Nobody's Perfect (67 page)

Zing!

She nearly groaned when he turned her on her side, her back to him.

Please, touch me, Damián
.

"Don't make me wait! I need this!"

"I know,
bebé
. I'll take care of you." His hand glided down her side, over her hip, and curled around to her mons. She bucked against him. He stroked her clit hood until she was on the verge of coming.

"Not like this!" She whimpered. "I want you inside me."

"I'm getting there. A little anticipation is good for my princess slut."

She groaned. How they'd gotten this far in such a short time, she didn't know or care. She only knew she needed him inside Chiquita—now!

"Lift your left leg."

She wasn't sure how he wanted her to lift it, so she tented it. He moved down the blanket a bit until she felt Chico gliding against her slick pussy—
Chiquita
!
Dear lord!

He stroked from her hole to her clit, back and forth, the pressure building. Then his hand came under her thigh and reached for her clit.

"Oh, God! Don't make me come yet! Please! I need you inside me!" She nearly whimpered with painful need and reached out to guide Chico to her opening. Damián sucked air into his mouth.

"You're in charge, bebé."

She pressed herself against him, taking him a little further.

"You’re so fucking tight.”

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck, woman. That's something you don't ever have to apologize for."

He lay still, as if waiting for her to adjust to his size. His breathing was shallow and rapid, as was hers.

The only demon she fought now was the need for Chiquita to come. Raising up on her elbow, she found she had more leverage and pushed down more of Chico's length. She tilted her pelvis, taking him deeper.

“That’s right,
bebé
. Fuck me.”

She slammed herself down the length of him. "Oh, God!" He throbbed inside her, and she began to ride him harder. He took her hip in his firm hand and slowed down the rhythm.

"Chico's waited a long time to be here again and doesn't want it to end too soon."

She giggled and remembered to take a breath. She hadn't been this horny since, well, since she was nineteen and Damián had brought her here.

She felt so full. The pressure built beyond what she could stand.

"Damián, I don't think I can wait!"

"Come first. I'm right behind you."

"Ha-ha." This was no time for his teasing.

Chico throbbed inside her as Damián sank his teeth into her shoulder, as if to hold her steady. He pumped his hips against her backside, driving himself deeper inside her. She panted, trying to fill her lungs, but not succeeding.

Reaching down, she stroked his balls, gently pulling the hairs. His teeth bit harder as he groaned.

His mouth released her. “I can’t hold back any longer,
bebé
. Come. Now."

His hand stroked her clit faster, and the pressure built. Savannah had waited so long for Damián to possess her again, to claim her body and soul. He was the first, last, and only man who would ever receive the gift of her body.

"Ohh! Come with me, Damián! Don't stop!" She squeezed her eyes closed, the sweet agony of her release exploding between them.

"Give it all to me, bebe!" He pulsated inside her.

Savannah's screams reverberated throughout the walls of the cave. "I'm yours, Damián! Always."

"
Santa Madre de Dios!
" he gritted out through his teeth as he came.

His orgasm had been torn from him as painfully as hers had been, judging by this pain she heard in his voice. They both collapsed onto the blanket, chests heaving as they tried to breathe normally again.

She curled up against him and fell asleep.

* * *

Damián had no fucking clue how long they slept, but at some point, Savannah had rolled onto her back. He propped his head in his hand and watched the gentle rise and fall of her breasts.

His glance strayed lower, to her flat belly. What if he'd planted another baby in her today? He hoped so. He wanted to have lots of kids—and be able to be with her through every pregnancy until they were both old and gray and holding their great-grandchildren on their laps.

Mi mariposa.
I will never let you go again.

He traced the almost invisible stretch marks low on her belly. She blinked herself awake and smiled up at him.

"How long did I sleep?"

"As long as you needed to, I guess."

"How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to admire the beautiful marks on your belly."

"I have stretch marks."

