Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Damien
Amyriad of emotions battle for dominance on her face.
Fear tugging at the corners of her eyes, anger flaring her nostrils, recognition flickering in her pupils, and beneath it all, desire pooling in the flush of her cheeks and the parting of her lips.
She’s trying so hard to hide it, but her body betrays her, a series of subtle cues that tell me everything she won’t say.
“How did you get in?”
Her voice quivers, and the sound shoots straight through me. Part of me wants to comfort her terror. Another part feeds on it.
“The alarm—”
“Was child’s play. As advanced as Damien Wolfe’s systems are, they’re no match for me, Luna.”
She squares her shoulders, but she can’t hide the tremor that runs through her body. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps. She’s afraid, yes, but there’s more. So much more.
“You need to stop breaking into my house. This twisted game is over, and I want you to leave.”
I admire her courage as I lean forward, savoring the way her wide eyes track my movement.
“Breaking in implies I had to work for it.” Annoyance sparks in her eyes. “And that’s not going to happen, Luna. You let me taste you last night. Really taste you. There’s no going back from that.”
“I said get out.” Her voice is firmer now, but her hands tremble as she raises the bat higher.
She has good form. I try to remember if Cade’s background check mentioned her playing softball as a child, but I’m distracted. The sight of her t-shirt inching up, exposing her smooth, creamy thighs, fills my mind with images of them wrapped around me.
“I’ll call the sheriff this time.”
“With what?” I hold up her phone before placing it on the side table, never taking my eyes off the thighs I intend to be buried between in minutes.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
I reluctantly drag my gaze up and meet her eyes through my mask.
“Like what?”
“Like… a wolf eyeing its dinner.”
I lick my lips. “Oh, I am.”
She tightens her grip on the bat.
“I’ll scream. If I scream, Shadow won’t defer to you. He’ll attack.”
It’s an empty threat. I heard her close her bedroom door before she came downstairs.
“I don’t think so.” My voice is steady despite the fire growing in my veins. “We both know you don’t want me to leave.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
I stand, setting the shotgun aside. I’ve never needed weapons to feel powerful, but she doesn’t know that. She takes an instinctive step back as I approach.
“I know exactly what you want, little doe.” My voice turns rough. “I know because you showed me when you so beautifully came apart on my tongue.”
“That was… That was a mistake.”
“You said that about the night you shattered on my fingers too.” Another step brings me closer. Her lips part, chest rising and falling in quick bursts as she presses against the wall. “If you really don’t want this, why haven’t you run or swung that bat?”
Her knuckles whiten as I reach for it. Our fingers brush, hers ice-cold and trembling. The bat slides from her grip. I drop it with a hollow thud on the hardwood and kick it aside. Her pupils dilate, dark pools expanding to swallow the hazel irises.
“It’s time, Luna.”
“Time for what?” A soft exhale escapes her lips.
“You know.” I lean in until I can feel the heat radiating from her skin. Her eyelids flutter closed, then open. Her throat ripples as she swallows. “You know exactly what happens next.”
She shakes her head, sending waves of hair cascading over her shoulders. My fingers trace the delicate line of her jaw. Her skin is soft and warm beneath my fingertips.
“Denying it won’t stop me.”
I trail my fingers down the column of her neck, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath her skin. It beats against my touch like it’s trying to escape her body. My hand closes around her throat, a firm grip that sends a clear message.
Her eyes widen, fear flickering in their depths. Her breath hitches. Beneath my thumb, her heartbeat thrums, pounding with a genuine fear of me.
She reaches up, her fingers wrapping around my hand, trying to pry it away, but my grip is unyielding. Her nails dig into my skin in a futile attempt to break free.
“What are you—”
“I’m claiming what’s mine.”
I wrench her away from the wall. She stumbles as I spin her, her back colliding with my chest. I drag her against me until no space remains between us—her body pressed to mine, her warmth bleeding through my clothes.
She arches away, her spine curving as she tries to create distance that doesn’t exist. My arm locks around her waist, crushing her against me.
She’s so small compared to me, so delicate, yet I sense the steel beneath her softness.
“Please don’t kill me.” Her pulse batters against my palm, frantic and uneven.
“I’m not going to kill you, Luna.” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “I’m going to ruin you.”
She claws at my hand, her nails scraping against my skin, her body thrashing in my grip. She tries to speak, but no words come out, only desperate gasps.
“Tell me you want this, Luna. Give me your consent.”
I loosen my fingers but don’t release her. She sucks in a sharp breath as her lungs expand, a harsh, rasping sound that fills the silence.
“And if I don’t, you’ll just take it. Like you did last night.”
“Yes.”
She drops her hands. “Then why does it matter if I give you consent?”
“Because I know you want it. You want me to take you, Luna. Claim you. You want it as much as I do.”
“I don’t.”
Liar.
I’ll indulge her denial for now. She needs time to wrap her mind around it, to accept the truth of her desires.
“I’m not going to give you permission to rape me.”
