2. Damien
Damien
“ Y ou may kiss your bride.”
Bride.
The last few hours came back to me in a whirlwind of pictures and snippets of time. The memories faded as I looked into Ella’s blue eyes. “My bride,” I whispered.
She nodded. “That makes you my groom.”
Her eyes closed as our lips touched.
My sister’s applause reminded me that we weren’t alone.
I squeezed Ella’s hands. “You amaze me.”
Possessively placing my hand in the small of Ella’s back, we thanked Pastor Abrams for her time and services as she again promised to come through with the license. Turning, I met the stare of my brother. He and Amber stood and made their way to the front of the chapel.
Darius offered his hand. “Congratulations on your marriage. Sunday wedding and all. Hope you can make it legal.”
Refusing his handshake, I pulled Ella to my side. “Dad is going to recover.”
He turned to Ella. “If that’s the case, you chained yourself to this guy for no good reason.”
“I have a good reason,” she replied with her chin high. “It’s called love.”
Amber huffed.
That’s right, bitch. The rebuttal was on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I spoke to both of them. “And I hope you’re both very happy with one another. Your marriage won’t secure Sinclair for either of you.” I turned my stare to Amber. “And I hope you’re happy with a downgrade.”
Amber lunged forward, her palm striking my cheek.
Ella’s body stiffened beneath my touch as Darius pulled his wife a step back, keeping his arms around her.
Without a flinch, I added, “Discussions of Sinclair Pharmaceuticals as well as the addendum are officially tabled.”
Struggling against Darius’s hold, Amber pressed forward. “My mother is calling the members of the board for an emergency meeting. It’s going to happen.”
Taking a step closer, I stood tall. My words came staccato, seeping from between my clenched teeth. “ All. Business. Will. Wait. Until. We. Have. More. News. About. Dad.” My nostrils flared. “This discussion is over.”
Darius attempted to return civility to the conversation. “As a family, we need to show unity and make a public move before consumer confidence?—”
My volume rose, reverberating throughout the small chapel. “I am CEO. Dad’s condition—" My hands balled to fists at my side. “This conversation is over.”
There were too many things happening out of my control.
My skin felt taut as my inability to fix everything or anything ate at my insides.
I reached for Ella’s hand. “Come with me.”
Ella nodded as I led her out of the chapel and down the empty hallways.
I’d been in this damn hospital for more than a few days before, yet I wasn’t sure where I was leading Ella until I saw the sign.
“Damien?” she questioned as I led her toward a single bathroom.
“Privacy.”
Ella seemed to accept my answer.
As I pulled open the door, the rush of emotions from moments ago raced through my circulation. There was the elation that Ella was now mine in every way. That said, I couldn’t ignore the nagging sadness and worry about my father. Those emotions were far from the only ones coursing through me. There was the continued shock at Darius and Amber’s announcement. Rage that Amber and her mother planned to take advantage of Sinclair during this vulnerable time.
However, as Ella stepped inside the ten-by-six-foot room and I turned and bolted the door, one sensation overtook the others. Control. I needed it. I thrived on it. I’d let it slip away, and I wanted it back. Before Ella could say a word, her chin was in my grasp, my hand lifting her mouth to mine.
Wife.
Husband.
We’d both promised our ‘I dos.’
Fuck yes.
She was mine.
With my world crumbling beyond the bolted door, Ella was the sun, the giver of light and life. More than that, Ella filled me with warmth. No, stronger than that. Extreme heat.
Embers that were nearly extinct since the news about my father were now a raging inferno.
My tongue sought entrance between her lips as our kiss deepened. In a matter of seconds, my hunger for this woman intensified. I was ravished, famished beyond reason. Snaking my arm around her waist, I pressed against her, flattening her breasts and grinding my growing erection against her. Small mews and moans echoed within the tiled room as our breathing hastened. Her fingers wove through my hair.
Our surroundings no longer registered.
Ella was my bride. She’d sacrificed her independence for me, for my position at Sinclair.
My future had been slipping through my fingers, and now I had a tight grip.
Tugging her top from her jeans, my hands roamed over her velvet flesh. Without thinking, I pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Pushing the cups of her bra down, I tweaked one nipple and then the next. Each ministration earned me a whimper.
“Wife,” I growled, allowing the word to sink in.
“Damien.”
With my fingers on the button of her blue jeans, I paused, lifting my gaze to meet hers. “Are you sorry?”
Ella was a vision, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips pink and swollen. Her answer began as a shake of her head until finally her verbal reply filtered through the air. “No.”
“You’re fucking mine, Ella. I need to be inside you.” Before she could protest, I laid my finger over her perfect lips. “In some cultures, consummating the marriage is required.” I bent down, sucked a pert nipple, pulling it between my lips.
Goose bumps swept over her exposed flesh.
“I’m going to show you what you do to me.”
“Your family…”
I turned us toward the mirror, the one over the sink. Within the reflection, I was far removed from the man on top of a wedding cake. Hell no. I appeared crazed. Derangement gleamed in my eyes and adrenaline coursed through my circulation. By contrast, Ella was a vision, her dark hair loose around her shoulders and her breasts on full display. “Look at us. We are the only family that matters.” Reaching around her, I unclasped the button of her blue jeans and lowered the zipper. “Hands on the sink.”
