Chapter Sixteen
Damien
M y obsession. The bane of my existence. My reason for breathing, for existing… for living.
She’s straddling my thighs, marking me with her mouth. Each hickey sears through my skin and straight into my fucking soul. My little flower, staking her claim, pressing her lips into my flesh like she’s carving herself into me. And she is. She already has. She’s in my blood, in my bones, in every breath I take.
Have I died? Is this heaven? Or is it some cruel hallucination—where I finally have what I want, but in the end, it’s just an illusion?
Because nothing has ever felt better than this.
But something festers beneath the pleasure. Something dark. Possessive. I love seeing her riled up, jealous, her touch desperate and needy. But I fucking hate that she had any reason to feel this way. She should never doubt where I belong. Who I belong to.
Her. Only her.
I’ve failed if she even had a second of insecurity.
Linda. That little parasite latched onto my life the moment I turned her down. Entitled. Pathetic. But now? Now she’s stepped into territory she has no business being in. She tried to put doubt in my flower’s mind. Tried to wedge herself between us.
She won’t get away with it. I’ll make sure of that.
Amelia pulls her mouth from my neck, her lips red and swollen. I feel her gaze peeling me open. Unconsciously, I turn my head, angling my face away.
Her fingers catch my jaw, forcing me to look at her. I’ve never hidden from anyone, never cared how anyone saw me. But her...
She’s staring at my lips like she wants to devour me, the same way I want to devour her.
I trace the swollen curve of her bottom lip. “I bet you’ve been wondering, haven’t you?” I rasp. “Why I tasted every delicious inch of you but not these lips.”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” she whispers.
I let out a dark laugh. “I wanted you to choose, little flower. I wanted you to decide if you wanted to kiss a beast of a man.” My thumb brushes her cheek. “I know my scar isn’t exactly—”
Something shifts in her expression. Something haunted. Broken. And fuck, I want to rip my own tongue out for whatever I said that made her look like that. Before I can say anything else, she crashes her lips into mine.
It’s forceful, almost clumsy, her lips just pressing to mine, unmoving. She doesn’t know how to kiss. It reminds me that I’m the first man to have this, to have her, in every way.
I take control, tilting my head, coaxing her lips open with mine, slowing her down, teaching her. My hands fist in her hair, keeping her where I need her. Her hands shake as they press against my chest, and I groan into her mouth, fucking obsessed with the way she melts for me.
When she pulls away, my breath is ragged, my restraint shredded.
And then she does something that destroys me.
She presses her lips to my scar. Kissing it.
My body locks up. My pulse stops. My whole world tilts sideways. The instinct to push her off, to turn away, is overwhelming. I’ve never been insecure about this scar, never gave a damn what anyone thought about it. But with her? With the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking seen?
I feel exposed. Raw. Like she deserves something better. Too bad for her. I’m the only man she’ll ever have.
I cradle her face in my hands. “You’re so sweet,” I whisper, breathing her in. “My little flower is so sweet.”
And she is. Too damn sweet for the likes of me. Too soft, too pure, and I should feel guilt for wanting to stain her with my touch; but I don’t.
I place her in the passenger seat, watching the way she pouts. “If you keep touching me like that, I won’t be able to control myself anymore,” I murmur. “And I’m not taking your virginity in a car.”
Her entire face turns scarlet, and I chuckle, gripping the wheel tight as I start the drive back to the restaurant. The sexual tension in the car is suffocating.
Not in a car, I remind myself. Not in that shitty storage room either.
She’s coming home with me. And when I finally take her, she’ll see fucking stars. And then, when I have her exactly where I want her, I’ll convince her to stay.
When we arrive at the restaurant, she fumbles with the keys, hands shaking slightly. I take them from her.
“Let me.” I unlock the door, and the moment it clicks shut behind us, I have her pinned against it.
My mouth crashes against hers, and she melts.
Soft. So fucking soft. She tastes like honey, warm and addicting, and just as I deepen the kiss, there’s a pounding on the door.
Fuck.
I already know who it is.
Linda.
I should’ve known she wouldn’t let this go. My fists tighten at my sides. If only my morals allowed me to kill her, this would be over. But I made a vow to myself the moment I escaped the man who pulled me into this world—a man so fucking insignificant now that I won’t even waste my breath saying his name.
After I ran, killing was all I knew. I tried to pull away. Took a shitty mechanic job. Barely scraped by. But then they found me; the people I used to do hits for. And they were convincing.
I gave in. But on my terms. No women. No innocents. No one forced into the life like I was.
Richard was one of the men who sought me out. Offered me six figures for a single hit. One of my oldest clients. But if his daughter keeps this shit up, I’ll throw him away without a second thought.
The pounding grows louder.
“Damien!” Linda screams, her voice laced with hysteria. “Open this damn door! I know you want me. She’s nothing compared to me. I have everything she doesn’t! What does she have that I don’t?!”
