping in.

The sheets smelled purely of him. It awoke something in the pit of Elana's stomach. She sat up, setting her arms behind her and leaning back.

Damien removed the suit jacket which has been constricting him the whole day. His muscles were visible beneath his shirt and Elana licked her lips at the sight.

Damien was known for speaking his mind. He was blunt and didn't care about anybody's opinion. He could say something right now that drunk Elana should not be hearing. So when he heard her mumble something close to a moan, he bit his tongue to stop his thoughts from taking over.

"Damien?" Her voice was sensual and he didn't know if she meant it to be or not.

He didn't dare to look at her until now and damn. Her dress had scrunched up above her knees, one strap hung off her shoulder. Her hair was disheveled but it made her look so good.

He sighed. "Yeah?" His dress shoes made a thump on the floor when he removed them.

"You look really good right now,"

Sweat prickled the back of his neck. His heart pounded against his chest. What the fuck was going on?

"Like really good," she rolled onto her stomach and Damien's eyes immediately went to the hill of her ass. A teasing smile pulled at her lips.

Fucking tease.

"Like-" she inhaled. Exhaled- "good enough to make me wet,"

She was really testing him and Damien didn't know if he could keep it up. His dick pressed against his pants.

She brushed her hair onto one side of her head. "Mm, Damien,"

He sat on the opposite side of the bed, purposely looking at the wall instead of her.

"Can you fuck me?"

God damnit.

"Elana, you're drunk."

"So? You never hold back."

"Yeah, well, it's different when you're drunk." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Please,"

"Go to sleep."

"Damien-"

"Didn't you say you were tired?"

"I'm letting you!"

Damien gripped the sheets beside him. His jaw clenched.

He turned back and saw her precious face. Her pleading eyes. Her sexy state. "Fuck, Elana," audible irritation.

"I love when you say my name like that."

He climbed on top of the bed and Elana rolled onto her back. She spread her legs, letting him rest between them, his arms on either side of her head. He looked down at her hungry eyes, at her lip between her teeth.