“It’s your life, sweetheart, but you can’t deny one thing – he’s good for you.” There was certainty and confidence in her mother’s voice. “I’ve never seen you cling to anyone before. You always kept people, especially boys, at arm’s length. If your date was 15 minutes late, you went out on your own for the night. You never tolerated five minutes of bullshit from anyone. He taught you the meaning of commitment. And he worships you. Anyone can see how much he loves you. He has so much going for him, Alyssa. He’s a talented musician, he’s sweet and sexy and he’s polite and he adores you.”
It all made sense, but she still wasn’t ready to marry Damien. “Since when are you so quick to jump on the marriage bandwagon? You’ve never remarried or stuck out a long-term relationship.”
“Look at my life. I travel all the time. I’m in the studio twelve to fifteen hours a day painting, sometimes. I date, but I don’t have time for a steady relationship.”
It was a cop-out, and her mother knew that she saw right through her answer.
“OK, you got me.” The melancholy look in her mother’s eyes wasn’t something that appeared often. “I never remarried because no one ever lived up to your father’s memory. I drown myself in my work to forget. We all have our vices.”
Her mother was always happy and jovial. She had no idea the loss of her father was still fresh in her mother’s heart after almost twenty years. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“No need to be sorry. I have a great life. The point I was trying to make is that you never know where life is headed. Reach out and grab it with both hands. When it’s right, you know it. And your relationship with Damien – it’s right.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alyssa watched Damien from the bedroom doorway. He was in bed with the sheet up to his waist. His bare chest flexed every time he plucked at the strings of his bass. Her mother’s words from earlier in the day echoed in her head. Alyssa knew how well she and Damien complemented one another, and she would never be happy without him. The few weeks they were apart were the loneliest of her life. She wasn’t the same person she was ten months ago when she first met Damien. The independent girl who was perfectly happy living life on her own terms, without anyone to answer to, now wanted someone to share her days and nights with. That someone was Damien.
“You watchin’ me?” The intense concentration that Damien exhibited never indicated he noticed she was in the doorway, but he knew.
“Yeah.” She crawled along the bed until she was kneeling next to him, but he still didn’t look up from his bass. Her hand silenced the strings.
Damien’s head popped up. “Don’t ever touch my bass.”
It was one way to get his attention. “Oh, really?” Her raised brows and rigid shoulders challenged him.
“Really.” He was trying so hard to act stern, but there was no hardness in his eyes. His jaw was set, but she saw the tiny smile peeking out of the corners of his mouth. She took the bass by the neck and pulled it off of his lap. It was heavier than she expected and she almost dropped it on the bed, but she gently caught it, careful not to scratch the paint. Once it was securely seated in its stand next to the bed, she turned back to him. Her hands were on her hips and her head was held high. “I disarmed you. Now what are you going to do?”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her across his lap. Before she realized what was happening, he yanked her boy shorts down to her thighs and slapped her bare bottom. She rolled with laughter and struggled to crawl off of him, but he held her prisoner.
“Don’t fight me,” he warned, placing another stinging slap on her butt. “Are you gonna touch my bass again?”
“That depends.” She perched herself up on her elbows in anticipation of the next strike. “Are you going to play your bass instead of playing with me?”
“Now you’re mouthing off, huh?” He pulled the boy shorts the rest of the way down her legs and threw them to the floor.
Two quick slaps landed on each butt cheek in succession. Even though she was waiting for them, she didn’t expect a rhythm, and shocked laughter spilled from her throat.
“You think that’s funny?”
He was feigning irritation and anger, but she recognized the playful tone disguised in his voice, and she laughed harder. Three consecutive slaps silenced her. The game suddenly turned erotic. The sting of his hand burned into her flesh and sent a bolt of heat between her legs. Her body responded with a tingle that made her shudder, and she felt wetness between her thighs. She sighed and melted into the bed and across his lap.
Both of his hands caressed her butt cheeks, then his warm lips were on them. First one side, then the other. One hand feathered across her lower back, while the other slipped between her legs. His fingers found their way inside her, and she gasped at the sudden penetration. She arched her back and pressed herself into him, gyrating her hips so he hit the spot inside her that sent her head reeling.
He rolled her onto her back and kissed her. His magnificent hands – the same hands that brought soul-grinding music to life – were all over her. They were in her hair, on her breasts, on her waist, and on her inner thighs. His lips followed and licked a hot trail down the center of her chest, past her navel, and right between her legs. There was no hesitation, no lingering of his lips, just a quick stripe of his wet tongue down her body. She wiggled and shivered while his tongue swirled in glorious circles. His fingers were inside her, massaging and curling into the muscles, creating an ache that made her cry out. His fingers galloped over her flesh and his thumb plucked at her clit. There was a rhythm to his movements. There was a pattern of regular pulses coming from his fingers. It was a steadfast repetition. His thumb tugged on her clit followed by his three fingers beating in succession against her hot pussy. Her breath came in short gasps and shockwaves reverberated through her body every time his thumb hit her clit. She took another gulp of air, and it finally hit her – he was plucking her pussy like he plucked his bass. It became an erotic charge to know he was using her as his instrument, and it pushed her to the edge of ecstasy.