“It’s not rape when you surrender willingly.” I tighten my fingers again but don’t cut off her air. “And you will surrender, Luna.”
“Who are you?”
I hesitate. Names have power. The moment I speak it, I hand her a weapon, so my real identity must remain hidden. For now. Possibly forever.
“You don’t need my name to come on my cock.
” My lips brush the curve where her neck meets her shoulder.
“And you will come on me tonight, Luna. More times than you think possible. Your cunt’s going to milk me dry.
Then, when you’re sure I’m done, when you think your body can’t take anymore, I’ll rut you so fucking deep you’ll squirt all over me while you beg me never to stop. ”
“Jesus. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
I chuckle at her feeble attempt at bravery. “My mother’s dead. So, no. But the things my mouth is going to do to you would make even a dead woman blush.”
“I’m sorry about your mother.” She softens, her voice filled with sincerity. I pause, her words stopping me short. I know she lost hers at ten, but she can’t fathom the cruel, neglectful, vindictive woman my mother was.
“Don’t be. She got exactly what she deserved. Now it’s time to stop stalling, Luna.”
I release her throat, and she inhales a relieved breath, sagging against me. Her body trembles, a violent tremor that makes my dick throb against her spine.
I slide my fingers over her collarbone, then down between her breasts. Her heart pounds against my palm as I march her forward, toward the kitchen. Since walking through it the other night, all I can think about is bending her over the large oak table and fucking her raw.
“What are you doing?” She struggles. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere I can spread you out.”
Moonlight coming through the window over the sink bathes the kitchen in a soft glow. It makes her skin shimmer like a pearl as I walk her across the room. I spin her to face me before lifting her onto the table.
“Please don’t do this.” She tries to wriggle off, but I press my hands against the tops of her thighs, holding her in place.
“Stop fighting this.” I pull her legs apart and step between them. “Lift your arms.”
She glares at me, defiance more than fear flashing in her eyes now. They flit to the back door.
“Don’t even think about it because you won’t get far. Whether it’s here on this table or on the grass in your backyard, you’re taking my cock tonight, Luna. You’re going to come all over me. Over. And over. And over.”
She goes still. Her lips part just enough for a quick intake of breath as she tries to disguise how my words affect her. But her body can’t lie.
“Now lift your arms.”
Her eyes trace the mask covering my face, almost as if she’s trying to figure out who I am. I pinch the soft flesh of her inner thighs, and she jolts.
“Ow.”
“Do it.”
She raises her arms. I grip the cotton hem and pull the fabric up and over her head. The t-shirt lands somewhere behind me. She sits before me in nothing but pale lace panties, her skin flushed in the dim light.
My mouth finds her breast, lips closing around the tight peak of her nipple.
My teeth graze the sensitive tip while my tongue traces patterns that make her breath catch.
I cup the weight of her other breast in my palm, my thumb tracing lazy loops until her skin pebbles and tightens.
Her head tips back, and a sound escapes—half sigh, half surrender—as her body yields to me, pliant and willing.
Her hands rise toward my face. I catch her wrists before she can reach me, my grip punishing as I pin her arms behind her back.
“No. My mask stays on!”
With a gasp, her spine curves, and her breasts push forward.
“I just wanted to touch you.”
The words hang between us, raw with need.
“You don’t fucking touch me unless I tell you to.”
Those beautiful hazel eyes search my face, swirling with a mixture of confusion and want. Her brows draw together, lips parting as if to speak, then closing again.
“But how’s this going to work?”
“Very simply. You’re going to take my cock exactly as I give it to you.” My thumb presses against the pulse in her wrist. “I touch you, little doe, not the other way around.”
Fire flashes across her features. Her jaw sets, muscles tensing as she pulls against my grip.
“I’m not looking to be raped. If that’s what this is going to be, you can just leave.”
Her defiance is so fucking beautiful, a challenge that I can’t resist. I lean forward, tracing my lips along her neck with just enough contact to make her shiver.
Her pulse races beneath my touch. I bite down, and she gasps, back arching as I leave my mark.
Her skin tastes of salt and a sweetness that makes me want to devour her whole.
My tongue traces the spot I’ve reclaimed. She turns her face to the side, exposing more of her throat, and her warm breath ghosts across the exposed skin below my mask. The warmth is unsettling, more intimate than I expect.
“Kiss me.” The words tumble from her lips, her voice breaking on the plea.
I lift my head and look down into her face. “No. No kissing.”
Her face crumples and then hardens again. “Why not?”
Silence stretches between us. I release her wrists and pull her from the table in one fluid motion. Her legs shake as she stands, surprised by the sudden movement.
Kissing her is not an option. It’ll make it too personal, and I need to keep this—her—separate. She knows I’m a killer, and despite having opportunities to tell the police, she’s kept my secret. But I can’t be sure she won’t change her mind if she knows my real identity.
My gut tells me I can trust her, but my mind, the part of me that has spent twenty-five years alone in the shadows, remains hesitant and unconvinced.
It’s time she learns who’s in control here.