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Mature content. Read at your own risk.
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He was beautiful.

He was tan, like the sun gave him little dovey kisses every morning before he stepped out of the house. His black hair was disheveled, like he ran his hands through them every ten minutes. His skin was smooth, his facial outline sharp. He had strong jaws, and sharp cheekbones and his pointed nose stood proudly on his face. His eyes were blue. Sharp piercing blue that felt like he was looking into your soul. He had nice lips, just good enough for kissing. Not too thin, not too full but in between and it just seemed like God created this man on a cool, calm Saturday morning.

Oh my God, my ovaries.

He wore a black short sleeved T-shirt that clung tightly to his body, his biceps looking deliciously firm, and his jeans made his legs look really long.

I think I'm in love.

His scent. He smelled heavenly. I felt like I was breathing new air.

God, he was tall. Maybe around 6'4 or more. He was so tall that I had to lift my head to look up at him. Jesus, that face. He had this look on, that screamed I-can-make-your-panties-drop-with-just-one-look. And he wasn't even smiling. It just made me wonder what he'd look like when he smiled. Or even better, when he laughed.

I could honestly say that this man standing in front of me was the most handsome man I'd seen in all my twenty six years of living. Because yes, he looked like sin.

I gave him a smile and was about to make random conversation when he opened his mouth.

"Are you blind?" he frowned.

Uh, what?

"Am I what?" I blinked. Was he serious?

"Please don't tell me you're deaf too." he scowled.

What?

Now I couldn't believe I was admiring the idiot. Beautiful face, empty brain.

"Are you shitting me?" I asked. "You crashed into me."

"Well, that wouldn't have happened if you had looked both ways before turning. Didn't your parents ever teach you how to cross the street?"

That hit home. Oh no, he didn't. Nobody, I repeat, no one had the right to talk about my parents that way. I saw red.

"Listen here, you moron. If you had any sense in that huge head of yours, then you'd know that this is your fault. If you had been paying any attention, you would've seen me before running into me." I honestly couldn't believe we were having this argument. In the middle of a club. With sweaty bodies surrounding us.

He raised a brow. I could practically see the gears in his head running. Well, what was he thinking about? I wasn't in the mood to listen to crap and I felt like a time bomb waiting to explode. Maybe it was the fact that I had alcohol all over my body or the fact that I was pissed he'd insulted my parents, whatever it was, I was itching for a fight.

He did something weird.

He smiled.

And damn, was it enchanting.

And instantly, his demeanor changed. His charm came on and he gave me a smirk. "So what does it feel like to be the most beautiful girl in the room?"

Uh?

"W-What?" I stuttered.

Don't blame me, it was quite hard to make coherent sentences with a million dollar smile like that coming your way.

"Wanna hear a joke? What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball?" he chuckled and I knew it was going to be something stupid or nasty. "Nothing. She just gagged a little."

I rolled my eyes at the pun, already coming to the conclusion that he was one of those cocky ones.

Ha. I'm doing it too.

"Seriously? That's the best you can do?" I deadpanned.

"Wanna hear a song about my penis?" I opened my mouth to say no when he answered for me. "Never mind, its too long."

I almost choked. Jesus, did he have a handbook of penis puns or what?

He must've seen the look on my face because he let out a laugh.

I could practically feel my ovaries melting.

"The name's Damon." he smiled and his eyes lit up. "Damon Peters."

Damon Peters. Even his name was sexy. Seriously, he was like a walking sex god.

"Lena," I replied. "Lena Donovan."

"Lena," he rolled my name in his tongue like it was chocolate, and he was savouring the taste. "Lena."

He came up behind me, placed his hands on my waist and moved my body to match his pace. The song playing was still a slow song and Damon made sure to use every minute of it to his advantage.

"So..." I started. His hands felt hot on my skin. Even though I had layers of clothing on, it felt like I was burning from his touch. We followed a gentle back and forth pattern, his jaw coming down to rest on my shoulder. "Have you always been this cocky?"

I hear his chuckle. "I'm not cocky. Just confident."

"You know what the difference is between cocky and confident? One of them doesn't sound like a dick."

"Ouch," his grip on my waist tightened a little. It wasn't painful, not at all. It was quite the opposite. It made me feel wanted.

"Awn, I'm sorry you're sad because you just found out the world doesn't revolve round you. Here, let me pour you a tall glass of get the hell over it." I turned to face him, and couldn't help the smirk that formed on my face.

What can I say? Sarcasm is my second language.

"The fact that you don't find me amazing doesn't reflect poorly on me, it just means that you have bad taste." he gave me a spin.

I couldn't really agrue with that. I did have bad taste. Matt was evidence enough.

"So what's a beautiful woman like you doing at a club all alone?" he whispered, spining me again, placing my back to his front.

"Who's says I'm alone?" Our bodies swayed to the music and I unknowingly grinded my butt against his front.

He groaned before replying. "Then why are you here dancing with me? Why aren't you with him?"

I could feel his hard length poking me from behind and it gave me a boost of confidence as I grinded deeper. "How sure are you that it isn't a 'she'?"

"You're a lesbian?" he stopped moving, and I could practically feel the shock pouring out of him in waves. "Damn, who's the moron that fucked it all up for the rest of us?"

I laughed. "I'm not a lesbian. Not that it would be a bad thing, but I prefer men."

