DAMIEN: Book 2 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

15:

I never ended up going to work, nor did I exactly get a break since Gufo dragged me to the medical ward again to examine if me and the baby are okay- which we are. He then took me back the rooms and sat me down on the settee to prepare me dinner, whilst I watched television and rested, which is where I am now. Only my eyes aren't watching the television, but the Greek god in the kitchen preparing spaghetti and meatballs; it would be hot if he didn't look utterly confused on what he was doing.

"Do you need a hand?" I ask, preparing to get up.

"No! Nope, I'm perfectly capable of cooking thank you very much," he grumbles, pointing a finger at me whilst I sign and plop back down. "Cook the sauce? Why the heck do I need to cook the sauce?"

"So it heats up," I say in a duh tone. "You wouldn't feed me cold sauce now, would you?"

"Depends if it's from the pot or from my d—"

"Damien!" I interrupt, cheeks flaring. Gosh why do I easily blush? "You're disgusting."

"And you're beautiful, hence why we make the perfect couple. Ying and Yang, or like Thanos with the whole snap thing," he clicks his fingers for emphasis.

My brow raises, "So I'm going to kill you?"

"Huh? Wait- no. I mean as in the perfect halves..."

I shake my head, "I don't think you understood the movie."

"Eh, I fell asleep anyway," he shrugs half assed.

I gasp and cover my mouth in 'shock', "You dislike Marvel?"

"It's a bit boring, I prefer DC mainly 'cause it's darker and more gothic," he justifies proudly, even though what he just said is the opposite of his personality.

"No, no, no," I repeat, muttering under my breath as I stand up. "This can't work. I-I'm sorry but I can't be with you if you like shitty DC and I'm here bathing in the glory of Marvel. Please tell me you at least cried when Tony died!"

He gives me a blank stare as he slowly stirs the pot, heater on.

"Damien!"

"What?" He questions. "I saw it coming, it's a shame Black Widow died though, she was the whole reason why I watched Marvel films. Hot damn! Do you see her a—" I glare at him "—awesome fighting skills? The way she did that think around that dude with the metal arm. I bet she'd be able to take on Thanks by herself."

If he only knew, "Nice save. You might have not had balls tomorrow."

He dramatically sighs and nods his head, "Phew. It'd be a shame though since our baby wouldn't have any siblings."

I blink once. Twice. Three times, "Huh?"

"I didn't tell you?" He asks, finishing up cooking. "Oh yeah, I'd love to have more children. Not straight after... but once we're more serious I think. Maybe long term commitment with three kids."

I go quiet, staring at him with wide eyes. My mind processes things slowly, his words finally clicking. His cheeks surprisingly heat up and he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, "Please don't tell me you don't want more kids."

Finally, words escape my mouth, "No that's not it you idiot! You just confessed you want to be in a long term relationship!"

He shrugs, "Well, yeah, isn't it obvious? I'm suffering from blue balls, but I've not been complaining since I know you're not ready."

I give him a playful glare, "That's why you have a hand."

"So you're going to be comfortable with me wanking off right next to you?" A naughty glint flickers in his eyes as his brows wiggle. He rounds the island, like a predator, he slowly stalks towards me, steps sure and muscles seamlessly moving together like oiled machinery. I step back, winking teasingly despite my stomach doing somersaults and my heartbeat drastically increasing.

"I don't know what you mean, you're taking the settee."

He scoffs, "Like hell I am. I don't give up my things for anybody. Plus, how could you resist this art piece? Perfection before your very eyes."

"Don't like art," I shrug. "Always thought it was a waste of time."

"Then my parents will dislike you for offending their best creation."

I laugh and he lunges, pushing me onto the couch and pinning me with his thighs. He pins my hands above my head and with his other hand, lightly dances across my rib cage. Fucking dickhead. I begin to squeal and squirm beneath his grasp, "Ow! Ow! Bruising dickhead! Bruising!"

His eyes widen and he haunts, "Shit, sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you need water?"

I croak our a laugh and shake my head, "No, just be gentle. I'm pregnant and fragile remember, you can't be doing me like that."

"Shit, yeah, yeah, sorry," he mumbles more to himself. He stares at me, meeting my eyes with his deep green ones. I exhale slowly and the mood swiftly changes from innocence to intense. I bite my lip gently as his eyes become clear, then clouded with an unclear emotion; his gaze flickers to my mouth and back up again, he swallows. "Can I... can I kiss you?"

My breathing halts and my heart skips a beat. I flicked my gaze down to his full lips and can't seem to say anything but: "Yes."

Hesitantly, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, shooting sparks through my skin and causing my nerves to become alive with electricity. My eyelids droop shoot as his mouth moulds against mind, perfectly shaped for each other as he begins to move them expertly and brilliantly. Nipping my bottom lip, I gasp and he takes that as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside. We fight for dominance, his hands roam my body like Dora with her map, exploring and testing new things, therefore learning what makes me react. He grounds against me, his hardness pressing into me and sending heavenly pulses through my body. I moan, a deep and heavy moan that causes him to apply more pressure and passion.

I run my fingers through his silky hair, loving the way it feels between my digits; I tug. Growling, he digs his fingers into my hips before pulling me towards him, eagerly trying to find more contact between our clothed bodies. I brush my hand over his shoulders, traveling down where the hem of his shirt meets his jeans. I tug, wanting, yearning, needing.

He gets the hint and pulls back, using a hand to pull his shirt off in a fluid motion and throw it to the other side of the room. I'm met with a tanned six pack that I want to do things to, defined and toned he looks like a sex god sent down to bless me. Usually he'd comment something, anything to make me blush- strangely he remains serious and lustful as he connects our lips together once again.

Beep, beep! Beep, beep! Beep, beep!"

We leap apart like two teens getting caught as our attentions instantly get drawn to the sudden cloud of smoke forming from the kitchen. He jumps into action and rushes to clear up his forgotten monstrosity whilst I lean back, running a shaky hand through my hair.