Chapter 10 #2
The champagne I am drinking is making me feel a little tipsy. And a little brave. But instead of asking him why I am here with him, I ask him something else. Scared of the answer I would receive. That perhaps all I am is a momentary distraction to him.
“Were you always like this, even as a boy?” My finger points to all of him, my eye following its path.
“Like what?” Answering a question with another question.
“Self-assured. Confident. Stern.” There are so many other words I could use to describe him, but I keep those bouncing on my tongue. Alluring. Dominating. Arrogant.
“Stern. That’s a new one. A nice way of saying I scare you,” he says this, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I think he prefers it when people are scared of him. It keeps them at arm's length.
I am scared of Damon. But not in the way he thinks. Not in the way he wants. He will never hurt me. Intrinsically, I know this. In the same way, I know that he would never let anyone else hurt me.
No. It's more complicated than physically being scared of him. I am scared of what he can do to me emotionally. There, I think he could destroy me.
“I’m not scared of you in that way, Damon.” Would he push for more?
As always, he owns the chair he sits in, like the chair has molded to him, not the other way around. So, when he leans forward in that languid way that is more dangerous than moving quickly, goosebumps erupt on my skin.
With his face inches from mine, he trails the back of his fingers up my arm, over my shoulder, before circling the back of my neck with his hand.
“In what way are you scared of me, Sienna?” His voice is sensual and low, making me suddenly acutely aware of my body.
The vibrator I forgot about starts to make itself known, reminding me of its placement in a usually empty sport.
Damon's thumb and forefinger exert pressure on my neck—not painful but purposefully inflicted to remind me of his control.
The air between us, charged with electricity and his scent, pushes oxygen out of the way as my breathing becomes shallow.
He does all this with one lean forward and a touch. He aims to distract from answering the question. He doesn’t want to know the answer, but he will have it nonetheless.
“In all the ways that cannot be seen.” Quietly spoken but weighing more than a thousand thoughtless words put together. Sometimes, more is said with less.
A minute passes as he stares at me, and I stare at him, my words marinating in the air around us.
“Alors nous sommes tous les deux damnés,” he mutters these words and pulls back, his gaze on me thoughtfully.
Before I can ask what it means, he stands, his hand held out.
“Let’s dance.”
Oh shit. I haven’t danced since my wedding day.
The first and only dance James and I danced, though I attended dance lessons for months leading up to it.
I wanted to dance the tango, but we ended up dancing the Waltz.
While we were good at many things together, dancing was not one of them.
But it was something I immensely enjoyed.
Even now, I would put music on some nights and dance the tango.
Solo. Dancing alone was difficult, but what was a girl to do without a partner ?
I take Damon's outstretched hand and rise, butterflies in my stomach. It’s just a dance—nothing to it. But as we approach the dance floor, most couples leave, bar us and four others.
Damon twirls me and pulls me close, his hand on my lower back so hot and heavy against my skin.
“Um, what’s happening?” I look around as the lights dim further, a group of people gathering around the edge of the dance floor.
“We're dancing. The tango.” My mouth drops open, and at the same time, I will my mind to be silent. That must be how he knows things. He can read minds. It’s the only logical and very far-fetched explanation as to how this is happening.
“If you don’t close your mouth, I’ll put something in it.” I snap my mouth closed and blush as my mind goes to the gutter. But the smirk on Damon’s face tells me that he is right there with me.
I look around nervously, hoping I don’t make a fool of myself. Or Damon.
“Eyes on me, Sienna. No one else matters.” I lock eyes with Damon as the intro starts to play.
“My heart is beating out of my chest, Damon. I don’t think I can do this.”
“Your heart is telling you that you are alive. Don’t be afraid to live.”
Damon's words settle in the very heart that is trying to escape the confines of my chest, and I realize he is right. Who knows how much time I had, or anyone for that matter? I experienced that with James. Why not dance with a man in a mansion than with a ghost alone?
Too late, I notice that Damon's hand has left my waist, and then the vibrator starts, a small gasp leaving my lips. Geezus. Luckily, it was at a low speed, but it was distracting nonetheless.
“Are you serious?” I whisper to Damon, the smirk on his face telling me he is .
Damon's hand tenses on my waist just before he moves when the familiar music drifts through the air around us. It was the same song I danced to at night, making the moves I had practiced easy to follow. Not that I would need it. Damon, by nature, is dominating, and dancing with him is no different.
He leads effortlessly, and my body follows his lead as if we have been doing this dance for years. It’s fluid, effortless, and sexy, to the point that I think this might be the most provocative moment of my life.
The tango requires passion and sensuality to be done correctly.
With Damon, there is an overload of those feelings.
Everywhere his hand touches, it is like a flame licking my skin, igniting my body.
Our eyes remain locked, and just like a movie, everything fades. It is just Damon, me, and the music.
My leg wraps around his thigh as I arch my back, rolling my hips against his before bringing my body slowly back up. Damon's eyes echo the desire in mine as he pulls me close and then spins me around, his hand splayed across my stomach while he dips his head into my neck.
Before I can savor the feeling, he is spinning me out and then spinning me back, my body once again pressed against the length of him.
