DAMIAN’S NEED

this story takes place after the end of

Awakening Her Needs Book 4

by
Blaise Quin
and
C. C. Morian
Published by YRBS

Copyright © 2018 by C. C. Morian and Blaise Quin

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without
permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations included in
critical articles and reviews. Thank you for supporting the rights of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, is
entirely coincidental.

Version 1d
 DAMIAN’S NEED

The woman, tall, elegant, beautiful, was doing all the right things, saying all
the right words. She’d kissed him, caressed him, embraced him, her soft fingers
playing along his back like an instrument.
Damian’s eyes were drawn to her spectacularly large wedding ring, as she no
doubt wanted. Dispassionately he assessed its value, noticing the fine platinum
setting, the sparkle. Though it was big, it wasn’t gaudy. He had no doubt the
diamonds were real, the woman rich, married to a tech startup tycoon, a man too
busy or too insecure or too boring to satisfy her. Or just not good enough. Her
husband.
Her white husband.
Damian had long since got past the thrill of fucking another man’s wife. White,
black, it didn’t matter to him, who the husband was, whether there even was a
husband. What was more interesting was whether the woman wanted him right
away or not. Especially a women who did but resisted her temptation, because of
the color of his skin, or the fact that she was married.
Like Emily.
Funny, he thought, he still thought of her as Emily. Not as the little blond, or
the one with the tight ass, or any other way he remembered—when he did—and
referred to his other woman. Emily was the only one he thought of by name.
He’d once called her his slut. He no longer thought of her that way, because
she wasn’t his, and perhaps had never been. Not even when she had called herself
his slut.
This woman, tonight maybe sensing his distance, cooed at him, running her
manicured fingernail along his neck, as if that would scare him or get his attention.
Damian didn’t react like she expected, or wanted, he just ignored it.
The woman tried another approach, stepping back, running her hands along her
ample breasts, down her sides. She’d told Damian she’d never cheated on her
husband, and he believed it. Beautiful as she was, she was acting like she wasn’t
sure if she was still attractive to other men. Out of practice for having to get
another man to want her.
He watched her slowly strip off her clothes. She had a great body, but he knew
that, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered with her. That, and the fact that she had
appeared to not be a cheating type. She and her husband had been profiled in
magazines, always holding hands, talking about their partnership, how close they
were, how much they loved each other.
And here she was, talking off the dress that her husband had paid for.
She was about to break her vows of marriage not because she was a slut, not
because she hadn’t believed what she’d vowed, but because Damian had wanted
her. Like all the woman he’d had, she’d succumbed. Too many to count. It didn’t
matter, he could always get another.
Once he had her hooked he had made her broach the idea of them being
together, her hints at first subtle, then becoming increasingly more direct. He’d
toyed with her, working her up to a frenzy well before they’d even touched,
making her desperate to do what she had never before even considered.
Making her need it. Need him.
The first time they’d been together alone, at a hotel bar, she was ready to be
taken, she wanted to be taken. But he’d not even touched her that night. She’d
pleaded with her eyes, but he wanted her in a position where she was more than
physically ready.
That first night, she would have willingly followed him to a hotel room.
That was a month ago. Damian could tell just by looking at her eyes that right
now if he told her to run away with him she’d jump at the chance. Even though he
hadn’t yet touched her.
The dress fell to the floor.
Damian didn’t move, his face as quiet as his body. The woman accepted his
stare for perhaps a minute, which was pretty good, considering. Then her eyes
moved away, again perhaps unsure of whether her body was as appealing in its
nakedness as it had been flowing under the dress.
She had large, sensuous nipples, surrounded by dark black areoles. She wasn’t
a small woman, a marvelous mix of slender and curves. She could entice any man.
Yet Damian wasn’t feeling it, not for her, just as he hadn’t felt it since Emily
had left.
This woman had all that a man could want. Elegance, sexuality, a stunning
body, an alluring face. And desire for him. And yet he’d forget her name in a week.
Maybe a day.
His cock didn’t even stir.
It might be interesting, walk out on her, tell her she needed to offer him more,
leave her wondering. Wait a week, a month, see what she might be willing to do
just for another chance.
 It wasn’t necessary, she’d do whatever he wanted anyway.