For a split second, Ella hesitated. My lips went to her sensitive skin behind her ear. Each word blowing a puff of warm breath onto her neck, I lowered the tenor of my voice. “Don’t disobey me, Ella.”
I needed this.
It wasn’t an admission I could make aloud; nonetheless, my silence didn’t lessen that need.
Control.
Dominance.
I craved them.
Watching Ella’s reaction in the mirror, I witnessed her submission. A nod. A visible shiver coating her skin in more goose bumps. Her nipples tightened, and her areolas grew a deeper red. The golden band on her left hand glistened in the artificial illumination.
“Hold on tight. Don’t move your hands.”
Her knuckles blanched as her grip of the porcelain tightened.
Crouching down, I removed her shoes, one at a time. Tugging the jeans to her ankles, I pulled one leg from the pants. It was as I lowered her panties that I knew she was as willing to give me control as I was to take it.
Her essence shimmered in the bright illumination, and her sweet aroma filled my senses. I pushed a finger between her folds. As the room echoed with her gasp, a smile curled my lips. “I love how wet you are.”
Positioning her feet farther apart, I tugged her hips toward me, my tongue delving where my finger had just been.
“Oooh,” she shrieked.
As I stood, I peppered her ass, back, and neck with kisses. Meeting her gaze in the reflection, I said, “I remember the way you liked this—stealing away for a quick fuck.”
Her neck straightened as she inhaled, and yet there wasn’t a syllable of protest.
Unbuttoning my jeans and lowering the zipper, I scanned from Ella’s sock-covered feet to her mussed hair. Her body was perfection like no other. Kicking her feet even farther apart, I pressed her spine, lowering her torso to the sink and lined up the head of my cock with her pussy.
Yes, I wanted this, the complete control, yet I wasn’t a monster. Ella would enjoy this as much as I did. One raw, animalistic thrust buried me deep inside her warm, wet cunt.
“Fuck,” I growled as she called out my name.
Her pussy clamped down like a vise around me.
The last few hours disappeared as I thrust in and out.
This ritual was more than sex. It was an exorcism of the last two years. Each prod was an eraser, expunging our time apart. The fastness and fury of my fucking was Ella’s punishment for leaving me. My cock glistened with her juices as I watched each time I pulled out to the tip and pushed back in, her pussy swallowing me whole.
Our bodies covered with perspiration and audibly slapped together as I pounded, her hips banging against the sink’s edge. As I reached around and rolled her clit, her body shuddered, signaling the end to the punishment.
We both reaped the reward of our reunion.
In the reflection I beheld the beauty of her bliss. The way Ella’s orgasm drew her lips to a bow while her core continued convulsing and her body trembling. A few more thrusts as my fingers blanched with the pressure I was applying to her hips and the world around us exploded.
No longer in a hospital bathroom, we were floating in the bliss of the tropical Florida sky. The star-covered darkness filled with fireworks. Detonation after detonation flashed behind my eyelids as my balls tightened and my cock throbbed.
With my heart beating in double time, I leaned over Ella and peppered her shoulder and neck with more kisses. “I’ve missed this.”
Her blue gaze met mine in the mirror. “You forgot a condom again.”
Disconnecting our union, I pushed my erection back into my jeans, and reaching for her shoulders, I stood her up and spun her toward me. My cheeks rose in a lopsided grin. “Don’t clean yourself. While I’m dealing with life out there, I want to think of my come on your thighs.”
Ella shook her head. “I’ve married a monster.”
Her quick response made my grin grow. “A monster wouldn’t have let you come.”
She lifted her fingers to my cheek. “Then what are you, Damien Sinclair?”
“Your husband. You agreed to obey me.”
“I don’t recall that line from the ceremony.”
“Oh, it was there.” I crouched down and lifted her lace panties from the floor.
Ella sighed. “I’m glad I’m wearing jeans.”
Something akin to a savage possessiveness came over me as I scanned Ella’s nearly naked form from her hair to her toes. “No jeans currently, and you’re fucking gorgeous. Do you know what else you are?” Before she could respond, I said, “Mine.” Lifting the crotch of her panties to my nose, I inhaled her sweet scent. “They’re already wet. Now they’ll have the combination of the two of us.” I handed her the panties.
“You’re a lot to handle, Damien.”
Securing her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I focused on her satiated blue orbs. “You are the only one who can handle me. Physically, we fit together perfectly. Emotionally, you’re my soulmate. You are now Mrs. Sinclair. There’s no turning back.”
“I think I meant it,” she said as she situated her pert breasts into her bra, pulled her panties into place, and then eased her blue jeans up her legs. After pulling her shirt over her head and tucking it into the waist of her jeans, Ella looked at me. “Five months, Mr. Sinclair. That’s how long you have to remind me why I want to stay with you. Rekindle.”
I thought about the inscription. “Sweetheart, if what we just did was rekindling, in five months, we’ll burn this place to the ground.”