Damián hoped his expression conveyed how pissed he was that she was putting down his beautiful body. "Those are
my
stretch marks—from
my
baby—and they're the most beautiful marks I'll ever put on you—at least, until we have another baby."

She gave him a wobbly smile, and blinked rapidly. "You can even make my stretch marks seem sexy."

His finger traced her jaw. "
Chica
, everything about you is sexy as hell."

She turned away, a pensive look on her face and then met his gaze again.

"I've been thinking more about becoming your submissive."

He grinned at her. "I wondered when you'd be ready to finish that discussion."

"I'd probably have finished sooner, if you'd prodded me nicely. Maybe with the evil stick."

He pinched her thigh to simulate the sting of the heart-shaped evil stick he'd used to help her focus. She yelped, then smiled. He was going to enjoy taking her deeper into sadomasochism and finding ways to turn pain into pleasure for her. First, she wanted to talk about submission.

"I'm not going to force you into something you aren't ready for. I figured you'd come back to it after you'd made your decision or when you had more questions."

"You're a very patient man, Damián." She traced the line of his jaw brushing the tip of her finger across his lips. He opened and sucked her finger inside.

Her pupils dilated and nipples enlarged. The woman was such a fucking turn-on to him, and she was easier than ever to get turned on these past couple weeks. All that passion he'd seen years ago had laid dormant for so long, she needed release—and often.

She blinked a few times and pulled her hand away. "You're very distracting. If you want us to have this conversation, you'll need to stop doing things like that."

He chuckled.

She turned her face away, not sure where to start. "Damián, what does being a bedroom submissive involve?" Her face flushed. She hoped he couldn't see, but at least she wasn't looking into his intense eyes.

"It's just a label. The only rules are the ones we set, so it can mean whatever we want it to mean. More important than giving it a label is negotiating the hard limits, softer boundaries, wants, and needs. We can strictly be D/s in the club, if you'd like, or at home, as well—in our bedroom."

Dios
, he couldn't wait to move into their new house. Kissing her goodnight at his bedroom door and letting her sleep with Marisol instead of him had gotten fucking old, especially after she'd agreed to marry him.

He remembered the night he'd proposed and grinned. Dad had gifted them with the bedroom furniture in the room they'd shared at the club. Luke assured him the piece Damián had broken off could be glued back on, but Luke and Dad hadn't let him live it down yet.

"But if I'm your submissive, won't you want to control me all the time?"

He took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. "I'm a Dom, Savannah. I try to be in control of
myself
at all times, sometimes to the extreme. That control allows me to be in a place where I am responsible enough to accept the submission of someone who wants me to control her. The only control I will ever have over you is what you grant to me."

"I don't want to give up what little control I have."

"What frightens you about giving up control?"

She shuddered. "My past."

"Your father, Lyle, and the others weren't Doms—they were abusers. If they'd come into my club or any other kink community, they're have been taken care of long ago. We don't tolerate that behavior among our own."

"I've always felt safe in your club. I trust the people there."

"We run a pretty good club. Only one problem I can remember, when Angelina first came to the club. I think we owners learned then that letting someone that abusive off by withdrawing membership isn't good enough. Next time…"

He took a deep breath, still pissed the asshole had come back to attack Angelina again. If only they'd busted his balls the first time. But that didn't relate to this conversation.

"
Savita
, nothing is going to happen that you don't consent to, no matter what we call ourselves. Being a Dom isn't about me forcing my will on you, or even having my own needs met."

"But I like to do things for you that I think you need."

He grinned. "Yes, that is the service part of submission. I've enjoyed how you've tried to anticipate and serve my needs as my bottom, but it's not something most of my bottoms have done. You didn't have to."

"I disagree—if that's okay…
Sir
."

He tweaked her impertinent nose. "We're negotiating. Now, if we were in a scene we'd negotiated and you got bratty and disagreeable, then there might be consequences. Right now, though, it's important that you communicate honestly with me so I know what you like and don't like, and what you want our relationship to evolve into, if different from what we have now as Top and bottom."