He continued his movement, urging my body to follow him. "Good."

His grip on my waist deepened and I leaned back, the feel of his length hardening on my backside. His hot breath fanned the space between my neck and shoulder and I shivered. Why did it suddenly seem so cold?

I let him wrap his hands round my stomach, and slowly, his right hand found one of my breasts and he gave a little squeeze.

I gasped.

Easy. Easy.

Because I was feeling a little reckless, I chalked it all up to the effects of alcohol. I would never, in my right mind, do something as careless as  this. I was letting a stranger touch me inappropriately.

And the worse part, I didn't give a shit.

I turned to face him, instantly connecting my mouth with his. His tongue probed and probed, licking my lower lip. I opened to him, letting him explore the deepest parts of my mouth. He tasted of cigarettes, alcohol and man.

His roaming hands pulled me towards him, pressing my body flat against his. My skin tingled immediately when he moved his fingertips along my thigh. They were the slightest of touches, just like a feather, but they left me craving for more.

My arms found their way to his neck, wrapping around him. We honestly couldn't get any closer. You couldn't fit a pin between us if you tried. My fingers ran through his hair, and I savoured the silkiness of its feel in my hand.

With every stroke of his tongue, a fire ignited in me. It felt so hot, I wanted to run to the hills. At the same time.I wanted to stay and finish what I'd started, because I couldn't get enough of the man in front of me.

He took in a huge breath when he came up for air, his eyes closed. His forehead rested against mine, and I basked in the feeling of feeling again.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

I hesitated just for a moment. If I went with him, I knew exactly what would happen. Did I want it to? Yes. Would I regret it in the morning? Probably. Was I feeling a little reckless, and crazy?

Totally.

"Okay."

——————

The bathroom.

The fucking bathroom.

I didn't know what propelled me to follow him, or to even give him the time of day but I did. And at that moment, regret was the last thing on my mind.

Damon couldn't keep his hands off me, or maybe it was me that couldn't keep my hands off him. Either way, we couldn't keep our hands off each other.

The minute we were in the bathroom, Damon slammed the door shut. He lifted me up from under my thighs and placed me on the counter, maintaining a balance between my legs.

My dress had folded up to my waist and I was fully aware that my nude coloured panties were on display.

Damon pulled away with a harsh breath, letting his eyes roam all over my body. His eyes looked a little too clouded and dark, and a feral look swept over his face.

My chest heaved with heavy breaths and I waited for him to make the first move. Then his hands reached forward and grabbed my face, bringing my face down to meet his in a deep kiss.

We were like hungry, raging dogs in heat.

He kissed me fervently, like his life depended on it and I responded with equal fervor. I wrapped my arms around him pulling him closer, straining to get as close to him as possible.

This wasn't the slow kind of sex. No, it was needy. The kind people do to let out pent up anger and frustration. For me, it was my parents and the issue with Matt. And for him, well, he was as much a mystery to me as he is to you.

A few moments passed and the next thing I knew, my panties were being pushed to one side and I was fully aware that he was about to push into me.

"Condom," he said in a quick breath. "I don't have any,"

I licked my lips impatiently, "I'm on the pill. Hurry."

Because I'd always been scared of suddenly becoming a parent, especially with Matt, I put myself on the pill just in case we got too reckless and forgot to use protection.

In one quick push, he was inside me, expanding my walls, daring me to adjust to his huge size. I squeezed my eyes shut as a slight sting rushed through my body then subtly subsided.

I felt goosebumps on my skin, clenching my walls around him, this time daring him to move.

One. Two. Three.

Damon went slow and steady, because it always wins the race. With time, his pace increased and he was slaming into me with hurried force.

I let out a little scream, arching my back to meet his thrusts. With every push, he drove me to the edge and back again.

"Lena. Lena, you're driving me crazy," his little grunts filled my ears and I knew I'd would never feel anything like this again. Because only Damon Peters could make me feel this way. He made sure of that.

My vision clouded, and tears filled my eyes. I felt pleasure curl in my lower stomach and I knew I was almost there.

Moans of pleasure filled the small bathroom and I yearned to crash my lips against his.

Damon held me like I was an egg, fearing that I would break if he added a little too much force. For the first time in my sex life, I felt satisfied. The way his hands skillfully roamed my body, tracing my curves with the tips of his fingers.

A single tear dropped as my orgasm hit me. My legs felt like sand paper and I was thankful I wasn't standing. Damon came right after with a grunt, his cum exploding inside me. I could feel it dripping down my legs.

Damon's hold on me tightened as we road out our orgasms. I'd never felt so content in my entire life.

He pulled away first, his blue striking eyes facing my brown ones head on.

I knew it was all going to hell when he did a double take. And I knew why. My face had become tear stained, and my eyes were probably hot red.

I felt the confusion before it even came. "What...? Did I hurt you?" he questioned, looking a bit scared. "Fuck, I went a little to hard, didn't I? I'm so sorry."

He took a step back, his eyes still fixed on mine. He arranged himself back into his clothes and I could see he didn't know what else to do.

I wanted to assure him that no, he didn't hurt me and that it was the most beautiful moment of my life but he didn't give me the chance.

I watched him in sadness as he turned  on his heels, walked to the door, pulled it open and practically ran out, leaving me to ponder on what had just happened.

No, seriously? What just happened?

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