april
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,278
- Points
- 63
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Damon
The manor had grown silent in his absence, its halls echoing with the sigh of the wind and the hush of candle flames. But the silence broke the moment the oak doors swung open. Damon entered, tall and commanding, his very presence filling the space as if the stone itself remembered him.
He was devastating to behold. His olive skin; sun-kissed once, now burnished by travel and sleepless nights, seemed to glow against the darkness of his attire. Black hair, thick and rakish, fell about his face in untamed waves and his jaw, sharp as a blade, was shadowed faintly where stubble had grown in. His mouth was curved with that dangerous beauty that made people tremble; a sculpted bow capable of tenderness, but far more often of command.
But it was his eyes that betrayed him. Deep, rich brown, almost black in the dim light; they smoldered with hunger. Not for food. Not for drink. For her. Seven days he had gone without feeding, and it showed in the intensity of his gaze, in the taut lines bracing his body, in the restless twitch of his elegant fingers.
He could have fed elsewhere. Women had offered themselves; at inns, at courts, on the road, laughing, flirting, begging for his notice. But Damon had turned them all away with a coldness that shocked even himself. He had sworn himself to one woman. To drink laughter from any other lips would have been a betrayal far greater than hunger. And so he starved, faithful, obsessed, undone.
And then at last, he saw her.
She was at the foot of the stair when he entered, startled at the sudden echo of the door. Amethyst was a vision of warmth and life against the cold stone of the hall. Her chestnut hair unbound, rippled like silk down her shoulders, catching the lamplight in strands of gold. Her deep green eyes, bright, luminous, alive, met his, and in that moment Damon felt both saved and destroyed. She was the only source of sustenance he could ever crave. And god, he had been without her too long.
The sight of her sent a groan up his chest. His knees nearly buckled with the need of her.
“Damon,” She breathed, her lips parting in shock and joy.
He crossed the space in three long strides and seized her, his arms crushing her against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent until his whole body shuddered with relief.
“Seven days,” he rasped, his voice raw and unsteady. “Seven days without you, Amethyst. Without your laughter. I thought I would go mad.”
Her heart skipped. She knew what he was, what he lived upon, and the cost of her love, that he craved for her alone.
“You refused to feed?” She whispered, astonished.
“Of course I refused,” he growled softly, his lips brushing her temple, his hot breath trembling. “Do you think I could bear another's laughter on my tongue, when all I crave is yours? I would rather starve a thousand years than betray you.”
His hands, strong and restless, slid along her sides. His fingertips quivered, aching with the instinct to tickle, to draw from her the music that kept him alive. He wanted to gorge himself, to pin her down and drink until the hunger was gone. But he loved her too fiercely to drain her all at once.
So he held her tighter, nearly shaking with the strain of restraint, and whispered in a hoarse plea, “Forgive me, love, if I can't wait too long. I'm desperate for you. For the sound of you.”
Her breath caught, her body tingling in the way it always did when he hinted at what was to come. She adored it, oh how she adored it, but her heart raced with dread and desire alike, because she knew she could never endure what he had planned for her, not fully. And yet…she would give herself to him anyway.
Famished and desperate, Damon's hands slid from her waist to her ribs and flexed.
"Ahh! Damon!” Amethyst squealed, her body jolting as laughter burst from her lips. Her head tipped back, hair spilling like silk as giggles tumbled out in helpless bursts.
The sound hit him like fire. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth curving into a rugged half-smile as though he'd been drowning and just tasted air. He pressed her tighter against him, his fingers kneading mercilessly at her sides, drinking down every gasp, every frantic giggle.
“God, yes…” he groaned, lips grazing her ear as he tickled her. “Do you hear yourself, my love? Do you know what you do to me?”
She laughed harder, twisting in his grip, her hands clutching at his arms. “Damon, please…I'm trying…I can't! I can't!” Her laughter rang against the vaulted ceilings, her body caught between delight and torment.
He slowed only long enough to kiss her temple and then his fingers dragged higher, teasing beneath her arms, and her shriek of laughter made him growl with satisfaction. It filled him, seared him, aroused him. His hunger was sated only in sips. He was desperate to fill himself, to tickle her until she collapsed beneath him in breathless hysteria, to feast until dawn. But he forced himself to pause, even as her mirth still shivered in his chest like a decadent desert.