Just before she was about to fall victim to his touch, he left her and stood at the edge of the bed. She whimpered for his return and called him back with her outstretched arms.
His cheeks pulled back in a small grin as he opened the top drawer of her nightstand to retrieve one of her toys. He selected a vibrator in the shape of a flesh-colored penis. The familiar hum made her sigh and brought a new surge of heat to her flesh. She raised her knees and planted her feet flat on the bed. Spreading her arms wide across the width of the mattress, she waited for Damien to finish her off. The warm rubber slid inside her without resistance. The buzzing vibration, accompanied by Damien’s luscious tongue, licking and sucking her clit, sent her lower half into a rumbling frenzy. His mouth worked in unison with the toy, sending undulating spasms of pleasure deep inside her. Her chest rose and fell with heavy sighs that left her breathless. Her body shook, and her eyes fluttered, blocking out the light above. A thunderbolt erupted insider her. It started from her crotch and soared through her chest like rippling waves of electricity. She jolted upward with a loud gasp, then fell back on the mattress panting and out of breath from an orgasm that rocked her to her core.
Damien tossed the vibrator aside and took over with his mouth. His tongue poked inside her, swirled in a circle, and continually pumped in and out of her body. He licked her with long strokes from her opening all the way to the top of her clit and settled there twisting his tongue one way and then the other.
Her body was on fire and trembling with sensations that multiplied by the second. His tongue brought her to a new height of ecstasy. She was lightheaded and hyperventilating from her erratic breathing. The room was spinning, and her cries left her throat sore. It was an overload of pleasure and she couldn’t take any more. She needed to catch her breath. “Please . . . stop. I can’t . . . breathe.”
Damien didn’t slow down or hesitate. He submerged his face further between he
r legs, and his tongue dug deeper, sending another wave of intense heat through her body. She shuddered and convulsed. Her chest was heaving. Sweat covered her forehead and her chest and her back. She pushed her hands through her hair and jerked her head back. Her breaths were so deep she thought her lungs would explode. It was too much. The sensation wouldn’t stop. Her nervous system was overworked and about to short circuit. She propelled herself forward and caught Damien’s face between her hands, stilling his magnificent mouth. “God, you’re killing me!”
He slowly lifted his head. His mouth was slightly open and covered with a ring of wetness. His eyes were glazed over with intense bliss as he stared up at her. “Did you say something?” he whispered.
She let her head roll back between her shoulder blades and laughed. He was an amazing lover!
Damien licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he kissed her. His tongue was still on a rampage and invaded her mouth with the same ferocity in which it just assaulted her pussy. She needed to break free in order to breathe. His lips latched onto her neck and sucked in a mouthful of flesh while his tongue swirled against her skin.
She was still trying to catch her breath when he slipped his cock inside her. She jerked at the renewed surge of endorphins. His hips gently rocked her, then slammed into her with such force it pushed them both up toward the top of the bed, and she banged her head on the headboard. Her body never had a chance to recover, and she rode through an endless surge of euphoria. She was helpless and flopped underneath Damien’s body with each thrust of his hips until he let out a loud moan and fell on top of her.
Their bodies melted into one another, and she wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his heart beating into her chest. It was a beautiful rhythm that echoed inside her and joined them together. Damien buried his face into the crook of her neck while they both gasped for air to cool down their overheated bodies. The bright blue of Damien’s starched hair blocked her vision, and the scent of his hairspray choked her. She began to laugh and rolled him over so he was on his back. She nestled in his arms and her breathing slowly regulated back to normal.
It felt right. The conversation with her mother made sense now. She needed to trust her heart and let her head catch up later. She looked up at Damien and kissed him. “I want to marry you,” she whispered.
Damien shuffled a few inches away so he could see her clearly. Surprise and shock made his eyes widen like saucers. “What did you just say?”
“I said, I want to marry you. I love you, Damien. We’re right together, and I never thought I’d have that with someone.”
“You’re serious? You’d marry me?” The smile across his face was widening by the second.
“Yes.” A giddy laugh flew from her mouth. “But not right this minute. Soon, though. I don’t want to wait too long.” Her mother’s words echoed in her head. “When it’s right, you know it. You have to reach out and grab what you want in life. Don’t let it pass you by.” Alyssa pulled Damien close and brushed her lips against his.
“I can’t believe you said you’d marry me.” Damien’s voice was crackling. “I love you so much, Alyssa. You changed my life in so many ways. You brought light into my dark world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He stared into her eyes with such intensity it was like he was reaching into her soul, reading her thoughts and listening to her heart. They were going to be married. A smile slowly crept onto her lips.
Damien smiled back. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m just excited. I’m going to be Alyssa Diamond!”
He nodded. “I like it.”
She scrambled to her knees and faced him. “Let’s celebrate.”
He looked down at their naked bodies. “I thought we just did.”
“I have something else in mind.” She traced a trail down his body with her fingernail and stopped at the tip of his cock. “It might involve my needle.”
Damien brought himself up on his elbows. “Really? You’re going to give me a Prince Albert?”
