The CEO Couldn't Walk, But I Made Him Fall For Me

Perfect For Each Other

Author's Note: This chapter contains explicit s****l content 18+.

Reader discretion is advised.

Damian

“Please… Arabella… I need to taste you…”

The words slipped before I could catch them. Heat pulsed low in my gut. I needed her to feel how deeply I wanted her—how every soft curve, every quiet breath, every shy glance had lived under my skin for months. She was mine to worship, and I intended to map her with my mouth until she knew it too.

She nodded.

That single, trembling yes shattered the last of my control. I claimed her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, tasting the faint sweetness of her lip balm and the warmer salt of her skin. My tongue slid against hers; she answered with a soft, broken sound that vibrated through me. I rolled us so she straddled my hips, the weight of her settling perfectly against the hard ridge of my c**k. Fabric rasped. Her thighs were warm and smooth as silk against my sides.

I dragged open-mouthed kisses across her face—the delicate bridge of her nose, the flushed apples of her cheeks, the sensitive shell of her ear. She shivered when my breath ghosted there. Lower, I followed the elegant line of her throat, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse against my lips. I set my teeth carefully, sucking until a faint mark bloomed. The scent of her skin—warm vanilla and clean soap mixed with something uniquely hers—filled my lungs. Her skin tasted faintly sweet, almost like warm honey under my tongue.

I peeled her T-shirt upward, the soft cotton whispering over her arms. The sight of her stopped my breath. Pale breasts, full and soft, tipped in the prettiest dusty-pink n*****s already tightening in the cooler air. I lowered my head and took one into my mouth, the texture of her skin delicate against my tongue. I suckled slowly, drawing a low moan from her throat that vibrated against my lips. My free hand cupped the other breast, thumb stroking the hardened peak in slow circles while my fingers gently kneaded the soft weight of her.

“Damian…”

The way she breathed my name—low, needy, almost broken—sent a sharp pulse straight to my c**k. I wanted that sound every night for the rest of my life.

I kissed lower, tasting the warm valley between her breasts, the faint salt of her skin. When I reached the waistband of her shorts I tugged them down her legs, the fabric sliding over smooth thighs. Beneath, a thin white thong clung to her, the front already darkened with arousal. The sight made my mouth water. I traced one fingertip along the damp fabric; the heat of her soaked through the thin material. She arched, hips lifting, a soft, needy sound escaping her throat.

“You like that?” I murmured, voice rough. I watched her face with open fascination—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes half-lidded. “You want me to taste you, baby? Tell me what you need.”

“Yes…” Her voice was already husky, almost trembling.

“Say my name.”

“Damian… please…”

The plea stroked over my nerves like a physical touch. My c**k jerked hard inside my pants.

“Okay, baby. Look how you're perfectly made for me...”

I hooked my fingers under the thin straps and drew the thong down. The scent of her arousal—warm, intimate, faintly sweet—rose between us. I settled between her thighs, hands sliding under her hips to tilt her toward my mouth. The first long, slow drag of my tongue through her folds made us both groan. She tasted even better than I had imagined: clean, slightly sweet, addictive. I licked deeper, pushing my tongue inside her, feeling the silky heat of her walls flutter around me. Her hips jerked; her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to sting in the best way.

I watched her while I worked—messy dark hair fanned across the pillow, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glow on her collarbones, lips parted on soft, pleading sounds. I circled her c**t with the flat of my tongue, then sucked gently, feeling the little bud swell against my lips. My fingers joined, two of them sliding into her carefully. She was tight, hot, the wet silk of her gripping me as I curled them against that sensitive spot inside.

“You’re so tight, baby,” I rasped against her. “So f*****g perfect.”

Her breathing turned ragged. “I’m coming—I’m coming—”

I sealed my mouth over her and drank every pulse of her orgasm, the rhythmic clench of her walls around my fingers, the fresh flood of sweetness across my tongue. The broken cry of my name, the way her thighs trembled against my ears—I wanted to lock the image away forever.

When her eyes opened again they were dark, glassy with lingering heat and fresh hunger.

“Damian?”

“Yes, wifey?”

“f**k me. I need you inside me… now.”

I didn’t make her ask twice. Pants and boxers shoved down, shirt stripped by her eager hands. Cool air kissed my overheated skin. My c**k stood heavy and flushed, a clear bead of pre-c*m already glistening at the tip. Her eyes widened; a deeper flush climbed her cheeks and the tops of her breasts. I grinned, voice low and rough with affection.

“What? I might have been injured once, but this part of me never stopped working.”

She covered her face for a heartbeat, embarrassed and aroused all at once. I guided the broad head of my c**k to her entrance and held still, sliding through the slick heat of her folds without pushing in. The wet sound of it was filthy and perfect.

“Look at me, baby. Watch me take you. The only man who’s ever going to be inside you is me. Understand?”

“Yes… yes, Damian. Only you.”

I pressed forward, inch by careful inch. The tight, scorching grip of her body opened around me, stretching to take every ridge and vein. Heat. Silk. Home. A low groan tore from my chest as I sank deeper. She was impossibly warm, the flutter of her inner walls already fluttering around the intrusion.

“You’re so big… so deep…” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Shh. Take all of me. Be a good girl and open for me.”

I waited, kissing the corner of her mouth, breathing in the mixed scent of her arousal and clean sweat until the last of the resistance melted and I was fully seated. The sensation was pure ecstasy—nothing existed outside the place where we joined.

“You feel so good, baby,” I murmured against her lips. “You take me so damn well. Feel how you clench around me…”

I began to move—slow, deep strokes that dragged every sensitive inch of me through her. The wet, soft sound of our bodies meeting filled the quiet room. Her legs tightened around my waist; her nails scraped lightly down my back, leaving faint trails of heat. I found the angle that made her gasp every time the head of my c**k stroked that perfect spot inside her, and I stayed there, thrusting with steady, deliberate force.

“I’m coming… Damian—”

“Me too, baby.”

I drove harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin sharper now. Her body seized around me in long, rhythmic pulses. The pressure at the base of my spine detonated. Pleasure ripped through me so intensely my vision white-edged as I spilled deep inside her, filling her while she fluttered and shuddered beneath me.

I collapsed carefully over her, careful of my weight, heart hammering against her breast. Her skin was damp and flushed, the soft pink of her cheeks glowing. Her mouth stayed parted as she tried to catch her breath; the rapid rise and fall of her chest brushed my own. The scent of s*x and warm skin hung between us.

“Baby… let’s wash up, then bed.”

She was already half-drifting, eyelids heavy.

“Together?” she asked, voice small and sleepy.

“Yeah. Together.”

I carried her into the bathroom, the cool tile a contrast to our overheated skin. Warm water sluiced over us as I washed her gently—soft strokes of a soapy cloth across her shoulders, down the curve of her spine, between her thighs where my release and hers mixed. She dozed against my chest, trusting and pliant. I dried her with a thick towel, the fabric whispering over damp skin, then lifted her again and carried her back to the bed.

I pulled one of my soft T-shirts over her head; the cotton settled against her bare body. I tugged my own pants back on and settled us under the covers. She curled against my chest, one leg draped over mine, her cheek pressed to my heartbeat. The room smelled of our mixed scent and the lingering warmth of what we had just shared. Her breathing slowed, evening out against my skin.

We drifted into sleep still tangled together—skin to skin, hearts slowing in the quiet after, the memory of her taste and the sound of my name on her lips still vivid behind my closed eyes.