His fingers finally stilled, though they twitched against her, aching to continue. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest heaving, every muscle shaking with the effort to stop.
“I can't help myself, Amethyst. I'll feed on you all day; corner you in every room if I must. You'll never know when or where, only that I'm coming for your laughter…because I cannot restrain myself any longer.”
Damon reluctantly pulled himself away from her and turned abruptly before he had a change of heart. Amethyst watched him disappear down the darkened hall, her body still thrumming excitedly from his touch.
Later that morning, she sought solace in the grand library. She drifted between the tall shelves, fingertips grazing along the spines of dusty books, the hem of her gown whispering across the rug
She thought herself alone.
But Damon was already there, standing in the shadows, his hunger a living thing. He watched her for a moment, his dark eyes devouring every delicate curve, every sway of her hips as though he could already hear the laughter he needed. His desire for it was insatiable, his hands flexed at his sides, itching to claim her.
When she turned the corner, she nearly collided with him. Before she could catch her breath, his arm braced against the shelf above her head, pinning her in place. His other hand slid, slow and deliberate, down her waist to the curve of her hip.
He bent low, his mouth brushing her ear, his voice thick with need. “Did you think you could hide from me, little rebel? I warned you. I can't hold back.”
His fingers skimmed lower, whispering over her thigh. Her body braced. Then with exquisite patience, he squeezed. She jolted, lips parting on a gasp that broke into giggles, light and helpless, bubbling up before she could stop it.
His hand wandered higher and pressed lightly at the sensitive hollow of her hip. Her laughter washed over him, soft and sweet. He forced himself to move slowly, to savor instead of devour; it took his every effort. His fingers traced delicate paths from hip to thigh, then squeezed, then paused; tickling in cruel, gentle waves that left her giggling, writhing just enough to brush her body against his.
He bent lower, kissing her throat between her laughter, his lips warm against her skin. “That's it. Let me have you. Slowly. I won't break you…yet.” His teeth grazed her neck, then he kissed her again, softer, lingering.
His hand shifted to her other thigh, fingers kneading the tender flesh just above her knee only to glide back upward, tormenting her hip before she could catch her breath.
“Damon…please…it tickles so much!”
“I know,” he whispered, voice raw with hunger and heat. His kisses trailed up her cheek, then her lips, teasing between words. “That sound…I'm ravenous for it. You'll give it to me all day, little rebel. And tonight…” His hand squeezed her thigh again and she squealed through her giggles. “...tonight I'll have you in my bed. I'll make love to you until you beg me to stop, when my hunger is quiet and all that's left is need.”
His words made her knees weak as he teased at her hips again, gentle but merciless, drawing out her laughter effortlessly, leaving her flush and quivering, until she was breathless with desire.
“You'll never escape me today,” he murmured against her mouth, his tone dripping with devotion and want. “I'll take you in every corner of this house, my darling. I'll feed until I can breathe again. And then I'll ruin you properly.”
With a strangled growl, he released her, and without another word he turned and strode away, leaving her trembling against the shelves, lips swollen from his kiss.
He was still starving.
Amethyst steadied herself on the shelves, still glassy-eyed and dazed, she wandered down a nearby stain-glass corridor. Sunlight cast her in fractured colors, her lilac gown shimmering with blue, gold and crimson. She exhaled, thinking the silence meant safety.
A blur of shadow and heat, and suddenly her back slammed into the cold stone wall. His body pressed to hers, trapping her completely. He said nothing; only looked at her, eyes fever-bright, lips parted with ragged breath.
His fingers speared into her ribs, pressing deeply between every ridge. She squealed, laughter spilling raw and uncontrolled as she twisted uselessly against him.
“Damon…please! Too much! I can't bear it!”
He didn't relent. His hands shifted higher, burrowing beneath her arms, spidering the hollows until her voice broke, wild and panicked.
“Please…mercy! I can't stand it!”
He didn't answer. His jaw was tight, his lips parted as though every convulsion of her laughter poured straight into him. His weight trapped her, his hands unrelenting, switched from deep squeezes that stole her breath to light, torturous flutters that made her voice break into sharp cries.
Time seemed to stand still as the minutes passed, one after the other without end. Her strength faltered, her knees buckling as she sagged into the wall, laughter wrung out of her until she could barely speak. Damon's hands hovered, twitching, his hunger still raging.
With brutal restraint, he tore himself away and fled down the corridor, his cloak snapping behind him.
