A Tempting Arrangement (Twisted Vows Book 1)

20. Misty

By the timeDamon’s people have finished moving his belongings into my apartment, it’s after eight at night. He looks ridiculous at my tiny dining table with his laptop, his large frame overwhelming the chair.

I thought for sure he’d walk in here, realize what a horrible idea this is, and head back to his place. Instead, he surprised me by asking questions about my sewing. Commenting about how cozy the bedroom is. The smirk he wore when he said it had heat licking up my thighs.

Damon’s still in his tux, but he’s removed his coat and rested it on the back of his chair. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, and I find myself captivated by the intricate designs he has etched into it. Who knew he had a canvas of art painted on his skin under his stuffy outfits.

I move around to get a better look in the pretense of grabbing a glass of water. His eyes follow me, taking in my teddy bear pink flannel pajamas with a smirk.

“I’d be happy to take my shirt off if you want a better look.”

“No…no, sorry. I just didn’t…” I stammer.

“Didn’t expect me to have tattoos?” he questions.

“They’re just…they’re just so colorful.” Flowers, fish, skulls, an array of designs.

He turns sideways in his chair to face me, his legs spread wide enough I could step between them. I fist my hands in the soft fabric of my pants to keep myself from doing anything stupid as I watch him meticulously pop his shirt buttons through their holes one by one, slowly revealing inch by inch of his chest.

My breath catches in my lungs as he shrugs the fabric from his shoulders, revealing himself to me. It’s one thing to guess what he’d look like underneath; it’s a whole other thing to come face-to-face with Damon’s naked chest. The world seems to tilt on its side as I take in the seemingly endless rows of abdominal muscles. My mouth waters, and I teeter on my feet a little, only for him to reach out and brace me.

Embarrassment rises in my throat. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. You can look.”

I can’t help myself. There’s a lavender lotus flower taking up his forearm that fades into a pond motif filled with fish and lilies. The colors deepen the further up they go, black, smokelike swirls blending in with the design until they wrap around his collarbone.

I gaze up at his face. “What does that symbolize?”

“In darkness, there is light.”

I bite the corner of my lip and let myself admire the art. “The black really makes the colors stand out. Almost like it’s there to make them shine brighter?” I look up to meet his eyes, and he’s wearing an odd smile that I can’t make out.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says. There’s a glint in his expression that makes me feel like he’s teasing me, but I’m not sure about what.

My gaze catches on raised scars along his chest and shoulder. My hand rises involuntarily to touch it, but my stomach rumbles loudly, breaking the moment.

“When’s the last time you ate?” He looks displeased.

I have a feeling he’s not going to like the answer. “Last night.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, it’s not like it came up or anything, and I was…too nervous to eat today.”

He runs his thumb and forefinger over his mouth, thinking. “Do you like sushi?”

Eight pieces of sushi later, I’m tucked into the side of my couch. I still haven’t processed the speed at which everything’s happened. I went from being royally pissed at Damon to being married so fast my brain can’t catch up.

I didn’t even have time to tell the girls. If I’m being honest, I don’t know how to explain why I did it without revealing parts of my past.

The parts I’ve buried deep inside and never wanted them to know. There’s a beauty in starting over, a freedom to create whatever world you want. However, there’s a guilt that comes along with hiding a part of yourself from the people closest to you.

Damon’s sitting at my tiny table again, his head bowed down to the laptop, where his long fingers fly over the keys. The only thing more distracting than the flex and shift of his forearms is that he didn’t put his shirt back on, using the excuse of being hot in here. Nothing in the way his clothes fit him gives away the muscles on muscles stacked along his abdomen and sides.

My mouth waters as I trace the contour of his oblique to where it disappears into the waistband of his black slacks.

“You’re drooling,” Damon says, his voice low but playful.

My mouth snaps shut, no doubt a rose blush covering my cheeks at getting caught.

“No need to be embarrassed. Wives are supposed to check out their husbands.”

Husband… I swallow hard as the word rocks through me, momentarily distracting me from the look on his face. His mouth is quirked up at the side as he stands from the too-small chair and stretches his arms above his head before entwining his fingers behind his neck. He’s taunting me, daring me to cave and break my own rule. The worst part is I want to. I’m already growing wet between my thighs, and if my top was any thinner, he’d be able to see exactly what he’s doing to me.