He jerked his head toward the bed. She was here, might as well do her.
She flew onto the bed, relieved, excited, both, who knew. She lay on her back,
her long luscious, ebony legs open in invitation.
He took his time taking off his clothes, not a striptease, just still not in the
mood. She took in a hard breath as he took off his shirt, and gasped when he
removed his slacks and underwear. He wasn’t hard, but he knew she wasn’t faking.
They never did with him, he was sure of it.
His original thought was that he’d bend her over the bureau, lift up her dress,
fuck her, and send her on her way. Fast and hard, leaving her panting and wanting
more. Make her beg to come back, the way she’d begged to be here now. Yet he
wasn’t sure he was ready, and he wasn’t going to bend her over and not be able to
follow through. So it was to be the bed.
She smiled, a hint of anxiety, mixed with relief. “I’ve waited so long for this.
You’ve been driving me crazy all this time, making me suffer.”
So she knew. He wasn’t surprised, he never went for the dumb ones, no matter
how good they looked. “You like the suffering?”
A shot of worry crossed her face, maybe wondering if was talking about being
rough. “Within reason.”
“Whose reason?”
“Mine, of course.”
He didn’t respond, and he could see a different worry come over her, a worry
that she wouldn’t give him what he wanted. That he’d turn her down because
she’d disappointed him, even before they had started.
“Yours too,” she said.
“Too?”
Her eyes turned away, then back. “Yours,” she said, submitting.
Damian nodded. Not enough yet, but better. He still hadn’t gone to the bed.
“Touch yourself.”
She hastened to comply, her hand moving quickly between her legs, no show
of a tease now. Her fingers came away wet, and she moaned, as if she were
surprised, perhaps coming to the realization that a little suffering was something
she’d like.
She wasn’t going to get that from him. Shove his cock in her mouth, ram it in
her ass, sure. But the idea of other kinds of pain did nothing for him, and no
matter how much she wanted it, he wouldn’t give it to her. Make her suffer in his
denial.
That was a good thought, so he waited until she was good and worked up
before he got in the bed.
She reached for him, but he pushed her way. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
If she wondered if he was just going to watch, she didn’t let on, she was too
aroused now, her pussy smacking with her wetness. He usually liked this part, but
mostly after he’d already fucked them, let them see how turned on they could get
without even him touching them. He’d made Emily come like that a few times,
and she’d come again and again, even after she said she was too sore and too
sensitive. Then he’d fuck her into yet another orgasm.
“Please,” said the woman, “I—want you in me.”
Now would be an even better time to leave. Still, he did enjoy this part, the
unmasking of the hidden needs. “Why?”
“I—I’ve come this far. I’m here. I can’t not have you now.”
“Why?” he repeated.
“It’s all I think about. You’re all I think about.”
“So if I fuck you, you aren’t going to think about me any more?”
“No, I—”
“I told you not to stop.” He didn’t have to raise his voice.
She abandoned her clit, pushing her fingers in her pussy, a very poor substitute
for a cock, and they both knew it. “You’re making me suffer again.”
“If I fuck you, you’ll be thinking of me more, not less. You’ll want more.”
She shook her head, but her fingers moved deeper inside.
“You’ll do anything to get more.”
“I already am,” she whispered.
“This is only the start,” he said. “If I want it to be.” He pushed her hands away
from her pussy, and she let out a frustrated wail. “Tell me what you’ll be willing
to do for me.”
Her mouth was set in a hard line, her resistance, but her eyes were pleading.
“You haven’t even touched me. What if I don’t like it? What if we are no good?”
Then, because a dwindling piece of her strength insisted, she added, “What if you
are no good?”
“You’ll never know if you don’t tell me what you’d be willing to do.”
She leaned forward for a kiss, but he turned his head.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “It depends on what you’d do.” This was better. Still not
good enough for him, but better.
Her mouth quivered, her eyes darkening. Damian could see the battle playing
out inside her like it was a movie. “Anything,” she whispered.
“Now that we understand each other,” he said. He grabbed her arm and flipped
her over on her stomach. “Spread you legs.”
She did as she was told, her full, yet firm ass and dark pink pussy both targets.
Yet even with her submission, even with her brains and elegance and willingness
to do whatever he wanted, he still wasn’t ready. His cock lay against his thigh,
mocking him.
He’d never been like this before Emily.
He wasn’t going to lick this woman, especially not in this position, but he’d
turned her over, and wasn’t going to stop now. His mind kept jumping to Emily.
He would have licked her in this position.