Amethyst slid weakly against the wall, flushed, shaking, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the aftershocks.
Damon was still nowhere near sated.
An hour passed. Then another.
Amethyst paced the halls, her heart a restless drum. Damon had never tickled her like that before; furious and consuming. The memory still quivered through her body, her skin tingling with its echo. She didn't know whether to lock herself away or go searching for him. But when his absence became unbearable, she made her way to his study to leave a note.
He was already there.
Damon rose the moment she entered; eyes filled with need and regret. They fixed on her as the key clicked in the door and disappeared into his pocket, locking them both inside. Then his mouth curved into a warm, tender smile.
Her heart jumped. She darted sideways around the desk.
Damon laughed, deep and rich, not furious but playful. “Run, little rebel. We both know how this ends for you.”
She fled with a startled laugh of her own, skirts brushing the desk as they circled each other. He lunged, she slipped past, their laughter chasing them both around the room. Every near-catch made her shriek, every glance at his eyes made her pulse quicken. It was cat and mouse, fox and hare, until he pounced and caught her by the waist.
She yelped as he lifted her, wriggling in his arms. “Damon, no! Put me down!”
He only grinned, carrying her across the study. “Onto the chaise then.”
In moments she was pressed down onto the velvet chaise, his body hovering over hers, dark eyes blazing. He caged her in, one knee pressed to the cushion beside her hip, his other leg pinning her thighs so she couldn't kick away.
Amethyst writhed beneath him, holding her breath as his fingertips began their slow, maddening journey. They skimmed the fabric of her gown over her stomach, light as whispers, igniting sparks that awoke her nerves. The touch was not firm enough to sooth, only to tease, to tickle, to torment. She squirmed, a sweet giggle escaping her lips, which made Damon's lips curl into a dark, ravenous smile.
His hand slipped upward, the pads of his fingers tracing the side of her stomach in a feathery caress. Then, with a devilish twist of his wrist, he turned his hand over and dragged the tops of his fingers down the opposite side, making her squeal and wriggle. Her laughter bubbled, light and unbidden, and he drank in the sound like the finest vintage.
He wandered lower, below her navel, where two fingers flicked back and forth across the sensitive plane of her belly. Amethyst arched and twisted, giggles now overflowing in careless swells. Damon's face had gone utterly serious; almost primal. His gaze never left her stomach as if every shiver, every little quiver was his to claim.
Her gown became his next target. With deliberate slowness, he began to unfasten the delicate buttons at the front, one by one. Each time a button gave way, his fingertips brushed bare, sensitive skin beneath, grazing and teasing with predacious cruelty. Amethyst gasped and squealed, her laughter surging louder now as the warmth of his touch invaded her defenses.
When he reached the button just below her navel, he paused. A single finger dipped into her bellybutton, swirling and teasing in a way that sent her straight into uproarious hysterics. She bucked against him but couldn't break free, her hands grabbing furiously at the cushions beneath her.
“D-Damon, please!” She pleaded breathlessly, though her eyes were shining with both mirth and arousal.
He lingered there, eyes dark with desire, before undoing the next button below. His hunger was palpable, vibrating in the air between them. And then, unexpectedly, Amethyst's own hands slid down to help. With a defiant, seductive glint in her eyes, she began undoing the buttons herself, each movement deliberate.
“Have me, my love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with surrender and heat. “Take what you need. Take all of me.”
Damon's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sound of her surrender breaking something deep inside him. When they opened again, they were nearly black, untamed with craving and impulse. A low, guttural moan rumbled in his throat as he shoved aside the fabric, baring her midriff completely to him.
His lips descended on her skin with veneration and greed. He kissed her stomach softly at first, the feathery pressure of his mouth titillating as much as it worshiped. He nuzzled, letting his stubble graze her tender flesh and then pressed even lighter, tickly kisses across every inch. Amethyst squeaked and shivered as his lips roamed.
When his mouth dipped to her bellybutton, his tongue flicking and circling inside, she lost all control. Her laughter rang out, uninhibited, her body quickening. Her hands shot to the sides of the chaise, fingers digging into the velvet, her only tether to composure.
Damon's mouth lingered at her navel, his lips sealing over the soft hollow. He sucked gently, a languid, calculated pull that sent electric sparks shooting through Amethyst's body. The sensation was too much; intimate, unbearably ticklish, and completely unexpected. A frantic shriek tore from her throat.
