Chapter 4
DAMON
“I’ll make you forget him, Mae.”
Her exhale, beautiful and private, is one of relief because it’s what she’s been seeking as one year with him rolled into another—respite from his abuse because Peter’s toxicity courses through her veins like the drug she can never outrun, barely keeping her alive but just enough to hold her hostage.
I kiss her sweet mouth, Mae following my lead, soft lips at the mercy of my own. When I hold her close, body pressed against body, she grips my collared shirt, anchoring herself in case flight takes hold and she attempts to disappear like a ghost into the night.
But I won’t ever let her go.
Only enough to break the connection and admire her chest’s heavy rise and fall. Mae watches as I move to stand behind her.
“Are you still scared, sweetheart?” I ask, observing her shiver.
The whispered response is a sigh of submission. “Yes.”
Gathering her long, silken hair, I brush it over one shoulder. Then, lowering the zipper on Mae’s dress, my fingers graze soft skin, goose bumps patterning across her back. She doesn’t flinch, and she doesn’t tell me to stop, so I slide the straps over her shoulders and sink to my knees. The tight fabric clings to Mae’s curves, so I take my time pulling the dress over her beautiful round ass, all while resisting the urge to sink my teeth into her white flesh.
Fucking beautiful . Without a doubt, the front is bound to be just as spectacular.
Turning Mae around, my lips trail kisses over her stomach and navel, and when I pull her delicate underwear aside, she turns away from me, embarrassed.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
My command hits the right note, and her anxious, fawn-colored irises find mine. She looks down at me, kneeling at her feet, my two fingers gliding between her thighs, edging closer to where she wants to be touched. I stroke through Mae’s velvety wet pussy, slick with the same need I have for her, and fuck , if it doesn’t feel like heaven, nothing else will.
She gasps at the contact, head lolling back with a moan when I slide a finger inside her. She’s tight, too tight for what’s soon to come. Mae’s hands fall to my shoulders, grip flexing, nails digging in with every one of my thrusts.
This, however, is not where I want her first orgasm to take place.
So, I stand, relishing her delicate whimper when I slide out my finger to suck off her sweet taste. She needn’t worry. I’ll most definitely be going back for more. “All evening, I’ve been wondering what you taste like.” Mae’s rose-pink lips part, and I’m torn between wanting to kiss her again and having them suck on my cock. “But first, I want to see all of you. Take off your bra.”
Hands in my pockets, I watch her eyes widen. She’s still blushing furiously from being finger fucked, and now she’s resistant to my command. When I don’t offer a hint of compromise, Mae relents. She reaches behind and works the clasp, clutching the bra close to her chest like it’s a lifeline. My eyes dart to the floor, and after a long, daring moment of uncertainty, she glides the straps over her arms and drops it on top of the discarded dress.
I soak her in.
Every fucking perfect inch.
My low growl speaks my approval, and while I want to suck her pink nipples and creamy breasts into my mouth, there’s more show to come.
“Underwear,” I order. “Nice and slow.”
Mae hooks her thumbs into the waistband, then I’m met with a hint of defiance.
My lips twitch, and she notices. Brave girl.
“Are you challenging me, sweetheart?”
More afraid than she’ll ever let on, Mae lowers the black lace over her thighs then has it pool at her feet.
“ Fuck . You are a pretty sight.” She’s wasted with that asshole of a husband. Only a true abuser would not appreciate what he gets to wake up to every morning and fall asleep with every night. Peter’s very existence is an insidious disease.
I hold out my hand, and knowing what’s expected, she steps out of the underwear and tosses them to me, watching as I pocket the keepsake. If only she knew how much removing her clothes is going to pale in comparison to what I’ll do to her over the coming hours.
My girl stands before me, hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts, her only protection from my wandering gaze. Confidence is not something she radiates. Whatever she gained over time has likely been torn to shreds by her disparaging asshole of a husband.
Stepping close, I enjoy the hitch of Mae’s single breath, then another when I grip her ass, preparing to lift her into position.
“Hold on.” Arms around shoulders and legs hugging my waist, she gasps at our new… compromising position. I exhale, a deep animalistic rumble she feels from my chest to hers. “ Kiss me.”
And so she does.
Raking fingers through my hair and drawing my face to hers as if we’ve always been lovers, it’s nothing shy of urgent because we’re both desperate for the other. Everything about the woman drives me near insane and the idea of wanting to feast on every inch of her, might just push me over the edge.