My fingers grip the worn fabric of my sofa, holding me in place. “We don’t have that kind of marriage.”

He raises one singular brow. “Don’t we? You begged me to touch you, to fill your pussy last night. What makes you think you can resist doing it again? I own you, Nymph. It’s only a matter of time before you accept that.”

I bristle at his challenge. He wants me begging, but I know just how to drive him insane.

I look at my shabby pajamas, the corner of my lip curling into a smile. Two can play this game.

“You’re right. It is hot in here.” I stand from the couch and slide the top button of my shirt through the hole. His whole body tenses, and his gaze is pinned to where my hands work the next button, revealing the top of my breast.

He takes a step toward me, but I skirt away from him, making my way toward the bedroom. I close the door behind me and drop my head against the hollow wood surface, taking several breaths. Am I really going to do this?

The rational part of me screams no, but there’s a darker part of me that pushes me forward, that wants to break his control.

I slide my dresser drawer open and dig toward the back, pulling out an emerald-green silk nighty. It’s cut high in the back and devastatingly low in the front. Quickly divesting my flannel, I slide the cool fabric of the dress over my head, letting it fall to just below the crease where my butt meets the back of my thighs. Any attempt at bending over would reveal the vibrant pink lace beneath.

My reflection in the mirror is someone who barely looks like me, and my smile grows, knowing he’s about to get a taste of his own medicine. With any luck, he’ll be the one begging. Preferably on his knees.

The loud click of his water glass hitting the counter fills my tiny apartment the second I walk out. I make my way to the kitchen, ignoring the hot brand of his gaze on my bare skin, and move behind him to grab a glass from the cupboard.

They’re a little out of reach, and I lift on my toes. He lets out a guttural groan when the hem rises several inches. The sound coats my insides, pebbling my nipples instantly. I gasp when his chest meets my back, caging me against the counter. My heart pounds in my ears until it blocks out all sounds, and the only thing that matters is where his body touches mine.

All reason vanishes from my mind, and I press back into him, wanting nothing more than to have his hands on me.

His mouth grazes my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and his breath is warm on my skin, setting me on fire when he says, “Be careful or you’ll lose this game, and I’m not done playing with you.”

He reaches up, hands me a glass, and steps back, putting several feet between us. The air’s cold with the sudden loss of his heat. An overwhelming feeling of being dismissed curdles in my stomach, and a sick wave of embarrassment takes over. I spin and glare at him. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

He runs his thumb along his bottom lip. “Your nipples are hard.”

Dammit. I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s cold in here.”

“Sure it is.” He chuckles low in his throat, giving me a knowing look. He doesn’t bother to hide when he reaches down and adjusts his pants. The outline of his hard cock. Shit, even through the fabric, it’s clear that he’s massive. He wants me to see what I do to him.

I hurry from the kitchen, needing to put space between us before I do something epically stupid, like jumping him. He glances at my empty glass, then back to me. I don’t bother going back for it. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I have to be that close to him again.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” The excuse is lame, but I can barely think.

“It’s ten.” His smirk grows into a smile.

“It’s been a long day.” I don’t even care that he knows I’m hiding when I escape into my room, thanking God that the bathroom has double access from both the living room and my bedroom. I lock the connecting door and place my hands on the counter, letting it take my weight. My pupils are blown wide, leaving only a sliver of green, and my cheeks are flushed pink. I look wild, untamed, and the feeling is addicting.

I pull my hair back into a clip and wash my face. The water is the only thing cooling me down. I don’t hear Damon walk in until his arm touches mine.

I startle, splashing water over the counter.

“You’re jumpy tonight. Does something have you anxious?” He says it entirely too casually as he grabs his toothbrush from my counter.

I’m momentarily shocked at the normality of the motion. Like he’s been in my bathroom a thousand times before and there’s nothing unusual about this whole thing.

“Of course not.” Determined to not let him see just how much he is getting to me, I grab my own toothbrush and brush my teeth. He watches me in the mirror with dark eyes as he bends over to spit in the sink. I’m completely unprepared for how hot that simple action is.

It’s not hot. It’s disgusting.

I rinse my mouth out, glad that this whole thing is nearly done. “Okay, well, good night.”

Why does he look so freaking amused by that?

“Good night.”

I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. “Shut the light off when you go out, please.”