“DAMON!” She wailed, her voice splintering
between desperate breaths. Her fingers now clawed at the soft velvet, knuckles white, but she didn't push him away. She couldn't. She wouldn't.
A low growl vibrated against her stomach as Damon drew back just enough to watch her. His lips were slick, his breath hot against her trembling skin. Then, with a dark, hungry gleam in his blackened eyes, he dipped back down; this time…teeth.
He grazed the smooth curve of her belly, the bites light and teasing. Amethyst's laughter rose, her hips jerking wildly. He nipped again, just beside her navel, leaving a wet mark before dragging his lips upward.
She became more and more panicked as he climbed higher, scattering nips and kisses across her midriff. Each bite was sharper than the last, wet and ticklish, and the growls and rumbles in his chest made the teasing all the more agonizing. By the time his mouth reached her ribs, she was thrashing, utterly defenseless beneath him.
The bites suddenly turned viciously ticklish. Damon's sharp little nips along the sensitive ridges sent her spiraling, her arms flying off the cushions, hands clutching desperately at nothing but air.
He didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His craving demanded every sound, every convulsion of her body. He devoured, teeth bared in satisfaction as he continued biting and licking, his growls and snarls reverberating between her screams, the velvet chaise groaning beneath her struggles.
He drank it in, filling himself, half starved after a week without her. Every laugh, every tremor he elicited with his touch fed him as much as her love ever could. She was his feast, his surrender, his salvation.
At last Damon slowed, his hunger giving way to tenderness. The biting softening into gentle kisses, each one apologetic, each one lingering with affection. Amethyst lay beneath him, breathless and glowing, her laughter fading into soft, shaky sighs.
“Thank you, my love,” he murmured against her skin. “for your laughter…for giving yourself to me.”
His kisses trailed upward, warm and adoring, carrying with them unspoken devotion. “I love you.” He whispered again and again, as if the words themselves bound him to her.
Her trembling hand slid into his hair, drawing him closer. Damon gathered her against his chest, holding her as though he'd never let go. He kissed her forehead softly, whispering his promise into her soul, “You are everything to me; my heart, my life…forever, I am yours.”
Damon
The manor had grown silent in his absence, its halls echoing with the sigh of the wind and the hush of candle flames. But the silence broke the moment the oak doors swung open. Damon entered, tall and commanding, his very presence filling the space as if the stone itself remembered him.
He was devastating to behold. His olive skin; sun-kissed once, now burnished by travel and sleepless nights, seemed to glow against the darkness of his attire. Black hair, thick and rakish, fell about his face in untamed waves and his jaw, sharp as a blade, was shadowed faintly where stubble had grown in. His mouth was curved with that dangerous beauty that made people tremble; a sculpted bow capable of tenderness, but far more often of command.
But it was his eyes that betrayed him. Deep, rich brown, almost black in the dim light; they smoldered with hunger. Not for food. Not for drink. For her. Seven days he had gone without feeding, and it showed in the intensity of his gaze, in the taut lines bracing his body, in the restless twitch of his elegant fingers.
He could have fed elsewhere. Women had offered themselves; at inns, at courts, on the road, laughing, flirting, begging for his notice. But Damon had turned them all away with a coldness that shocked even himself. He had sworn himself to one woman. To drink laughter from any other lips would have been a betrayal far greater than hunger. And so he starved, faithful, obsessed, undone.
And then at last, he saw her.
She was at the foot of the stair when he entered, startled at the sudden echo of the door. Amethyst was a vision of warmth and life against the cold stone of the hall. Her chestnut hair unbound, rippled like silk down her shoulders, catching the lamplight in strands of gold. Her deep green eyes, bright, luminous, alive, met his, and in that moment Damon felt both saved and destroyed. She was the only source of sustenance he could ever crave. And god, he had been without her too long.
The sight of her sent a groan up his chest. His knees nearly buckled with the need of her.
“Damon,” She breathed, her lips parting in shock and joy.
He crossed the space in three long strides and seized her, his arms crushing her against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent until his whole body shuddered with relief.
“Seven days,” he rasped, his voice raw and unsteady. “Seven days without you, Amethyst. Without your laughter. I thought I would go mad.”
Her heart skipped. She knew what he was, what he lived upon, and the cost of her love, that he craved for her alone.