Crawling onto the bed, I lower Mae down and trail my lips over her exposed neck. It’s there, an inch below the hairline, running horizontal towards Mae’s throat, I find a thin but raised scar. It feels like a recent injury, one created out of malice and less accidental. When my thumb runs its length, she stills beneath me, her breath caught somewhere between fight or flight.
“Damon,” she whispers, her small voice carrying a world of hurt. “I have to go.”
I meet her eyes which glisten like diamonds, and I hate that it confirms my suspicions. “I want you to stay,” I say, kissing her lips and demanding her tongue, all in hopes she forgets about him. “Let me worship you the way you deserve.”
I watch a tear slip down her temple as she mouths, okay .
There’s no questioning who has the upper hand here. Mae ‘Ellison’ will bring me to my knees without so much as trying.
She lets me pick up where we left off, and there isn’t an inch of her I’m not going to explore.
Wearing the scent of jasmine, delicate and soft, she writhes beneath me, my cock so damn hard it’s painful. It strains against my pants, eager to sink further between her thighs. Judging by the way she’s clawing at my clothes, it’s a safe bet that Mae wants me as naked as I have her. I, however, am in no hurry for this night to be over.
I continue a path over her breasts, teasing each perfectly hardened nipple between my teeth and tongue, then over her stomach once more to the sweet spot awaiting me.
Looking up from between her legs, I find Mae propped on her elbows, eyes as wild as they are terrified. “Sweetheart, I want to do terrible things to you.”
Her silent sigh is all the yes I need.
Hooking my arms around spread thighs, I drop my face to her pussy, tasting what’s now mine .
“ Oh … God!” she cries out the moment my tongue flicks and caresses her clit.
The more Mae squirms, the longer I tease.
“Damon,” she moans when I slide two fingers inside, deepening each thrust and earning myself a new addiction.
Her thighs clench around my face, her pussy following suit around my fingers as she comes. I listen to her tortured moan and watch as she’s biting hard on her bottom lip, hands above her head, grabbing fistfuls of pillow.
Fuck .
It makes the animal in me want to ravage every delicate inch of her. We’ve barely touched, barely kissed, and we sure as hell haven’t fucked yet, but she’s already so damn responsive.
Mae rides my tongue, my fingers, my whole damn face until she falls lax onto the bed. She shivers from the rush, chest heaving. From here, I take my time, feasting and licking her cum, and smiling at her sigh of content.
“That was fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” Pushing off, I stand at the end of the bed and admire the stunning woman before me, her legs trembling. “But we’re not done here yet.”
Far from it.
Because eating her alive has easily just become my new favorite hobby.
~
MAE
“Now’s not the time to be shy, sweetheart.”
Wearing a devilish smile, Damon’s thickly veined hands unbuckle his belt before sliding the leather strap through the loops and letting it drop to the floor. Then he takes his shirt to task, unhooking each button, knowing full well I’m guilty of watching him the same way he does me.
With a quiet obsession.
With a longing to hold onto each second of just us.
When his shirt drapes open, the crisp whiteness contrasting against his sun-kissed tan has me clenching my thighs in anticipation because never in my life has any man had this effect on me.
“I’m not shy,” I lie.
His smile broadens, and damn him for being so disarming. “No? The blush over your breasts says otherwise.”
I look down, and dammit, he’s right. And when he pulls off the shirt and tosses it aside, the color deepens.
Naked from the waist up, Damon Shaw is a man well-defined by broad shoulders and muscular arms, each not only adorned by prominent veins I’d love to trace, but of stunningly shaded sleeve tattoos. Neoclassical images, in fact. I’d caught glimpses of them peeking beyond his shirt cuffs throughout the night, never imagining I’d see them in all their beauty so up close and personal.
In every way, he is a work of art.
“I can play by your rules for a little while,” he says, watching intently the way he has all evening, like I’m the only one he cares to entertain. “So, tell me, Mae, what do you want me to do to you?”
My fingers dig into the comforter. He notices. “Everything.”
“Sweetheart, everything means all bets are off. It means your body is mine.”
“I know.”
“Well then, we have ourselves a deal.”
Then he drops his pants and… holy shit!
Damon’s intimidating cock promises of a night I might just not survive. He grabs my ankle and drags me to the bed’s edge, and when he says, “I’m about to invade every part of you,” I believe him. There’s nothing this man won’t take. The wolfish smile on his ridiculously handsome face reinforces just how much trouble has found me.
