Nobody's Perfect (61 page)

She smiled. "I'm tired of staying within my comfort zone."

Dios
, what did she have in mind?

She got to her feet. "Lie down."

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she'd instructed, not sure getting horizontal at the moment was a good thing. She stared at his erection straining against his briefs. He thought she might be frightened off, but she walked around the bed, grabbed two pillows and tossed them to the bottom of the bed.

When she crawled onto the bed with him, she confused him by turning her side to him, but he liked the view of her cute ass encased in the tight pink shorts. He knew she wore no panties, which just made him harder. Chico went into another spasm.

Savannah looked at his stump and frowned. He felt exposed, having himself displayed to her like this. She looked up at him, assessing the situation on the ground…er, bed. The woman did seem to be on a mission, though.

"Scoot up on the pillows. You need to be sitting upright." As if remembering their roles, she smiled sweetly and added, "Sir…please." He gawked like a teenager, but didn't take his eyes off her as he followed her commands.

She looked down at his stump again, which rested in the middle of the mattress, and smiled. "Perfect."

He guessed she just wanted to have better access to his stump to continue the massage. Maybe her back was hurting her from kneeling on the floor. She still had scars from the beating, and probably would carry some for life, although he'd put the salves Marc had provided him with on her scars twice a day. At least some of the more superficial scars would fade.

Savannah stretched out lengthwise beside his lower body and laid her head on the pillows she'd placed at the foot of the bed.

She took a deep breath and lifted his leg in the air, then brought it down on top of her body, his stump nestled between her breasts. What the fuck was she trying to do to him? He wasn't a fucking eunuch.

Cupping her breasts, she encased his stump tightly between her firm breasts and squeezed. His dick throbbed as if she'd just taken it between her breasts for a boob job.

Santa Madre de Dios.

She lifted her hips and his stump glided between her breasts. Developing a rhythm, she lowered and lifted her hips over and over. Chico bobbed, wanting his turn, too.
Dios
, Damián hoped he wouldn't cream right here and now.

No way was he going to stop her, even if he did embarrass himself.

Savannah's breathing grew more rapid with her exertions, which just left him hotter than holy hell.

This isn't about sex. This isn't about you. Tonight is about Savannah's healing.

He needed to stop her. Now.

"Stop,
Savita
. Look at me."

She stopped, but continued to hold his stump in the warm embrace of her breasts. Damián felt her heart beating against the back of his stump and calf, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath. He never could have planned for something like this to happen in a million years. She was going to kill him if she kept springing these surprises on him tonight, but he'd sure die one very, very happy man.

"Look. At. Me."

Her heart gave a little thump against him and he smiled at his power over her body's involuntary response. A lump grew in his throat.

His leg still resting on her chest, she lifted herself onto her elbows. Her cheeks were flushed and he saw the vulnerability in her eyes.

"I hope that wasn't too weird. I just got the idea at the spur of the moment. Thanks for not laughing at me…"

Her chin began to quiver, and he motioned with his fingers for her to come to him. She set his leg back on the bed, picked up her pillows, and tossed them to the spot beside his head. Still not sure he could speak past the lump in his throat, he opened his arms to her and Savannah stretched out beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

He cleared his throat. "That's the hottest…I mean sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. "You thought it was hot?" She blushed. Did Savannah Gentry just admit she'd gotten hot playing with his stump?

"Woman, you're killing me, but, yeah, that was hotter than a fucking firecracker."

She grinned. "I was just practicing."

His eyes opened wider.
Did
she have a stump fetish—or was she practicing for something else?
Don't be ridiculous. Savannah isn't giving you a boob job, so just fucking forget it.

Fuck
.

He needed to take back control of this scene and quick. At least they both still had the barrier of their underwear.
Dios
, but he wanted to go down on her pussy again in the worst way.

Chico bobbed against her hip and she looked at him with fear in her eyes at first. Then she smiled—a tremor in her lips, but she most definitely smiled.

What the fuck was he in for tonight with his princess slut?

* * *

I can do this…for Damián.

Pulling away from his strong, safe arms, she ventured farther into these uncharted waters. She kept her focus on his brown eyes, so warm and encouraging, but was unsure what to do next. That massage had worked out better than she'd expected. Could she go through with the rest of what she'd learned in the video?

"I'm not sure how to get started."

He pushed himself up, bracing on one elbow, and reached over with his free hand to tweak her nipple. She hissed at her body's response.

"
Bebé
, I'll do whatever you want me to. Start by giving me any hard limits here. You've gone OFP on me and…"

"OFP?"

"Sorry—an expression we use in the Corps. Means Own Fucking Plan. I think you're going to have to at least give me the FragO here."

"Sir, could you use plain English, please? I'm already in over my head with all this kink vocabulary."

He grinned. "It's not kink. Sorry for reverting to jargon all of the sudden. In the Marine Corps, a Frag Order—fragmentary order—contains five paragraphs that spell out very basically the details, objectives, and logistics of a mission. You're in charge now. Issue the Frag Order. Tell me how far I can go."

"I don't even know how far
I
can go."

"Then you'll use your slow-down or safeword, if you need to."

"For sex?"

"Hell, when my niece and nephew were young, my sister gave them a safeword so she'd know when the play wasn't play anymore."

"Teresa's mom is into this, too? Is it hereditary?"

"I have no fucking clue what my sister is into and don't plan to ask. But I don't think safewords are strictly the property of those in the kink community."

"Damián, I'm afraid I'll get you all worked up and leave you hanging if I safeword."

His mouth twitched as he fought a grin and her eyes opened wider when she realized what she'd said. Her face grew warmer.

"I can take care of myself. I've taken Chico in hand before."