“You refused to feed?” She whispered, astonished.
“Of course I refused,” he growled softly, his lips brushing her temple, his hot breath trembling. “Do you think I could bear another's laughter on my tongue, when all I crave is yours? I would rather starve a thousand years than betray you.”
His hands, strong and restless, slid along her sides. His fingertips quivered, aching with the instinct to tickle, to draw from her the music that kept him alive. He wanted to gorge himself, to pin her down and drink until the hunger was gone. But he loved her too fiercely to drain her all at once.
So he held her tighter, nearly shaking with the strain of restraint, and whispered in a hoarse plea, “Forgive me, love, if I can't wait too long. I'm desperate for you. For the sound of you.”
Her breath caught, her body tingling in the way it always did when he hinted at what was to come. She adored it, oh how she adored it, but her heart raced with dread and desire alike, because she knew she could never endure what he had planned for her, not fully. And yet…she would give herself to him anyway.
Famished and desperate, Damon's hands slid from her waist to her ribs and flexed.
"Ahh! Damon!” Amethyst squealed, her body jolting as laughter burst from her lips. Her head tipped back, hair spilling like silk as giggles tumbled out in helpless bursts.
The sound hit him like fire. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth curving into a rugged half-smile as though he'd been drowning and just tasted air. He pressed her tighter against him, his fingers kneading mercilessly at her sides, drinking down every gasp, every frantic giggle.
“God, yes…” he groaned, lips grazing her ear as he tickled her. “Do you hear yourself, my love? Do you know what you do to me?”
She laughed harder, twisting in his grip, her hands clutching at his arms. “Damon, please…I'm trying…I can't! I can't!” Her laughter rang against the vaulted ceilings, her body caught between delight and torment.
He slowed only long enough to kiss her temple and then his fingers dragged higher, teasing beneath her arms, and her shriek of laughter made him growl with satisfaction. It filled him, seared him, aroused him. His hunger was sated only in sips. He was desperate to fill himself, to tickle her until she collapsed beneath him in breathless hysteria, to feast until dawn. But he forced himself to pause, even as her mirth still shivered in his chest like a decadent desert.
His fingers finally stilled, though they twitched against her, aching to continue. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest heaving, every muscle shaking with the effort to stop.
“I can't help myself, Amethyst. I'll feed on you all day; corner you in every room if I must. You'll never know when or where, only that I'm coming for your laughter…because I cannot restrain myself any longer.”
Damon reluctantly pulled himself away from her and turned abruptly before he had a change of heart. Amethyst watched him disappear down the darkened hall, her body still thrumming excitedly from his touch.
Later that morning, she sought solace in the grand library. She drifted between the tall shelves, fingertips grazing along the spines of dusty books, the hem of her gown whispering across the rug
She thought herself alone.
But Damon was already there, standing in the shadows, his hunger a living thing. He watched her for a moment, his dark eyes devouring every delicate curve, every sway of her hips as though he could already hear the laughter he needed. His desire for it was insatiable, his hands flexed at his sides, itching to claim her.
When she turned the corner, she nearly collided with him. Before she could catch her breath, his arm braced against the shelf above her head, pinning her in place. His other hand slid, slow and deliberate, down her waist to the curve of her hip.
He bent low, his mouth brushing her ear, his voice thick with need. “Did you think you could hide from me, little rebel? I warned you. I can't hold back.”
His fingers skimmed lower, whispering over her thigh. Her body braced. Then with exquisite patience, he squeezed. She jolted, lips parting on a gasp that broke into giggles, light and helpless, bubbling up before she could stop it.
His hand wandered higher and pressed lightly at the sensitive hollow of her hip. Her laughter washed over him, soft and sweet. He forced himself to move slowly, to savor instead of devour; it took his every effort. His fingers traced delicate paths from hip to thigh, then squeezed, then paused; tickling in cruel, gentle waves that left her giggling, writhing just enough to brush her body against his.
He bent lower, kissing her throat between her laughter, his lips warm against her skin. “That's it. Let me have you. Slowly. I won't break you…yet.” His teeth grazed her neck, then he kissed her again, softer, lingering.
His hand shifted to her other thigh, fingers kneading the tender flesh just above her knee only to glide back upward, tormenting her hip before she could catch her breath.
“Damon…please…it tickles so much!”
