A Tempting Arrangement (Twisted Vows Book 1)

16. Misty

Dread formsin my stomach at the sound of Carter’s knock, knowing this is a mistake before I even open the door. Every fiber in my being screams at me that this is wrong. That no matter how many times I tell myself Damon has no hold on me, I know that’s a lie. That even though he’s a controlling, egotistical asshole who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, some part of me has latched onto him. Wants exactly what he’s offering and is more than willing to pay the cost. There’s this cord that draws me to him, pulls me right back to his side whenever I dare to walk away. A part of me craves to know what it’s like to be his, to let him own a piece of me.

“Misty?” Carter knocks again.

I twist the door open. There’s nothing left to do. I’ll just let him in and explain that I’m not feeling well, apologize for wasting his time and never speak of this again.

I open the door, revealing the over six-feet-tall hockey player. He’s dressed casually but nice. Polo collared shirt, dark-washed jeans. I can’t help but compare him to Damon, and he comes up lacking. Accepting the inevitable awkwardness, I invite him in.

Carter’s gaze trails up my legs, over the short hem of my deep purple dress, and finally to my face. His eyes are hooded, and his tongue skates over his lips. I shudder, revulsion turning my stomach. I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes, but this is near the top.

I have to get rid of him, but I can’t break my carefully crafted persona. I’m the chipper, happy girl, not the complaining, teasing you on a date girl. I fire off a quick text to Mia, telling her to call me in five. She hits thumbs-up on my message.

Carter’s looking at me, his head tilted. Crap. I’ve totally been ignoring him. I clear my throat. “Want a beer?”

A slow smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I could use something to loosen up a bit.”

That’s the last thing I want to do, but I just need to stall for the next few minutes, and this mistake will be over. Plus, I doubt he thinks we were just going to bang the second he got here. I grab his beer from the fridge, the steel can cool against my palm, and pass it to him.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” he asks.

The whole atmosphere is off, and it’s obvious even to him. He’s no doubt wondering why I invited him here. He steps toward me, closing the distance until his toes reach mine.

“You don’t need to be nervous. Forget about the hockey stuff. I’m just a regular guy.” He says it so sure of himself that I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

Of course he thinks I’m intimidated by his “greatness.” I swear, it’s a miracle my friends ended up with the guys they did. He tries to move in closer, and I shift back. This can’t wait until Mia calls. I need him to go now.

The loud bang of my door slamming open has me jumping out of my skin. A cold chill runs through me at the sight of Damon standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed on where Carter’s hand is on my waist. He’s so livid it’s wafting off him in waves. I finally see the darkness people talk about. His features are cut in cold, vicious lines as he stalks toward us.

“Have you grown tired of living, Carter? I can fix that for you,” Damon asks him, his voice barely above a whisper, somehow making it worse.

Carter rocks back on his heels and lifts his hands. He still seems too casual for this situation, and I briefly wonder if he didn’t catch on to Damon’s meaning. Because watching Damon approach us like we’re his prey makes it really apparent that he’s not joking.

“You should go,” I tell Carter and nudge him toward the door.

He looks back at me, confused. “Really?”

Idiot… “Yes…sorry. I’ll text you later.”

“No.” Damon’s voice is a firm demand. “You won’t.”

He grabs Carter by the collar, and his eyes finally flash with the fear I’d expected to see. Damon drags him through my apartment like Carter’s not an over two-hundred-pound NHL player. Carter struggles against his hold until Damon has him bent over my balcony railing, and then he’s begging him not to let go.

I should be scared, terrified, but seeing Damon like this has my thighs rubbing together and my pulse racing in my ears. There’s something sick and broken inside me that loves the way he’s handling my date.

Carter yells, and my mind snaps back in place. “Don’t kill him!”

Damon looks back at me, head tilted. “Only because you asked.”

He slams the patio door shut and locks Carter outside. All of Damon’s attention is focused on me. His shoulders rigid, dark eyes narrowed, as he eats the space between us. Rationally, I know I should run. That nothing in this scenario is right. So why is my blood heating, my heart racing, and every fiber of my being coming alive at the way he stalks toward me?