He opens my legs and bends my knees, his arms hooked under each until I’m practically folded beneath him. Then, he rolls his hips, pushing his length inside me.
I may be wet for him, but the pain hits first. “I can’t …” my cry muffles against his shoulder.
“Breathe.”
I do, and with two more grinds, his thick cock breaks through and hits me at full force.
“Oh God… Damon …”
“Fuck…” His groan rumbles from his mouth to mine, and suddenly, I don’t care how much it will hurt.
I want it.
I want him.
I want pleasure and pain like I need both salvation and destruction.
“You feel just how I imagined you would.” Pinning my hands beside my head, Damon throbs inside me, each pulse intensifying my ache. “Hold tight, sweetheart.”
He claims my mouth and swallows my pleasure, making it easy for me to become lost in his taste, his command, and the way his tongue strokes mine as if they’ve belonged together all this time.
Then , it’s game on.
Punishing thrusts and tortuous grinds, he takes me hard and slow like all night his eyes have promised he’d do.
This is torture, and I crave more of it.
He is my tormentor.
And I don’t want him to stop.
~
DAMON
“Fuck! Damon …”
She murmurs my name against my kiss, and I bury myself deeper, earning her mercy pleas.
“You want me to stop, sweetheart?”
“No!” Her hands twist and knead into the pillow above, and when I roll my hips, grinding into her tight pussy, she damn well sinks her teeth into her pink bottom lip, breathlessly writhing beneath me.
No matter how I give it to her, Mae loses herself in every moment. My innate need and want for her to feel this way beyond just tonight can drive a man like me insane. But she’s a curious and sensual creature trapped in a shackling marriage, and the very thought of that volatile asshole touching her again might just take me beyond insanity and into murder.
I pull out, allowing Mae a moment’s reprieve. Her flushed chest heaves, eyes matching the same lust and insatiable appetite I too share. Hand under her ass, I flip Mae onto her stomach then crawl back over, my rumbling voice sounding more like a growl. “The things I want to do to you.”
If she knew, she’d most certainly run.
I kiss across slender shoulders and then down the valley of her spine. She shivers with both surrender and delight. Then, pulling her onto her knees, I've created the perfect position to explore the sanctity of both holes. Dragging my tongue through Mae’s pussy, I plunge it to where my cock has made her swollen and raw. The moan that follows has me throbbing to be back inside her, but she’s rocking against my face, demanding more, so I lick her perfect little ass hole and slide two fingers into her pussy. She sighs, sinking her torso lower on the bed. I’m watching Mae writhe, her body in sync with my every thrust, when something catches in my peripheral—a figure, moving slow and sure, up the right side of the bed.
Jason.
“Shh,” he warns, eyes narrowed with a finger pressed to his lips. He’s holding his cell, capturing Mae’s submission. Her vulnerability belongs to me, and no one else, but this bastard is all about insurance.
‘Now, it’s time to create something to lord over her,’ he had said.
Apparently, that something is this .
Knowing we’ve hit the jackpot, his smirk is one of victory. Mae’s compliance is now guaranteed because if she ever wants to see this video destroyed, there’s little choice but to convince Peter to sign.
Jason’s attention darts from me to her, urging me to continue. I’ll give him what he wants and deal with it after—even if it is the aftermath.
I turn my focus back to Mae because my brother’s intrusion isn’t going to stop her pleasure. I slow the thrusts, teasing, watching her tightening grip on the pillow. “You want more, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” comes her breathy reply.
“I can’t hear you. Do… you… want… more ?”
“Yes!”
“Good girl.” Catching her unaware, I replace my fingers with my raging cock. She collapses beneath me, and a broken cry escapes her lips, the beautiful sound filling my room where I want it to linger long after she’s gone.
Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I pin Mae down to better my leverage and prevent Jason from being seen. Then I slide a hand under her body and massage her sensitive clit. I’m rewarded with a string of pleas and incomprehensible utterances, especially when my thrusts turn to a grind.
“I want your pussy coming over my cock again, Mae,” I command. Trapped beneath me, she’s forced to accept whatever I want from her.
She writhes as pressure builds, and when I whisper in her ear, “This won’t be the last time,” Mae’s body shudders violently, her defeated cry doing things to me I never expected.
“Fucking Christ!” I growl, her pussy clenching around my cock like a vice. With an iron grip on the pillow, she buries her face into the mattress and screams while I bury myself inside her.