“I know,” he whispered, voice raw with hunger and heat. His kisses trailed up her cheek, then her lips, teasing between words. “That sound…I'm ravenous for it. You'll give it to me all day, little rebel. And tonight…” His hand squeezed her thigh again and she squealed through her giggles. “...tonight I'll have you in my bed. I'll make love to you until you beg me to stop, when my hunger is quiet and all that's left is need.”
His words made her knees weak as he teased at her hips again, gentle but merciless, drawing out her laughter effortlessly, leaving her flush and quivering, until she was breathless with desire.
“You'll never escape me today,” he murmured against her mouth, his tone dripping with devotion and want. “I'll take you in every corner of this house, my darling. I'll feed until I can breathe again. And then I'll ruin you properly.”
With a strangled growl, he released her, and without another word he turned and strode away, leaving her trembling against the shelves, lips swollen from his kiss.
He was still starving.
Amethyst steadied herself on the shelves, still glassy-eyed and dazed, she wandered down a nearby stain-glass corridor. Sunlight cast her in fractured colors, her lilac gown shimmering with blue, gold and crimson. She exhaled, thinking the silence meant safety.
A blur of shadow and heat, and suddenly her back slammed into the cold stone wall. His body pressed to hers, trapping her completely. He said nothing; only looked at her, eyes fever-bright, lips parted with ragged breath.
His fingers speared into her ribs, pressing deeply between every ridge. She squealed, laughter spilling raw and uncontrolled as she twisted uselessly against him.
“Damon…please! Too much! I can't bear it!”
He didn't relent. His hands shifted higher, burrowing beneath her arms, spidering the hollows until her voice broke, wild and panicked.
“Please…mercy! I can't stand it!”
He didn't answer. His jaw was tight, his lips parted as though every convulsion of her laughter poured straight into him. His weight trapped her, his hands unrelenting, switched from deep squeezes that stole her breath to light, torturous flutters that made her voice break into sharp cries.
Time seemed to stand still as the minutes passed, one after the other without end. Her strength faltered, her knees buckling as she sagged into the wall, laughter wrung out of her until she could barely speak. Damon's hands hovered, twitching, his hunger still raging.
With brutal restraint, he tore himself away and fled down the corridor, his cloak snapping behind him.
Amethyst slid weakly against the wall, flushed, shaking, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the aftershocks.
Damon was still nowhere near sated.
An hour passed. Then another.
Amethyst paced the halls, her heart a restless drum. Damon had never tickled her like that before; furious and consuming. The memory still quivered through her body, her skin tingling with its echo. She didn't know whether to lock herself away or go searching for him. But when his absence became unbearable, she made her way to his study to leave a note.
He was already there.
Damon rose the moment she entered; eyes filled with need and regret. They fixed on her as the key clicked in the door and disappeared into his pocket, locking them both inside. Then his mouth curved into a warm, tender smile.
Her heart jumped. She darted sideways around the desk.
Damon laughed, deep and rich, not furious but playful. “Run, little rebel. We both know how this ends for you.”
She fled with a startled laugh of her own, skirts brushing the desk as they circled each other. He lunged, she slipped past, their laughter chasing them both around the room. Every near-catch made her shriek, every glance at his eyes made her pulse quicken. It was cat and mouse, fox and hare, until he pounced and caught her by the waist.
She yelped as he lifted her, wriggling in his arms. “Damon, no! Put me down!”
He only grinned, carrying her across the study. “Onto the chaise then.”
In moments she was pressed down onto the velvet chaise, his body hovering over hers, dark eyes blazing. He caged her in, one knee pressed to the cushion beside her hip, his other leg pinning her thighs so she couldn't kick away.
Amethyst writhed beneath him, holding her breath as his fingertips began their slow, maddening journey. They skimmed the fabric of her gown over her stomach, light as whispers, igniting sparks that awoke her nerves. The touch was not firm enough to sooth, only to tease, to tickle, to torment. She squirmed, a sweet giggle escaping her lips, which made Damon's lips curl into a dark, ravenous smile.
His hand slipped upward, the pads of his fingers tracing the side of her stomach in a feathery caress. Then, with a devilish twist of his wrist, he turned his hand over and dragged the tops of his fingers down the opposite side, making her squeal and wriggle. Her laughter bubbled, light and unbidden, and he drank in the sound like the finest vintage.
