Tempted by Eden (Eden #1)

Chapter Two

Dameon

Thick, dark lashes flutter against my face as Rachael pecks my cheek, and I suppress a shudder. I’ve never understood why women feel compelled to stick those brushes to their eyelids. They’re a huge pain. They fall off at the most inconvenient times, and they end up everywhere—on my pillow, in my sheets. I even peeled one off my balls once. I wouldn’t be surprised if the women who wear them become airborne when caught in a strong gust of wind. I can almost hear a cartoonish swoosh in my head whenever they blink.

“I’m so glad you called,” Rachael coos, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes as she slides into the seat opposite me.

“Me too.” I fake a smile.

My gaze drifts out the restaurant window as rain pelts the sidewalk. It’s an unseasonably wet night for August in Manhattan. People dash through the downpour, clutching their raincoats and umbrellas, struggling to stay dry. The rain hasn’t let up in twelve hours, yet nothing brings this city to a standstill. Not even torrential rain. It’s the city that never sleeps for a reason.

The sound of Rachael’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, invading my brain like a knife piercing my skull.

“I’ve been waiting for you to reach out. I knew we would get back together eventually.” She places her hand on top of mine.

Fuck’s sake.

This woman is delusional if she thinks we’re getting back together. Calling her an ex is a stretch and laughable at best. A total of five dates almost eighteen months ago barely counts as dating. It was five nights of mediocre, vanilla sex, nothing more, nothing less. As soon as I realized she was becoming a stage-five clinger, I ended it. I bluntly informed her I wasn’t interested and moved on. Considering she’s been low-level stalking my ass ever since, the message wasn’t received.

The barrage of text messages, emails and phone calls, along with her suddenly appearing at events I was attending, were all red flags of her growing obsession. I should have put a stop to it as soon as I realized what was happening, but her contact wasn’t consistent enough to make me feel concerned. It was more annoying than anything else, like a mosquito buzzing around my head in the dead of night. I ignored her futile attempts at getting in touch, thinking she would eventually get the hint. Obviously not.

It’s time to finally put an end to it, once and for all. I slide my hand out from under hers and meet her gaze. I can see in her eyes that she knows what’s coming. In an attempt to delay the inevitable, she dives into a spiel about some high-society gossip.

Like I give a fuck.

Expelling a deep breath, I redirect my gaze to the window. Her relentless monologue is testing my patience. At this point, I’m not even registering her words. She can’t possibly like me for who I am; she doesn’t even know me. That’s what pisses me off the most. It’s my name and money she’s after. A wealthy socialite in search of a perfect marriage match with a billionaire media mogul. Marrying for status and power is her sole purpose in life. I need to be more careful where I stick my dick in the future.

Running a frustrated hand down my face, I swirl the scotch in my glass, ready for this dinner to be over. “Listen, Rachael, we need to talk,” I say, interrupting her incessant chatter.

A flash of red outside the window catches my eye, momentarily halting my words. A blonde woman in a red dress steps out from the back seat of a cab parked in front of the restaurant. With her coat pulled over her head to shield her from the rain, she dashes toward the entrance, bypassing the flustered doorman who was on his way to greet her with an umbrella. The door swings open, and in walks her .

She peels off her coat, revealing her face and those captivating green eyes that I know all too well. I draw in a quiet breath. She looks stunning in red; it suits her perfectly. Her flawless, tanned skin glows, and her stilettos make her legs seem impossibly long. It hits me that until now, I’ve only ever seen her barefoot and naked, or in a simple black gown. I’m well acquainted with what lies beneath that snug dress, and so is my cock.

I resist the urge to adjust myself under the table as she smooths down her skirt and finger-combs her long, white-blonde hair, following the hostess to her table. Her dinner companion hasn’t arrived yet, and as she takes her seat, she subtly scopes out the restaurant.

The second her bright emerald eyes lock with mine, they go round in recognition. Her tongue artfully slips out, moistening her sultry red lips. Inwardly I groan, thinking about what that talented tongue can do. Her body was made to serve and be worshipped in return. I can’t help but smirk as our last encounter at The Sanctuary flashes through my mind.

Her glassy eyes shine bright as she looks up at me from beneath her lashes, pink-stained lips stretched wide around my dick. She’s an absolute vixen when she’s on her knees for me. I fist her hair firmly and pull her off with a pop. A string of saliva from her lips connects her to my cock.

“God, you take me so well.” I gaze down at her adoringly with my grip still firm on her hair, tilting her head back. “You want more?”

She mewls and nods as much as my hold will allow. As soon as I release her, she sucks me down her throat like her life depends on it. A few rough thrusts later, I explode down her throat so hard that my vision blurs around the edges. She swallows everything I give her, and as soon as she’s finished licking me clean, I lift her up by her arms and lay her face down over my lap. She’s got an ass begging to be spanked—soft and round yet toned, and perfect for my palm.

“You ready to come, vixen?”

“Yes, sir.”

I restrain her wrists in the center of her lower back, so she won’t hurt herself if she moves. I know she won’t, though. She’s my good little kitten who craves the touch of my firm hand. I bring my palm down hard across her ass, alternating between her cheeks. When a nice red glow has started to appear, I softly caress and massage each one, enjoying the warmth seeping into her skin. I spread her legs slightly and the aroma of her arousal instantly permeates the air. Breathing her in, I slide my fingers between her hot slippery folds and softly circle her clit. And when I give it a slight tap, she gasps in pleasurable pain.

“Come for me.”

My hand comes down harder than before on her left cheek while simultaneously pinching her clit, and she comes upon impact.

She cries out, thrashing in my hold, riding out her orgasm while I continue to stroke her through it. Once she’s stopped writhing, laying limp across my lap, I smooth back her hair and continue to pet her while she enjoys the lingering aftershocks.

“Such a good girl.”

“Dameon!” Rachael’s screech interrupts my hot-as-fuck memory, causing my lip to curl in annoyance. Her voice instantly softens my cock, like stepping into an ice bath. I allow my eyes to linger on my vixen for a beat longer, dipping my head slightly in acknowledgment. It’s barely perceptible, but the last thing I need is to draw Rachael’s attention to her and cause a scene. Reluctantly, I drag my eyes from her captivated gaze back to my date.

Time to get this over with.