Oh dear lord
. This conversation was getting more embarrassing by the minute. She glanced down at Chico's rigid length, barely contained by his briefs, and gulped. She was even less sure about taking this next step than before.

"I'm not sure how Chiquita feels about…"

"Chiquita?"

Her eyes darted up to Damián's puzzled face.
Had she said that aloud?

Own it, Savannah
. She held her chin higher. "Well, if you can have all these code words, so can I." She glanced away, then back at him. "I've never been comfortable saying pussy out loud, unless you make me. So, if I'm in charge of the plan tonight, then I'm going to call my…pussy 'Chiquita.'"

He chuckled. "
Bebé
, you can call her anything you like."

She relaxed. He was being very agreeable tonight, letting her explore and set her own pace. But how far could she go with him? "What if Chiquita's not a good fit for Chico." The words had barely left her lips before her eyes opened wider. "I mean, not a good match!"

Oh, God. Take me now.

He grinned and tweaked her nose. "You forget that Chico and Chiquita fit together just fine before."

Memories of the day in the beach cave with Damián flooded over her, leaving her feeling safe and warm.

"So again,
bebé
, now that you've gone OFP on me, you're going to have to give
me
some direction. I shared my original plan for tonight—and sex wasn't even on the scope. Chico is standing by and ready to carry out any mission you come up with. If that means going back to my original plan of holding you in my arms all night long, then no worries. I can tell you right now, we
are
going to get to that part of my original plan, eventually anyway."

"That's really all you planned to do?"

"Well, that and touch you. Like this."

He traced his finger lightly along her collar bone and her heart tripped over a few beats. Even though he hadn't touched them, her nipples became engorged. His gaze zeroed in on her breasts, igniting the peaks even more.

"Very pretty, princess."

The man must have sucked the oxygen out of the room, because she had to open her mouth to refill her lungs. His gaze moved to her mouth.

"This is unknown territory for me. I'd rather you take charge and if I need to stop or slow down, I'll use one of my safewords."

"Fair enough." His finger skimmed along her shoulder and over her bicep. When she expected him to move over to her nipple, he pulled her into his arms and continued touching her. Most of the scars on her back had healed, but he avoided the two deeper ones that probably would never go away completely, despite the efforts of the plastic surgeon.

Savannah felt an increasingly familiar zing to her clit. She hadn't told Damián how her body had been responding to his touch the last couple of weeks, as he'd tenderly applied her salves. She'd been confused by her body's reaction, and even more by how he'd left her wanting more of his touches. She just hadn't known how to ask for what she needed.

Damián made her feel precious. Honored. Healed.

He made her feel. Period.

She'd never thought about it before, but she'd been healing little by little with Damián as far back as December.

"I like cuddling."

"Me, too,
bebé
."

Savannah realized she was taking and not giving—again. She reached around his side to run her hand up and down his back. The muscles were hard as rocks.

Strong.

She knew he'd never use his strength to force her to do anything against her will. He wouldn't overpower her. She could submit to him consensually, but knew he would always maintain control of himself. If she used her safeword, he would stop immediately.

Safe.

Her hand trailed down the valley of his spine to the waistband of his shorts. She hesitated a moment, not sure she could take the next step.

"No hands below the waist,
querida
."

She pulled away from him and cocked her head.

"We've got all night,
Savita
, and we're taking this slow. To do that, you're going to have to keep your hands above my waist. That's my limit—until further notice."

"Oh." Some of her nervousness receded, knowing she wasn't under pressure to touch his—er, Chico—yet. "That sounds like a good plan, Sir."

He smiled at her, and her hand continued to stroke his back. Did her hands affect him the way his did her? The man's hands were seriously wicked. His focus was still on her shoulders, not exactly sexual, but her response was purely carnal. She wanted more.

"I thought the rule was no hands below the waist."

"It is,
querida
."

"Then why aren't you touching my breasts?"

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, frowning. "I didn't want to rush you."

"I'm a patient woman, Damián, but you're driving me crazy. You're taking it
too
slowly."

Damián's eyes narrowed and a slow smile curved his lips. He pressed her shoulder until she was lying on her back. Taking her hands by the wrists, he moved them up above her head and held them there. Her stomach flip-flopped as he took control of her body. She suddenly wanted his hands on every inch of her.

His face inched toward her face, and he captured her mouth, nibbling at her lower lip. He pulled away and whispered, "Open for me,
bebé
?"

Oh. She should have opened for him automatically. She knew how to kiss. "I'm sor—?"

He took advantage of her open mouth, his tongue plundering her like a pirate, taking her breath away. Her toes curled and she drew her knees up to try and alleviate some of the building pressure.

When she thought she'd go insane from wanting him to touch her, his hand released her wrists and he ended the kiss. She gasped for air.

"Do not move your hands.
¿Comprende?
"

She nodded, afraid her voice would betray her…neediness.

He trailed kisses to the hollow of her neck, nibbling the skin above her pulse. He must have felt her body's response. Her clit began to throb in syncopated rhythm with her heartbeat.

She wanted him to touch Chiquita, but couldn't ask.

His lips blazed a trail to her chest, taking her left nipple between his lips, while his finger and thumb rolled her right one. His teeth bit at her nipple and she hissed. The burning in her breasts bordered on painful. She wasn't sure, but thought Chiquita was getting wet.
Oh, my!

How much more could she take before she exploded?

Damián released her nipples and rolled on top of her, his mouth descending on her once again.

Smothering. Father's weight pressed her into the mattress…

Her breathing became ragged as she fought for control, but panic won out. She lowered her hands and pushed at his shoulders. "Stop! Get off! Guacamole!"

Damián rolled off her immediately and lay on his side. Embarrassed at being such a failure, she turned away from him, gasping for air and hugging herself for comfort. His hand stroked her shoulder and back.