Confessions of a Wanton

14 Darkness

🎶 Demons : Imagine Dragons 🎶

I lay with Damien on the couch, neither of us talking, basking in each others warmth. Slowly trailing our fingers over each other after we'd dried off. We'd showered together, both insatiable, the tattoo on his ass is very similar to my Army tattoo but I'd been much more interested in his front, not bothering to read much more into it as I'd gotten a much better look at his wolf tattoo.

I didn't feel the need to brush my teeth after either.

His wolf, Black and white, shading done phenomenally. It did look slightly out of place as he had that V muscle that men get when they're physically fit to the point of being a woman's proverbial wet dream.

Women can have the muscled V too, mines a little bit smaller, not as prominent as his, harder to maintain that muscle for ladies though. Our bodies want to carry fat. Such bullshit.

His muscle seemed to make the wolf look alive, I stroke a finger over it lovingly. Careful not to touch his half-erect yet twitching member. I just want to lay like this for a while. I don't want to tease.

But I still have questions. So many damn questions.

He chucked a finger under my chin, making me look up at him. He had that expression again. The peaceful one. The one that made everything seem ok.

My breath hitched. I reached up my hand to cup his face. Eyes memorizing every detail of his rugged demeanor. Not wanting to look away, he looked like a fallen angel, one who'd gone on a bender and is just sobering up. Like he'd finally found a reason to live. Maybe I'm projecting. I think I've finally found mine.

"Damn, woman, when you look at me like that, I cant think." He chuckled. Nuzzling his nose into my hair. I'd left it loose. Not caring how it dried. It's long and thick so it will take hours to dry without using a blow dryer. Not quite to my ass in length but close. He ran his fingers through the damp tendrils, wiggling his fingers against the small tangles. Working them out. Magic fingers indeed.

"So fucking beautiful." He murmured. Staring down at me. Hand in my hair.

I know this. It's not ego, it's simple deduction. My face is symmetrical. My eyes luminous and the color of the ocean. My body an hourglass, even without the added benefit of toned muscles. I have them though. I can't not work out. I would go crazy. I've been told by most everyone I've met how beautiful I am. Some kindly, some jealously.

People stopping in the grocery store to watch me walk by kind of pretty. People buying me drinks at a bar kinda hot. Teens dropping weights at the gym kinda looks. This man telling me though... makes my heart flutter. I know he sees more than what's on the surface. He knows the ugly truth about me, and still finds me beautiful.

I don't deserve this man.

"Tsk, don't do that." I blink up at him, unsure what he means.

"You can do whatever you want with me sugar-tits, just please don't be sad." He kissed my forehead, using my words from earlier with an annoying twist.

"Why sugar-tits?" I ask incredulous. "Don't call me that either." I slapped his chest lightly.

He laughed. "That's better." He wrapped his arms around me crushing me in a hug as I pretended to try to get away. I laughed, enjoying the feel of him against me. He's so warm.

"I have so many questions Damien." I said after a while. He sighed. I felt bad for ruining the playful mood, but I need to know what I'm up against.

"I know. But first, I need you to know something. It's very important." He traces the outline of my face with his pointer finger before trailing down my neck, circling that one spot that made me feel so damn good.