Damon really wasn’t sure if he agreed completely. He did relinquish his spot at the ocean for a seat on the sofa. He leaned into the cushions. “What would I know about faithfulness anyway? I’ve never been faithful to anything, not anyone I’ve dated, except Elena, and not even family. Then again, there weren’t really feelings involved. Feelings are messy, but I suppose it’s about time I gave in to them.”
“I don’t really think the two things are related, at least when it comes to your dreams. Maybe a little on the outside.” The dreams were complicated enough, and brought demons that one shouldn’t know they had, as if life wasn’t full of it’s own complications. “I think you like the experimentation, a little BDSM, but you want to keep a little of yourself in there. Full submission is not easy, and forced submission is even more fucked up.”
“While I can deal with a good deal of submission, I like someone who isn’t a pure submissive, and who can challenge me as easily as I can challenge them.” He wanted someone who could give as much as he did, who wasn’t afraid to take control. There were times when he wanted to just enjoy the ride.
Samandriel closed his eyes tightly. “We need to stop having this conversation,” he said softly, “I don’t want to break your promises for you and you’re making it rather difficult for my overactive imagination to manage restraint.” Overactive was, perhaps, an understatement. Samandriel was Imagination itself. Even though he was fighting it, he could still see things that might happen. Himself and Damon, snarling, fighting, feathers ending up scattered in a few different places and then finally, finally the vampire pinned on his back so that Samandriel could ride him. The shifting as he leaned forward and allowed Damon to both bite and take control. It was far too vivid behind his eyelids and the young angel was well aware that the soft whimper that forced itself out of his throat was very much not his imagination.
Damon’s response was simple. He leaned back into the cushions, dark hair crossing a handsome brow. Dark brows punctuated those striking blue eyes. Dark stubble framed pillowy lips that held the usual smirk. At the angel’s gaze, his lips parted enough to reveal the fangs. He understood the meaning well enough, and waited for the time that the hunger would take control.