37: Fantasy
***Mild Sexual content***
**Damon**
I tossed the sheets off of my body, irritated at the heat of them against my skin. I was already hot and bothered with her infesting my mind and did not need the suffocating sheets making it worse. Slowly, I ran my hands down my chest down to my underwear where I slipped them beneath the thin fabric, grabbing at myself. I whimpered slightly at the sudden contact of my hands against my throbbing length and then moved my body deeper into the bed to get myself a little more comfortable. Slowly, I moved my hands up and down along my shaft and to the tip as I closed my eyes and pictured her hands around me instead. I let out a few heavy pants, moving faster and faster, wishing now, that I could feel the heavenly sensation of her warm, wet mouth sucking at me, and her tongue wrapping around me. To my surprise, I felt the sudden touch of familiar hands against mine and opened my eyes quickly revealing Jasmine who smirked up at me. She was, no doubt, a figment of my imagination and, as she slipped her hands underneath mine, against the skin of my throbbing shaft, I knew that this all had to be a dream. Nonetheless, it felt as real as it needed to be, and instead of fighting my imagination off, I embraced it as I had done so many times before.
"Are you all pent up, Damon?" She asked, removing one of her hands from me and raking it up the skin of my chest.
“Yes…” I moaned out breathily, “it’s all your fault.”
"Then”−she began, before taking her hands off of me completely and wearing a mischievous smile upon her face which sent shivers and waves of pleasure through me−"I need to take responsibility, don't I?"
And with that, she placed her mouth on my tip, just lapping at it ever so softly. She was teasing me, and I found myself basking in the euphoric frustration. Eventually, however, I grew too frustrated with her soft, teasing strokes and so I grabbed her by her hair and pushed her head down, allowing most of my length to slide into her mouth, almost reaching the back of her throat. As I felt the slipperiness of the walls of her mouth enclosing around me, I let out a loud, desperate moan and cussed under my breath. Jasmine, who now had caught on to the extent of my horniness, twirled her tongue around me roughly and started bobbing her head up and down. It had me arching my back slightly and tossing my head back onto the pillow as heavy, slightly high-pitched moans and groans emitted from my throat. I could feel the build-up and the tension forming in my lower stomach and growing ever so intense. I loved the way she knew just what to do to me.
"Ah, fuck Jasmine, I'm so close."
She smirked and, to my disappointment, removed her mouth from me, leaving me in heavy pants, practically begging, "D-don't stop!"
She slowly got on all fours, and she started crawling towards me with this deep, intense look in her eyes which held me frozen in place. "You were not a good boy." Her words only tightened the tension in my stomach. "You dared to touch me while I was pleasing you." I should have known my frustration had its fair share of consequences. I was not complaining though and stayed silent as she leaned down with her lips inches away from mine. Her lips, along with her outrageously sweet scent had my mouth salivating profusely, wanting to taste her skin. This only increased when she sexily bit at her lip. Then finally, she granted me the privilege of tasting her when she placed her lips on mine. Jasmine Spectra was no doubt my weakness, and, when she did things like this, my body surrendered every inch of itself to her almost instinctively. Perhaps it was the way her eyes captivated me, or her touches drove me mad. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating enough to have her doing the dirtiest things to me in my dreams as well. Our intimate little performance was, however cut short when I awoke to the loud ringing of my phone next to me on the bedside table. I took a few deep breaths− I’d begun panting in real life−and once I had gained some composure, picked up the phone, half frustrated, half blushing. "Hello?"
"The Mirage, 11 p.m. sharp," was all I heard, before the call was cut. I growled out, slightly in frustration at the curt call. It was strange working for someone, especially Jared. It was, however, what I thought to be the only way to keep dangerous people, like Andrew, away from Jasmine. It was not that I did not trust her to look after herself. Perhaps it was before, but, after seeing her in action, it was all too clear that she had things handled. Instead, it was to bring myself some peace of mind and I knew that even Jasmine Spectra needed some help sometimes, although I suspected she'd never admit it.
I decided on a quick shower before I went to the Mirage, it was a casino and hotel just a few minutes away from here, an easily accessible point for everyone who, by Jared's instruction, had stayed in different hotels located a fair distance from each other. Each hotel housed at least one of us, and at most, three of us, so as to make us not too suspicious. I doubted that Andrew was currently following us, his eyes were probably set on Jasmine. But it was apparent that Macy and Andrew were in two different places since we had been tracking the same people for the past few days and, although we saw Macy, we hadn’t seen Andrew.
I took a cold shower to get rid of the heat and the lingering feeling of Jasmine's touch. Thereafter I got dressed into a black dress shirt, with the two first few buttons undone, a black blazer and a pair of neat, black trousers. On my feet were a pair of polished, black leather shoes. I practically lived in formal and semi-formal attire given my job, and it now became an unconscious habit to always dress my best.
Once I was happy with my appearance in the mirror and had smoothed my black hair down, I grabbed my cell phone, keys and my wallet. I went down to the entrance of the hotel and waited patiently for the valet, checking my watch every so often. I prided myself on my punctuality and developed the habit of becoming irritable when I ran late.
The valet was late by a few minutes. And so, after he handed me my car keys, I gave in to my habit and yelled his ear off. Jasmine may have softened me up, but I was still ‘Mr Michaels’ when I needed to be.
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