The woman’s body was so different it was distracting him from thinking of
Emily. Emily with her tight ass, her slim thighs, her light skin. Damian felt the
first stirring in his cock, and it had nothing to do with the wet and willing woman
trembling under him.
He leaned over and turned out the light.
Better.
Now he could focus on the other woman, the woman he wanted. Emily.
His cock stiffened, the tip touching the woman’s ass. She moaned, pressing up
against him. “Do it,” she whispered.
Damian rode his cock up and down her ass. It was a good ass, but even his
cock knew it wasn’t the same.
He grabbed the bedcover and threw it over her back, covering her ass. “What?”
she murmured, surprised.
“Shut up.”
She groaned but again did as she was told. He closed his eyes, something he
rarely did, he really did like to watch. Not tonight.
It still wasn’t working. Emily was in his head, but the woman was in the bed.
She pushed her ass back up at him, her body demanding what he wasn’t ready to
give.
He didn’t want her, he wanted Emily. As he had ever since the first time he had
seen her, that day in the pool. Back then, he thought she’d be like all the others, to
be taken, to be forgotten. Her challenge had been greater, yet it had made the
conquest all the sweeter.
It didn’t seem as much like a conquest now.
Frustrated at his lack of an erection, frustrated that the woman beneath him
wasn’t the woman he wanted, he grunted and pushed the covers all the way over
her, covering her entire body, even her head.
This time she didn’t question him, didn’t speak at all. But he could feel her
body’s demand.
He reached for his phone on the night table, flicking fast, pulling up a photo of
Emily. Not the one of her on her knees sucking him in the office, but one he’d
taken when he had fucked her in just this position, spread out under him, offering
herself up, telling him with her body he could take her wherever he wanted.
That worked, as it always did. His cock hardened immediately. He didn’t have
to even move, his stiffening shaft found its way into the woman. She shivered
beneath him, lifting her hips, wanting more.
His eyes on Emily, he drove into the woman, and she screamed into the sheets,
pulling the cover tightly over her head to muffle her uncontrolled shriek.
His body took over, and he fucked her. She came in seconds, shuddering
beneath him, all her vows washed away with her wetness.
He fucked her for a long time, not because he necessarily wanted to, but
because even with her moans, even with her tightness, even with the thought he’d
send her home to her husband with a pussy full of cum, she still wasn’t doing it
for him.
She came again, her voice shaking, she might have been crying. He didn’t care.
His thrusts slowed, he was losing interest, even her heat not enough to keep him
going. She squeezed her pussy against his cock, pushing against him, fucking him
now, she wanted him to come, otherwise she’d wonder if she’d let him down.
“Please,” she said, her voice muffled by the cover.
“Please what.”
“Come in me!”
“Why?”
She moved the cover aside. “I—I want—”
He gave her a few hard strokes to spur her on. What would she admit?
“I want—”
He drove into her until she screamed again.
“I want your baby!”
Even the thought of getting this woman pregnant, of her sitting on her
husband’s face, her pregnant bulge mocking him, didn’t do it for him. He flicked
through to another picture of Emily, another image he had secretly taken, a photo
of her with her hand on her swollen belly, looking at herself in the mirror. And
smiling.
Blood flowed to his cock. He set the phone down on the bed, his face close to
Emily. With his hands firmly planted he drove into the woman.
“Make me pregnant!”
Over and over again she begged, not as Emily would, yet in his mind her voice
transformed to Emily’s, and only then did he shoot his seed into her, and just like
Emily would have, just like Emily had done over and over, she came again, her
pussy constricting against his cock, demanding every drop of his cum.
He rolled off her, grabbing his phone and heading for the bath, ignoring the
woman’s protestations.
In the bathroom he set the phone down on the counter. He didn’t need to look
again at the photo of Emily, she was firmly in his mind now. Yet he looked
anyway.
In the shower he washed away the juices and the memory of the woman. He’d
already half forgotten what she looked like.
The hot water ran down his back, reminding him of other showers, showers
with Emily, her admissions of fantasizing about him in a shower, even before they
had been together.
He turned the hot water all the way to the max, yet it still felt cold on his skin,
nothing could compete with the heat which just the memory of Emily brought to
him. His hand went to his cock, and even over the thrash of the shower he could
hear her voice, enticing him to touch himself.
 Not begging.
He did as she wanted, as he wanted, and jerked himself off.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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