Never having been in a Dom role before, he tried to think how else their relationship might change.

"Being a Dom gives me more of a chance to help train your mind to learn discipline that can help you cope. My dominance might spill over into other areas of our lives, as well, not just during a scene. Does that frighten you?"

"No, I think it would actually make me feel safer knowing you're protecting me."

"I would do that whether I was your Top or your Dom."

"Yes, you always have." Her hand played absently with the tat on his chest, causing his dick to stir.

"As your Dom, I would work with you to learn a deeper level of discipline, which would help you gain a better sense of control in your life—and help you learn what you can't control."

"The only thing I've ever felt in control of was raising Mari, but I enjoy sharing that responsibility with you now. It's hard to be a single parent."

"Hardest job in the world. I would be scared shitless if I had to do it all on my own. I don't know how you managed all those years, other than the fact that you're an amazingly strong woman. I've enjoyed sharing the responsibility of her upbringing with you these past months."

"You're an incredible daddy. I think I first realized I could trust you when I saw how you cared for Teresa when she was so vulnerable after her rape. You held her and comforted her. At first, I was a little nervous when she crawled into your lap in my office…"

He heard her voice go up in tone to become almost childlike and knew more memories of her own father's abuse and betrayal were surfacing. He wrapped her more tightly in his arms. "Most men would never even think what your father and Teresa's did was possible. Those
cabrones
are the exception. I know, in your line of work, you see the worst of mankind, but most men are honorable and decent."

"Maybe. All I know is that you are. And I trust Adam, Marc, Luke…I guess as I slowly get to know others, I'll grow to trust more men, but the net will never be spread far. It's so hard for me to trust anyone."

"For good reason. You're now under my protection, as well as the other dominants at the club, including Grant. We take care of our own." " His hand rested on her belly. "Family is everything."

"I'm glad to be part of your family, but also so happy we're a family now."

She continued to trace the jaw of his dragon tat as she thought things out. He held his emotions in check, not wanting to influence her decision of letting him become her Dom. This was something she had to want, not something she should do to serve his wants, although being her Dom also would fulfill a need deep inside him, he knew without a doubt.

"I love this tat."

He sighed. Clearly, she wasn't ready to make a decision.

"Why did you choose a dragon?"

Hmmm. How to answer this without looking even more like a sentimental pantywaist? When he didn't answer right away, she looked up at him. Drawing a page from the story books he liked to read to Marisol, he began, "Once upon a time, there was a blonde-haired princess who looked like a Barbie doll. She was being treated very badly by the evil, powerful men in her life…"

Savannah stopped breathing, waiting for him to continue the story.

"One day, a lowly peasant rescued her from the tower in a castle where she was being abused. They only spent one perfect day together before they were separated for many years by circumstances they couldn't control.

"The peasant never forgot the sadness in the princess's pretty blue eyes and vowed to himself that one day he would return to slay her dragons. Unfortunately, he was sent to war and captured by a dragon from which he couldn't escape. The dragon began to eat away at him, starting with his foot, and ending with his pride and self-worth." Damián still had a ways to go in accepting his disability, but Savannah's acceptance of him helped a lot.

Realizing she was waiting for more of the story, he gathered his thoughts and continued.

"Even though he'd escaped to a mountain hideaway to start a new life, the dragon always found him, often late at night. He knew he could never be what the beautiful princess needed, so he tried to forget about her."

Tears filled her eyes, and she reached up to stroke his cheek.

"Many years later, the princess and her equally beautiful daughter came to the peasant, who had some special skills she thought might help her slay the evil dragons pursuing them, as well."
There were too fucking many dragons in this fairy tale—and in their lives
. He cleared his throat. "The battle was fierce, but together with some of the peasant's family members, two of the princess's worst dragons were sent away where they could never hurt the two princesses again."