I don’t want to let her in. I don’t want Amelia anywhere near her. But I need to put a stop to this.
I rip open the door, and Linda nearly stumbles inside. She’s disheveled, her pupils blown wide with desperation.
“The only one I want is the woman standing right behind me.”
I don’t give her time to speak before I rip my car keys from my pocket and hurl them to the ground at her feet.
“Get in the car,” I command.
She smiles. A slow, sick, Cheshire grin. It’s like she didn’t hear anything I said before get in the car.
Sick, sick woman.
I see it in her eyes; she thinks she’s won. That something is going to happen between us in that car. Pathetic.
She scrambles for the keys, rushes to my car, and starts the engine. It’s like she’s a dog trained to obey.
I turn back to Amelia. She’s glaring at me, arms crossed, jaw tight. I grab her face, kissing her again, this time right in front of Linda, making damn sure she knows exactly where I stand.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas in your pretty little head,” I murmur against her lips. “I want you. Only you. I’m going to return Linda to her father and have her put in her place.”
Her glare softens slightly. “I don’t like it,” she admits. “She’s in your car. In your space. Alone. What if—”
“Don’t.” My voice is a growl. “Don’t even finish that fucking sentence.” I cage her in, pressing her back against the door again. “Even the thought of another woman putting her hands on me fills me with rage. No one touches me but you. No one touches you but me.”
My chest tightens at how sweet she looks, even when she’s mad.
“Pack a bag,” I order. “You’re coming home with me after this; I’m going to show you just how much I belong to you.”
With one last peck on her lips, I head to my car. The second I get inside, Linda reaches for me.
I snap.
My fingers coil around her wrist like a vice. Violently, I shove her off.
“Try that again, and I’ll break every last delusion in your fucked-up head,” I threaten. “You don’t touch me. You don’t even breathe in my direction.”
Linda startles but quickly recovers. “You wouldn’t have let me in your car if you didn’t want me here.”
“The only reason you're in my car is because you wouldn’t have walked on your own two feet where I’m taking you.”
“What does she have that I don’t?” she wails. “I could give you so much more, Damien. Power, wealth, anything you want. She’s just a naive little girl.”
I slam the brakes. The tires screech, the force jerking her forward.
My head slowly turns to her, and whatever she sees in my expression drains the color from her face.
“Say one more word about her. Fucking try it,” I dare her.
She presses herself against the seat, suddenly aware of the monster she’s been trying to tempt. But she’s too far gone to back off now. She recovers, shaking her head.
“You think she’s different? That she’s pure? She’ll ruin you, Damien. She doesn’t understand us.”
“There is no us ,” I snarl. “And the only thing ruining me right now is your fucking voice.”
For the first time since this whole ordeal started, she finally looks scared.
Good. She should be.
I press the gas, taking a sharp turn. When she recognizes where we are, the blood drains from her face completely.
“No,” she screams. “You wouldn’t.”
I don’t answer. I just drive.
When we pull up, she tries to bolt. I grab her arm before she can, dragging her out of the car. She fights, but it’s pathetic. I’m disgusted by her desperation, by the way she still thinks this will end any other way.
I throw her forward, shoving her through the doors.
The men inside barely glance up as I toss her like garbage in front of Richard.
Richard doesn’t say a word. Just eyes his daughter, who is sprawled on the floor, shaking.
“Your daughter’s been following me around like a damn leech,” I say flatly. “No matter how many times I tell her no, she refuses to listen. I don’t have patience for this shit, Richard. If she comes near me again, our business is done.”
His face darkens. He looks at Linda with barely concealed rage. I can see the wheels turning in his head. He loves his daughter; never tells her no, but not enough to risk everything he’s built. Not enough to risk me not being on his team. My skills are the best money can offer; I eliminate men most are scared to even utter the names of. Me not taking his hits means a loss of power.
“Linda,” he bellows. “Is this true?”
“Daddy, please—”
He slams his whiskey glass down. “I asked you a question.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “I love him, Daddy. I love him! He’s meant to be with me, not her.”
“Enough.”
He exhales slowly, then looks at me.
“Consider it handled, Damien. This will never happen again.”
Linda sobs. “Please, no, don’t do this. I’ll stop, I swear. I won’t go near him again.”
“You had your chance, girl.”
Richard gestures to one of his men, who steps forward.
“Make the call.”
“No!” she gasps, clawing at the floor. “Daddy, please, not him! Anyone but him!”
But it’s too late. The phone call is made, and within minutes, her fate is sealed.
An arranged marriage. The man on the other end of the call is eager, and I can hear his excitement through the speaker.
She collapses, crying hysterically, but I don’t give a fuck.
I turn to walk away, but not before delivering one last blow.
“Linda, if there’s a next time, I won’t be so merciful.”