The music ends, and I stand panting, his eyes blazing a trail across my face, my lips, down the collar of my neck. I am so turned on by the dance and the buzzing down below that I think I might orgasm right here in his arms.
Luckily, I don’t, as the room erupts with applause, breaking the cocoon of oblivion I was in. Reminding me there are other people.
I look around, and no one else is on the dance floor. Lady Chatman stands to the side with a massive smile as she claps with everyone else. The blush creeps up my cheeks, making me feel hotter. Bothered .
Ignoring the applause, Damon grabs my hand, leading me out through one of the double doors to the back patio, along the side, and around the large undercover pool. He is walking quickly, and I struggle to keep up in my heels.
“Damon, I can’t walk that fast.” And especially not with the vibrator making my legs weak.
Almost without breaking stride, Damon sweeps me up in his arms as he walks towards a door along the length of the patio.
He somehow manages to open the sliding door without putting me down, slamming it shut with his foot.
It is a room. An elegant one. With a giant king bed on a lipped ledge.
Damon drops me down onto the mattress and steps back, his expression severe.
“Did-did I do something wrong?” I stutter, worried I might have embarrassed him on the dance floor.
Damon leans forward, pressing his body against mine as the mattress indents under the weight.
My legs are forced apart, and with nowhere else to go, I wrap them around his hips as he grinds against me, his hardon rubbing against the thin material of my g-string.
“Do you feel what you do to me, Sienna? Do you feel the control you have over me?”
His voice is gruff, in contradiction to his actual words. He is angry and happy with me at the same time.
He pushes back off the bed, forcing me to unwrap my legs.
“Is your pussy as wet for me as my dick is hard for you, Sienna?”
The filthiness of his words makes the walls of my vagina clench where the now turned-off vibrator is nuzzled inside. It was a glorious torture. Like riding a rollercoaster .
I nod, Damon’s gaze still locked with mine.
“Show me.”
Show him. Show him how wet I am. I have never been in this situation before. It is terrifying and exciting. Conflicting emotions seem to be the theme of my feelings toward Damon.
Slowly, I raise my knees, causing the hem of my dress to fall towards my stomach.
Willing them to unclench, I edge them apart, Damon's eyes greedily taking in the view gradually being revealed.
I know I have a wet patch there. I could feel it spreading on the dance floor with every deliberate move of Damon's hands against my body. This was his fault. And the vibrators.
“Show me, Sienna.” Oh god, could I do that?
Damon’s sexual tendencies leaned toward taboo, and I thought I could handle it. But could I? I already allowed him to cuff me and spank my ass, so surely I could do this? And truthfully, the thought of exposing myself to him turned me on. Did that make me sick?
“Sienna. Get out of your mind and show me.” Damon’s voice is gentler, even as he orders me.
I want this.
I watch him as his eyes lock on my hand, and I slowly pull the soaked, thin red lace fabric to the side, the feel of it peeling away from my most intimate part as the cool air hits it, making me moan.
“Magnificent. A fucking masterpiece.” Damon drops to his knees while pulling me forward as I squeal in surprise.
One leg, and then the other, is placed over his shoulders, as his breath fans my left inner thigh. He is so close, and the ache that has been constantly humming in my core starts throbbing at his nearness. Knowing that he can relieve it.
“Have you enjoyed your friend tonight?” Damon’s husky voice asks, leaving me confused until he pulls on the little sting attached to the vibrator.
“Yes,” I admit quietly, thinking about how charged I feel. How on edge every cell in my body feels. Even my nipples are tingling. I have never been this sexually aroused in my life.
“Yes, what, Sienna?”
“Yes, Daddy Damon,” I whisper, that nickname making Damon's eyes close briefly before opening again.
“Good girl.”
Fuck me. Good girl. Those two words, coupled with Damon slowly pulling the vibrator from its home for the last couple of hours, drag a long moan from me. With my head rolled back and my eyes closed, I concentrate on not exploding right then and there.
Its final exit has me gasping, and once I have caught my breath, I look up just as Damon pops the red object into his mouth, sucking my juices from it as he looks at me pointedly.
Wow. All rational thought leaves me as he slowly pulls the object out of his mouth and throws it on the bed next to me.
“The taste of you, Sienna. It’s fucking addictive. You have no idea how good you taste.”
Oh. My. God.
In slow motion, I watch as his head dips, and then his tongue replaces the spot the vibrator had been moments ago, though this is so much better.
He is deranged. And so am I.
He laps and feasts like it’s his final meal while I let my legs fall to the side, giving in.
Allowing him full access to a place that has never experienced such exquisite torture.
He brings me to the brink and then pulls back as I cry out in frustration until I am begging him.
Pleading for him to give me what I need.
“Damon. Damon…please. Please. ”
My hands are in his hair, pushing him down as I grind against his mouth, his thumb circling my clit as his tongue delves into my depths, lapping up everything I have to give him while he demands more.
Until I think I am crazy. Insane. A mess.
Pleading, begging. Until he gives in and sucks on my clit as he thrusts two fingers inside me.
My world collapses in on itself as I explode, bursting into oblivion, until I am no more. What remains is something else. Something new. Something that has never been before. And I fucking love it.