I take a tentative step back, and he shakes his head, clicking his tongue. I freeze in place, not daring to disobey him.

A realization lands on me like a rock. I wanted him to show up. I wanted him to be jealous, and now I’m thrilled that he’s here. He wants to marry me, and I want him to prove it’s not just a game. He says I’m the one he wants, but I need him to prove it.

There’s a wildness inside of him as he closes the distance between us. His fingers aren’t gentle as they wrap around my chin and direct my gaze to his.

“This is a dangerous game, Little Nymph,” he warns, voice low, and a tremble runs through me.

My instincts are on high alert, but I don’t try to pull away. I swallow hard. “What game?”

“The one where you act like you’re free of me. That you don’t already know who you belong to. Or do you need a reminder?” He shifts his grip and circles my neck with his fingers, resting them on my collarbone as a warning.

Heat pours into my core, and my clit throbs. A low moan escapes me, and his smile turns dark.

He pushes closer, bent so his breath fans against my mouth. “I’m going to spin you around and fuck your pretty pussy against this counter. This is your last chance to tell me to stop.”

My ears ring, and all my thoughts vanish with his words. I lift on my toes, closing the distance between our mouths. He groans deep and takes over the kiss, running his tongue against mine until I’m consumed by him. My head feels light from the lack of oxygen, but I don’t pull away, letting him do whatever he wants to me.

There’s a power that surges inside me, giving in to his control. No matter his threats, I know if I told him to stop, he would. He’s not gentle when he tears my dress up the side seam, revealing my side. He seems pleased that I’m wearing a control-top underwear instead of something sexy underneath. He yanks the fabric down, letting it fall to my feet, and twists me so my hips press almost painfully into the counter.

“Are you on birth control?”

I nod my head yes, and he pushes a palm into my shoulder blades. “Good. Bend forward.”

The solid surface is hard against my front, and my ass is fully displayed for his view. With my dress split and pushed up around my hips, underwear around one foot, I don’t hesitate to move when his foot meets mine and spreads my legs further apart.

He grunts his approval and runs his fingers up my slit, sending ripples of pleasure through me before sinking two fingers deep inside.

Fuck.I suck in a breath against the stretch. Nothing about this is gentle. His touch is a clear signal that I’m his. He can do whatever he wants to me, and I’m going to let him. I don’t bother to fight it. I want him.

I moan again when he dives another finger deep inside me.

His teeth graze my ear. “You’re going to come all over my cock.”

I don’t bother correcting him because at this moment, that’s all I want.

The thick head of his cock replaces his fingers at my entrance, and my eyes roll back in my head. “Yes. Please, Damon.”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg for my cock.” He slams himself all the way in until his hips slap against my ass. He doesn’t give me time to adjust before withdrawing and slamming in again, his thrust doling out punishment and pleasure. I rock back, and he grips my hip, holding me in place. His grip is hard enough to leave bruises. He’s ruthless in his movements, drawing out my orgasm without mercy. This isn’t love; it’s possession, and I’m falling into it willingly.

“Fuck,” he hisses when I squeeze around him, and a sharp slap lands on my ass. “You’re so tight.”

The quick pain sends me over the cliff of my release. He quickens his pace, groaning his own release, and hot spurts fill my core.

Damon slides out of me, and his cum leaks down my leg. He grazes his teeth along the curve of my neck before sinking his teeth into my skin. I cry out at the sharp pain but don’t pull away.

He licks the mark he left, fingers gathering his cum and pushing it back inside me. “Don’t make me remind you again.”

He tugs my dress back into place, and cool air hits my heated skin when he pulls away. My mind finally clears just in time to see Damon slide the patio door open. Holy shit. Shit. Shit. How did I forget about Carter? Oh my God. I just let Damon fuck me in front of Carter. I look around frantically, but Damon chose his spot carefully. Carter had a front-row seat to Damon taking me, but everything below my waist was blocked by the island.

The hockey player doesn’t look at me while Damon walks him out of my apartment, hand grasped to the back of his neck.

Damon turns to me where I’m still standing frozen in the kitchen and commands, “Never pull that shit again.”

The door closes with a click, and the clear sound of the door locking catches my ears.

Damon Ares Everette the Third has a key to my apartment.