See, I can be normal. He hits the lights, but instead of leaving, he walks to the opposite side of the bed. The sound of his zipper has me spinning to see him.

“What are you doing?” I screech.

One brow rises. “Going to sleep.”

Pure panic fills my chest, and I squeak, “In here?”

“Yes.” He drags out the syllable. “As per our agreement.”

“But…we don’t actually have to do that. No one is going to know you didn’t sleep with me.” I immediately regret my choice of words. If he caught it, he doesn’t let on.

“I’ll know.” He pushes his pants down his legs, revealing gray boxer briefs.

What could I possibly have done in a past life to deserve this? “You’re not getting in here like that…where are your pajamas?”

“I don’t have any. I never wear them.”

“Never?” I squeak.

He pulls back the covers and gets in behind me. The double-size bed makes it impossible to leave any space, and his breath fans over the back of my neck. “Never. It’s entirely too hot.”

A shudder runs through me, and I can only pray he doesn’t see it. Every inhale is a struggle. He shifts, his chest grazing my back. I try to muffle my whimper into my pillow as heat floods my core, and my clit throbs, begging to be touched.

Traitor.

He shifts again, this time his hand landing on my hip.

“What are you doing?” My voice comes out breathy.

“Your bed’s tiny. There’s no room.”

“Wouldn’t…wouldn’t you be more comfortable sleeping somewhere else until we can get a bigger bed?” I fight not to stutter.

His grip tightens on my hip and tugs me closer. “No. This is perfect.”

My back arches against my will, my body completely ignoring my brain. When I don’t pull away like I should, he slides his hand down the curve of my hip, and his fingers brush the inside of my thigh, millimeters from where I need him most.

A moan escapes my lips, and he takes it as permission to move further. He doesn’t turn his hand to meet my core, instead driving me crazy with the barely there caress of the back of his knuckles against my clit.

“You think you’re in control, but your body is mine.” His lips meet the back of my neck in a kiss so soft it feels imagined. “Beg for it and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

I’ve stopped breathing altogether, willing him to grasp me where I need him but refusing to beg. I rub my thighs together, bringing his fingers closer so they press firmer against me. I moan when it’s not enough to soothe the aching in my core.

“See how much your pussy wants me. How much she needs me.” Cool metal slides over my wrist. I’m too lost to him to question what it is.

“Yes.” My hips shift, and my ass grinds against his hard cock.

He growls, a pained, primal sound. His hands tighten on my hips almost bruisingly, and the air shifts as whatever’s been holding him back cracks around us.

Pleasure rocks through me as he thrusts his cock against my ass, the sensation mixed with the barely there touch of his hand has my mind blanking as my clit throbs for his attention.

A low groan rips from his chest, and he pulls back, breaking all contact with me.

I whimper, and my body shakes with the loss. Damon chuckles, but it’s a dark, warning sound. He rests his chin on my shoulder, his evening stubble scraping the side of my face. Heat flashes through me as he runs a single finger along my slit, and my body shakes with need.

“That wasn’t very nice. You almost made me lose control,” he rasps against my ear.

I shiver, even though I’m anything but cold, as I try to process what’s happening through the spell he’s put me under.

“You will crawl to me and beg me to fuck this little pussy.” His teeth scrape across the sensitive curve of my neck, and all reason disappears from my brain. I don’t care that I’ll hate myself tomorrow. I’m more than willing to beg for him tonight.

Before I can form words, Damon stands from the bed and walks out of the room, leaving me panting with burning lust.

“Damon?” Confusion is clear in my voice. “Damon!” I call out louder.

He doesn’t respond, and shock rolls through me, unable to process what just happened. Several agonizing seconds later, I hear the front door shut and the lock click into place.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan and roll over.

My clit throbs with my pulse. Dammit. He’s left me desperate for release. I give in to my need and slip my panties off, my fingers immediately stroking my clit. I shift my hand lower and imagine it’s his fingers burying themself deep inside me. It takes seconds to make myself come, his name a whisper on my lips.

Panting, I roll onto my stomach, and the glimmer of silver catches my eye in the moonlight. He’s put a thin bracelet on me. I twist it, trying to get it off, but it’s too tight to go over my hand. I stop when the pressure bruises the bones in my wrist.

A shiver runs down my spine. What the hell is this?