He wandered lower, below her navel, where two fingers flicked back and forth across the sensitive plane of her belly. Amethyst arched and twisted, giggles now overflowing in careless swells. Damon's face had gone utterly serious; almost primal. His gaze never left her stomach as if every shiver, every little quiver was his to claim.
Her gown became his next target. With deliberate slowness, he began to unfasten the delicate buttons at the front, one by one. Each time a button gave way, his fingertips brushed bare, sensitive skin beneath, grazing and teasing with predacious cruelty. Amethyst gasped and squealed, her laughter surging louder now as the warmth of his touch invaded her defenses.
When he reached the button just below her navel, he paused. A single finger dipped into her bellybutton, swirling and teasing in a way that sent her straight into uproarious hysterics. She bucked against him but couldn't break free, her hands grabbing furiously at the cushions beneath her.
“D-Damon, please!” She pleaded breathlessly, though her eyes were shining with both mirth and arousal.
He lingered there, eyes dark with desire, before undoing the next button below. His hunger was palpable, vibrating in the air between them. And then, unexpectedly, Amethyst's own hands slid down to help. With a defiant, seductive glint in her eyes, she began undoing the buttons herself, each movement deliberate.
“Have me, my love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with surrender and heat. “Take what you need. Take all of me.”
Damon's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sound of her surrender breaking something deep inside him. When they opened again, they were nearly black, untamed with craving and impulse. A low, guttural moan rumbled in his throat as he shoved aside the fabric, baring her midriff completely to him.
His lips descended on her skin with veneration and greed. He kissed her stomach softly at first, the feathery pressure of his mouth titillating as much as it worshiped. He nuzzled, letting his stubble graze her tender flesh and then pressed even lighter, tickly kisses across every inch. Amethyst squeaked and shivered as his lips roamed.
When his mouth dipped to her bellybutton, his tongue flicking and circling inside, she lost all control. Her laughter rang out, uninhibited, her body quickening. Her hands shot to the sides of the chaise, fingers digging into the velvet, her only tether to composure.
Damon's mouth lingered at her navel, his lips sealing over the soft hollow. He sucked gently, a languid, calculated pull that sent electric sparks shooting through Amethyst's body. The sensation was too much; intimate, unbearably ticklish, and completely unexpected. A frantic shriek tore from her throat.
“DAMON!” She wailed, her voice splintering
between desperate breaths. Her fingers now clawed at the soft velvet, knuckles white, but she didn't push him away. She couldn't. She wouldn't.
A low growl vibrated against her stomach as Damon drew back just enough to watch her. His lips were slick, his breath hot against her trembling skin. Then, with a dark, hungry gleam in his blackened eyes, he dipped back down; this time…teeth.
He grazed the smooth curve of her belly, the bites light and teasing. Amethyst's laughter rose, her hips jerking wildly. He nipped again, just beside her navel, leaving a wet mark before dragging his lips upward.
She became more and more panicked as he climbed higher, scattering nips and kisses across her midriff. Each bite was sharper than the last, wet and ticklish, and the growls and rumbles in his chest made the teasing all the more agonizing. By the time his mouth reached her ribs, she was thrashing, utterly defenseless beneath him.
The bites suddenly turned viciously ticklish. Damon's sharp little nips along the sensitive ridges sent her spiraling, her arms flying off the cushions, hands clutching desperately at nothing but air.
He didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His craving demanded every sound, every convulsion of her body. He devoured, teeth bared in satisfaction as he continued biting and licking, his growls and snarls reverberating between her screams, the velvet chaise groaning beneath her struggles.
He drank it in, filling himself, half starved after a week without her. Every laugh, every tremor he elicited with his touch fed him as much as her love ever could. She was his feast, his surrender, his salvation.
At last Damon slowed, his hunger giving way to tenderness. The biting softening into gentle kisses, each one apologetic, each one lingering with affection. Amethyst lay beneath him, breathless and glowing, her laughter fading into soft, shaky sighs.
“Thank you, my love,” he murmured against her skin. “for your laughter…for giving yourself to me.”
His kisses trailed upward, warm and adoring, carrying with them unspoken devotion. “I love you.” He whispered again and again, as if the words themselves bound him to her.
Her trembling hand slid into his hair, drawing him closer. Damon gathered her against his chest, holding her as though he'd never let go. He kissed her forehead softly, whispering his promise into her soul, “You are everything to me; my heart, my life…forever, I am yours.”
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