Chapter 1
Jade
My body heated under Damian’s touch, and I squealed at the feel of his tongue on my ass, growing panicked, and aroused. Not there, God. Not there!
The sounds coming out of me were animalistic and high-pitched.
Sometimes I heard myself squeal his name, other times I cursed, scrabbling against the couch for purchase as Damian pushed my body to its limits.
Touching me there shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did.
I could feel myself spiraling faster and faster.
Then he pulled away, and I gulped in a breath, tipping my ass up for him. I shouldn’t have, but I wanted more.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he whispered as the sound of his zipper reached me. The metal clank of his belt buckle followed, and I didn’t even have a chance to brace myself before he shoved his thick cock inside me. “Ungh.”
“Fuck!” I screamed, arching my back as I climaxed so hard, it felt like something was tearing inside me.
The last time I fucked someone was over a year ago, and he hadn’t been anywhere as big as Damian’s cock was. His grunts reached my ears as he gripped my hips, shoving past the resistance with relentless, earth-shaking thrusts that made me sob from pleasure.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned, his weight pressing down, his breath hot against my neck as he claimed me in a way I couldn’t resist. His hips drove into mine, hard and punishing, leaving me no space to think, to breathe. “You feel so fucking good, it was like you were made for me.”
Yes.
I gasped, the sound caught in my throat as he fucked me with a brutal pace that shattered any remnants of control I once had. The burn of it was almost too much, but I couldn’t stop it—not when his grip was unyielding, not when the sharp pleasure spiraled too high, too fast.
“Damian,” I heard myself beg, felt my grip on the couch slipping. “Fuck,” I whispered again, my pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Every stroke pushed me further, the tension coiling in my belly tighter and tighter until it burst—too soon, too fast.
I cried out, the second release leaving my thighs shaking, but Damian didn’t stop. His arm banded around my waist as his movements grew harder, more desperate. We were shaking the couch—and fuck, with the way he was pounding against my ass, it felt like we were shaking the apartment.
He came with a violent thrust, spreading my legs wide so he could push himself deeper into me. My eyes rolled back as his release filled me, and I struggled to catch my breath as he sank over me with a rough moan.
The silence afterward was suffocating—all I could hear was the sound of my heart hammering against my chest. Then the world came back into focus. The ache between my thighs. His weight pressed against me, holding me in place while his breath rasped in my ear.
I was in so much fucking trouble, it wasn’t even funny. My eyes shut and I lay there, still trembling, feeling his cum as it leaked out around his softening cock. The way he kept rocking into me, pushing cum deeper and deeper.
Yep. I was screwed.
Damian pulled out with a tortured sound, and my cheeks heated as liquid gushed between my legs.
I squirmed, and he slapped my ass, the sting making me buck and moan before he did something so surprising, I was left stunned: Damian slipped two fingers along my legs, gathering the cum that had spilled.
Then he shoved it back in me, massaging my pussy walls as he did.
My mouth dropped open, so surprised, I couldn’t even squeal when he repeated the process—and shoved a finger up my ass.
Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.
But then he pulled away while I was still recovering from that shock, and it was like nothing even happened. He zipped up his trousers, then buckled his belt and moved away, leaving me cold as his warmth dissipated from my skin.
“Clean up the coffee,” he said softly, his footsteps moving toward his desk. “Then get out.”
Without a word, I reached for the rag on the floor. Then my skirt.
I didn’t even bother to get dressed as I mopped up the the last of the coffee, then left the room to fetch the vacuum, so fucking shocked, it felt like I was floating. I pulled my skirt on in the hallway, fingers brushing against the cum dripping down my thighs.
What the fuck just happened? My hands shook so badly, I dropped the rag, and when I glanced down, all I could focus on was how the fabric was stained from his coffee.
I felt like that. Stained. Used.
Damian didn’t even look at me when I returned with the vacuum. He didn’t watch as I finished, didn’t need to. His indifference was more suffocating than anything else.
“Anything else?” I asked, my voice hollow, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
“Nope.” He hummed, a quiet acknowledgment before turning his attention back to whatever held his interest.
***
Hours later, it still bothered me.