It’s a brutal orgasm, one that’s been pent up for years, begging for release because the asshole she married never once reciprocated. Still trembling from the rush, Mae folds easily into my arms when pulled onto her knees, her back against my chest.
“Damon…” she whispers, my name barely forming on an exhale. Her head lolls against my shoulder because she’s a beautiful, malleable mess.
Kissing down her temple, I ask, “You want more, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” The response rolls off her tongue without hesitation, and I’m only too happy to oblige despite being the asshole breaking her trust.
While I slide back inside Mae and she sighs once more, I wrap my hand around her slender throat, tilting her face to ensure she doesn’t catch sight of the voyeur in the room. It wouldn’t matter anyway because I’m so deep in her pussy, she can barely breathe. When she does, it’s in the way she murmurs my name, the way it sounds on those rose-pink lips between gasps that sees me pounding my cum inside her.
“ Damon …” Mae cries out with every ruthless thrust, desperately clawing at my arms holding her close, her entire body fighting my power until I’m done.
“Fucking hell,” I groan against her ear as we collapse together on the bed. She’s back under me where she belongs, my cock in no hurry to pull out. I listen to the state of her heavy breathing as she does mine, and then I turn to Jason. He’s got what he needs, and he’s seen more than he should have.
Now he can fuck off.
He poses no challenge.
Ending the video with a wink, he leaves the room as quietly as he entered it.
I’ll deal with him and his intrusion later.
Right now, I still have three hours before dawn, and I won’t be wasting one second of the time I have left.
Grazing my mouth over Mae’s ear, I whisper, “We’re not done yet.”
~
MAE
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
The clock on the bedside marks four hours of insatiable fucking, Damon’s every command sounding more like raspy growls.
He has me on the bed’s edge, my legs wrapped around his waist as he grinds into me. My hands are pinned by his, our fingers interlaced, white knuckles clenching with the ebb and flow of rolling hips.
“I want you watching what you do to me,” he says. “How insane you’ve driven me all night.”
Amongst other emotions, the feeling is entirely mutual.
And I’m fascinated by him. By how he fucks.
There’s sheer beauty in his strength and in the push and pull of muscles, but it’s there in the intensity of his own eyes that I witness—not for the first time—ferocity before his final release.
He’d eat me alive if he could. Or die trying.
Damon kisses me hard and possessively, his tongue finding mine the moment he comes inside me. His groan, as insatiable as it is primal, reverberates through us, and then he stills, albeit for the slight shudder in the final thrust and the heaving of his chest.
There we remain, and after his teeth graze my bottom lip, he kisses me again like it’s the first and last time.
But it won’t be.
This man knows how I crave his tenderness and savagery, and he’s addicted to how it feels when I grip his cock during his climax.
So, he’ll initiate a hunt even if I run.
But for now, all good things must come to a temporary end.
With a cruel finality, Damon pulls out, and beyond exhausted, I slump to the floor, his cum running down my thighs as he vanishes from view. I can barely hold myself upright, and with him no longer inside me and without his touch, every inch of me starts to ache.
He returns wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, highlighting the sensual V-line of his waist, desire throbbing between my legs despite how raw I am. It’s almost criminal just how good he looks, even with no sleep.
Then, the man who’s spent the last four hours mauling me does the last thing I expect.
He tosses a pile of clothes onto my lap.
My stare moves from him to the items which—in my current state—make no sense.
“Shower and get dressed. You’re taking your husband home.” The incongruous air of indifference sends an arctic shiver through me. “Oh, and Mae…” I look back to Damon and the malevolent smile that pulls on his lips, “… don’t forget the paint smudge on your arm.”
And just like that, with six easy strides, he’s gone, closing the bedroom’s double doors behind him.
The whiplash hits hard, my cheeks flaming from his callous dismissal.
This is on me.
The red flags—I ignored them all in a moment of weakness.
Now he’s had what I so easily gave him, that’s it.
Reeling from the humiliation of being used, I wipe my tears and take stock of the clothes.
“What the hell…” I whisper in disbelief.
They’re my clothes.
Not the red dress and black lace I arrived in but a sundress and fresh underwear from my drawer in my home.
Dread festers in the pit of my stomach.
Jason.
It can only have been him.
Overwhelmed by their premeditation, I gather the items and hold them tight like somehow, I can protect them, and they’d protect me.
But nothing can save me now.
The damage is done.