She nodded. “As long as you’re sure you can go without sex for a couple of weeks. It has to heal, Damien.”
“Let’s do it. It’ll be my engagement ring.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You got yourself a deal.”
Alyssa showered first to cleanse the sweat from her body. While Damien was still in the bathroom, she placed a fresh white sheet down on the bed and gathered her supplies. They were all neatly lined up on top of a surgical pad by the time Damien finished his shower.
He stopped as soon as he saw the display on top of the bed. “Holy shit. You’re really gonna do it.”
“Are you chickening out? Having second thoughts?”
“Never.”
He dropped the towel from his waist and jumped on the bed. With his legs wide open and leaning back on his hands, he waited. His eyes eagerly darted over the instruments, probably contemplating each one’s involvement in the process.
Alyssa snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ready or not, we’re getting started.”
“You know I’m ready.” He pushed himself back so he was leaning against the headboard, and he sat up so he could watch.
She swabbed his half-hard cock with Betadine, vigorously washing the entire head. Normally, she didn’t put forth such a rigorous cleaning, but since it was Damien, she gave it extra attention just for the fun of it. By the time she was done, his erection was rock solid and standing up straight. “I can do this with one hand,” she joked.
He was so engrossed in watching her that he didn’t respond. He was in a trance watching her every move, envisioning what was going to happen next and mesmerized by the procedure. His reaction stirred something inside her. Excitement was building with each step.
Most men looked away and grimaced the second they sat in her chair, but Damien watched with a ravenous hunger. After she marked the precise location, she gently inserted the warmed, lubricated tube, a short way into the urethra. He let out a quivering breath, not from pain, but from pleasure. The penetration was uncomfortable at most, but left most men queasy – not Damien. He enjoyed the slender insertion. She knew she needed to be quick. She aligned the tube with the mark and glanced up at Damien. His lips were parted slightly, and his wet tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. It left a dot of moisture, like a dog salivating for his next meal. His eyes were half closed and glazed over, while his chest puffed deep breaths into his lungs.
She quickly pierced through the mark with her needle and followed through with the jewelry. She got done just in time. Damien leaned his head back and moaned. It was deep and guttural and lingered while it wound down to a soft sigh. His body shuddered and hot liquid spurted through the freshly-pierced head of his cock.
“I was ready for that,” she said as she wiped up the semen that spattered across his stomach.
Another soft moan left his lips. His shoulders slipped off the pillow and he started to roll onto his side.
“Sit back up.” She laughed at the blissful smile on his face and his unfocused blank stare. “C’mon. Don’t you want to see it?”
He snapped to attention, righted himself on the bed and smiled down at his new jewelry. “It’s beautiful.”
She gathered everything onto the surgical pad and placed it on her dresser to deal with later. Right now she wanted to lie in bed with her man. Piercing always gave her a little charge. She enjoyed pushing a sharp needle through unsuspecting flesh and creating art on someone’s body. Piercing Damien brought it to another level. It was an act of intimacy. She snuggled in bed next to him and kissed his cheek. “Did it hurt?”
He shook his head. “I can’t describe how it felt. It was like everything inside me rushed straight to that spot where you hit me with the needle – all at once. I think I was blinded by a surge of adrenaline. My heart was beating twice as fast as it should. It scared me for a second. I don’t remember what happened after that. I just heard you ask me if I wanted to se
e it.”
She admired her work. Now he had two piercings – the Prince Albert at the head of his cock, and the lorum at the base just above his sac. They were balanced. “It does look really nice.”
“I . . . kind of feel bad that we can’t fool around, now. How long do we have to wait?”
She chuckled. “You have to wait a few weeks. I can get off right now. I hope your tongue is up to the challenge, because it will be spending a lot of time between my legs.”
“I can deal with that.”
After the lashing his tongue just gave her pussy, she wasn’t so sure if she could handle it.
He pulled her closer and nuzzled her cheek. He was quiet for several minutes. “So much happened today. I got a new name. We’re gonna get married. And I finally got my Prince Albert. There’s so much ahead for us – so much to look forward to. I can’t imagine how far life is gonna take us.”
Chapter Thirty
365th day of sobriety
Alyssa stood before the full length mirror and gazed at her reflection. She was probably the only woman who wore black on her wedding day, but white and frilly just wasn’t her thing. The black lace bodice had thin spaghetti straps and topped a short leather, ballerina-type skirt. Fishnet stockings graced her legs in a wide, open crisscross pattern, and she opted for the knee-high boots instead of the thigh-high ones that she knew Damien would have preferred. She thought about changing her boots, but decided against it. It was her wedding day, and she needed to preserve at least a little bit of purity.
“My little girl is getting married.” The tear in her mother’s eye took Alyssa by surprise.
They weren’t emotional people, but the sentiment twisted Alyssa’s heart and caused a lump in her throat. “Don’t cry, Mom.”
“I’m trying not to.” Her mother fanned her eyes with her hands. “Otherwise, I’ll mess up my eyeliner, and we’ll be late because I’ll have to fix my makeup.” Her cell phone buzzed, and she smiled when she looked at the screen. “That’s the driver. Your car’s here. Are you ready to go meet your groom?”
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