I left his penthouse without looking back, my body moving on autopilot. The elevator doors closed, and the weight of what happened settled heavily over me. What the fuck?
The whole world was a blur. I took a taxi home, not bothering to chat with the driver like I normally did. My thighs were still wet. I kept forgetting to clean them.
It was dark when I finally blinked, finding myself staring at my apartment door, at the gap signifying that it had been left open. Why the fuck was it open?
Snapping back to reality, I pushed the thought of Damian from my mind and pulled out my phone to call my roommate. Lila didn’t answer.
Cold sank into my gut, my instincts screamed at me to run, but I didn’t. Not when Lila could be hurt.
So I stepped forward, holding my breath as I opened the door and went inside.
The apartment was empty. Cold.
But I swore I could smell Evan’s cologne in the air around me. Maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, there was no fucking way I was staying around to find out.
I pulled out my phone and messaged Lila, warning her. Then I put it aside and started packing, my hands shaking as I snatched up the suitcase I left under the bed.
It was already open and filled with my emergency clothes. So I grabbed the rest of my things and shoved them in, one after the other. It didn’t take long, and there was an envelope of cash hiding inside the flap of the suitcase. My savings. Everything I had, to the last coin.
My breath came in short, ragged bursts, the panic creeping in faster than I could outrun it. The windows were dark, but I kept glancing out, half-expecting to see Evan outside or in the shadows.
A faint sound made me pause, and a sob crept into my chest.
Footsteps.
No, no, no, no, no.
I froze, my heart slamming against my ribcage. No. Not again. Not him.
My pulse raced, and I instinctively stepped back, clutching the suitcase tighter. My mind was spinning, thoughts ricocheting between escape and suffocation. I couldn’t go through this again—this helplessness, this overwhelming vulnerability.
“I can’t do this again,” I whispered to myself, my voice cracking as I tried to control the panic. “I can’t go with him.” Because if it was Evan, then he’d fucking kill me.
Tears streamed down my face. I was an idiot. I was such a fucking idiot. There were small signs that I noticed and didn’t pay too much attention to. Something out of place, scratches on the doorknob that weren’t there before. I should’ve run then. I shouldn’t have stayed.
The footsteps grew louder—closer, and my breath hitched. A sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. I was alone, isolated, and terrified. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel more trapped, the door slowly creaked open and a familiar set of blue eyes caught mine.
I sank onto my knees, inhaling quickly as I was filled with so much sudden relief that black spots dotted my vision.
It wasn’t Evan, it was Damian.
His presence filled the space, every corner suffused with his control.
“What are you doing here?” My voice quivered the words barely a whisper.
He stepped inside, calm, assured, and entirely in control.
“Going somewhere, Ms. Calloway?” His voice was smooth, but beneath it lay a darker edge—a possessiveness that made no sense after how casually cruel he’d been earlier today.
And as much as I wanted to run into his arms and beg him for help, I couldn’t.
Because Damian Blackwood wasn’t my savior, and after today, I wasn’t sure he was the kind of man I thought he was.
“I’m leaving,” I told him, my voice sharp. “Not that it matters to you. I’m sure you can get a new housekeeper elsewhere, Mr. Blackwood.” One he could fuck and then dismiss like she was nothing.
Anger flashed in his eyes, and he scowled down at me.
“You don’t get to leave,” he said softly, but with a sharpness that interrupted my attempt at a denial. I shut my mouth and then scowled back at him. Who the fuck did this man think he was?
“You can’t stop me.”
Damian stepped closer, his voice a low growl. “There isn’t anywhere you can go that I won’t be able to find you, Jade.”
And that was my own damn fault for deciding to work with a fucking criminal. So again, I was a fucking idiot.
“Get out,” I told him, glaring up at him. He’d once softened by my tears, but he didn’t right then. No, instead I saw his nostril flare as he reached out to grab my wrist. “Wha- Damian !”
Ignoring my protests, he dragged me away from my suitcase and my money, and my things. My panic grew as I started to struggle. “Damian, let me go! You don’t understand.”
His voice was dark when he replied. “I think I do, Miss Calloway.”
But by then he’d already dumped me in the backseat of his car, between his tech guy, Riley, and his head enforcer, Marc.