Chapter 15 #3
I find myself desperately hoping that she will like it.
That home represents the fulfillment of a childhood dream.
I’ll always remember the vacation I once took in Vermont, where my mother’s more affluent sister lived.
To me, she seemed incredibly wealthy, though I doubt she was more than middle class.
Still, it felt like a breath of fresh air to spend two weeks in that white-shingled house with the dark green shutters and door, and the white picket fence that enclosed a small yard.
I even had my own room there, a bed with a mattress and a dresser for my clothes.
I remember how different it was from my own hectic upbringing, my alcoholic mother and my abusive father.
The tumble-down shack on the riverfront.
The bedroom the three of us shared. I slept on the floor.
There was no running water, and I’d wash myself every morning before school with the freezing cold garden hose, doing my best not to wake anyone.
Mom stayed in bed all day, nursing her hangovers, and Dad, well…
I never really knew what he did with his days.
All I did know was that he would beat the shit out of me if I caused him to remember my existence.
I owned nothing. Not the clothes on my back, not the food in my stomach. Anything I got, Dad reminded me he could take away just as easily. He made me feel like a charity case, and I was his fucking son. I was very young when I made up my mind that one day, I’d own everything.
The one pinprick of happiness in my childhood was that vacation in Vermont.
Aunt Janet was a sharp-nosed stay-at-home mother and Uncle Gerald wore suits.
My cousin Will was a pudgy, somewhat whiny boy.
But I only have vague memories of them. When I think back to that time, I mostly fixate on the house.
Abstract dreams of ownership were sharpened as I decided that what I would own one day was wealth.
The kind of wealth that would allow me to buy a house just like the one Aunt Janet and Uncle Gerald lived in.
I became wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, but the house in Vermont remained a distant illusion, something I even forgot I had once wanted. That is, until I lost Seraphina. Then, it all came rushing back, in the form of what ifs.
Still, in spite of all the pain, all the frustration, I would shatter a thousand of my own childhood dreams before I would truly hurt her again.
Sighing, I wheel the suitcase to the entrance, then sit back down on the bed just as she comes out.
She’s taken advantage of my packing to freshen up a bit, shower and do her best to style her hair and apply a little makeup.
Thankfully, she’s not very good at it, and I can see the raw beauty shining beneath it.
I don’t usually have an opinion about makeup, but on her face, it’s positively a crime.
“Go right back in there and take it all off,” I order when she comes out.
She pauses, and I note a touch of rebellion in her eyes. But she clearly thinks better of whatever she was planning to do or say, turns around, and goes back into the bathroom. I try to view it as a sign of submission, but I have an uncomfortable feeling she’s merely decided to choose her battles.
Annoyed again, I bang open the bathroom door, and she jumps, startled. The makeup remover is still in the cupboard. Clearly, she had no intention of obeying me. But against all odds, her defiant look turns me on.
“Tsk, tsk,” I chuckle, drawing near. “What a very naughty girl you are.”
The defiance turns to anger at my teasing, and her hands ball into fists. I guess, after her initial relief, she must have grown resentful at my earlier punishment. Too bad, because I’ve just decided I’m going to give her another one.
“Do I need to spank you again to make you behave?”
“No,” she scowls in a voice that is clearly meant to sound angry.
But I chuckle again as I notice how her breathing grows quicker, even as she struggles to keep the defiance in her eyes. She clearly understands me enough to realize that this punishment isn’t going to be a real one, and she’s just as aroused as I am.
“Keep the makeup on, if you want,” I rumble as I stop inches away from her. I can feel the heat of her body, and her stiff nipples graze my abs. “By the time I’m finished with you, it’ll be running down your cheeks.”
I kiss her ferociously before pushing her down to her knees.
Then I unzip my pants, my cock aching with need. I pull it out and her defiance melts altogether as she eyes it greedily.
I barely give her a chance to get a breath in before I’m pressing my cock into her mouth, filling her, ramming it into the back of her throat so hard she nearly gags.
But she’s as hungry for me as I am for her, and her tongue enthusiastically explores every inch of it, before she closes her mouth around it and starts to suck.
I drag her to the wall and pin her to it, grabbing a fistful of her hair to prevent her from moving, squeezing her neck with my other hand to control her breathing.
The look on her face as she gasps for air makes me harder than ever.
I thrust into her mouth with nearly the same force I fucked her with, penetrating her until I can barely take it anymore.
Then I quickly withdraw, flip her around, pull her panties down, and this time, I push into her ass.
“Damien,” she breathes.
My cock swells at the sound of my name falling from her lips.
l I tear into her, groaning at the feeling of her tight inner walls nearly crushing me.
I’ve fucked her there before, but not nearly as often as her pussy, and every time I claim her there, she’s just as tight as she was in the beginning.
I growl, pushing myself fully into her, grabbing her ass roughly, the angry crescent marks of my fingernails on her flesh blending in with the redness of her cheeks.
I pound into her, thrusting hard, as she stands flush against the wall, her hands pressing against it to keep from falling.
Still keeping a punishing hold on her neck, I encircle her waist with my other arm, lift her, and push her over the side of the bathtub.
In this position, I can fuck her even harder, so hard she can’t do a thing but take it.
“Damien…” she gasps again. “Damien, I want you… I want all of you...”
Those words are nearly enough to make me come. I squeeze her throat, feeling her pulse beat wildly beneath my fingers, drinking in the intoxicating sensation of ownership. Then my other hand finds her pussy and rewards her.
“Damien,” she moans louder than ever, her voice coming out in a squeak through her restricted air pipe.
She comes first with a sharp cry, and her inner walls constricting around my cock have me following soon after.
The orgasm is intense, but so is my frustration.
I keep my cock buried in her ass, my hand on her pussy, punishing her by rubbing at her sensitive flesh until she’s whining from overstimulation.
At last, I take pity on her and withdraw, nearly growing hard again as I see the cum dribbling out of her ass. I pull her up and bite her lip so hard I taste copper before tearing myself away. “Let’s go, pet.”
She follows me submissively, but I’m fully aware that underneath the quiet exterior is a tempest waiting to explode. And right now, I can’t say I entirely mind. I can’t wait to punish her like this again.
Encircling her shoulders with one arm, I seize the suitcase then guide her to the front door, pulling it shut behind me.
“Where are we going?” she questions, her voice a little loud and forceful. She’s still not entirely gotten into the habit of using it.
Before I can answer, we both freeze. Logan’s standing in front of us.
“Motherfucker,” I grunt.
“Traveling?” he asks.
“Yeah, asshole. So let me pass. Whatever it is can wait.”
“I don’t think so.”
I glare at him, but he hardly flinches.
“I just received the exact itinerary of your trip. Can you tell me if this is correct?”
He holds the screen of his phone to me, and I’m vaguely thankful that he’s thoughtful enough not to blurt it all out. It’s supposed to be a surprise.
Though I’m well aware it might not be a very happy surprise for her.
“Yeah,” I say. “Why did Vincent send you that info?”
“He didn’t,” says Logan, his voice tight with concern. “This message was sent to me by Noel.”