Chapter 19
Damien
Seraphina is sleeping soundly, her head on my chest, the tiniest trickle of drool spilling out of the side of her mouth.
I wipe it away gently with my thumb. She looks so sweet like this, so innocent, so fragile.
I don’t think I’d ever experienced fear before I met her.
But now, I’m well aware of how much I stand to lose.
I hold her to me, breathing her in. There’s something so special at the thought that she’s able to fall asleep on me. I bring her comfort. I like to turn her on, to scare her, even to make her angry when I tease her. But nothing means more than knowing she feels safe with me.
This isn’t the wedding day I wanted to give her. I’m furious at Angel, not just for threatening my girl, but also, for making me run.
I’ve never been one to run before. I hate the very idea. But I can’t take chances with Seraphina.
The minute I’ve brought her to a safe space, though, I will stop running.
I’ll finish this, once and for all. I have to.
The thought of bloodshed soothes me, and I let myself sink into a deep, if short, sleep.
__
When I awake three hours later, she’s still sound asleep, her head still against my chest. She’s so gorgeous like this, her full lips parted, her long eyelashes resting on her pale cheeks tinged with soft pink, the moonlight filtering through the window making her dark curls shine.
Then my eyes travel downward, and I inhale at the sight.
The blanket has slipped from her, revealing one of her creamy breasts. Her legs are straddling the sheets, and her beautiful bottom is in full view. I drag a finger over her breasts, onto her stomach, and around the back of her, cupping her globes. She moans slightly and my cock hardens.
Gently, I push her so she’s lying on her back, plant a deep kiss on her lips, then one on each of her nipples, before nestling myself between her legs.
She moans loudly as I lap and suck her folds, then delve deep inside her.
She’s still sleeping when I find the place that I know makes her crazy, and attack it relentlessly with my tongue, before darting back out and sucking on her clit.
She tastes so fucking good. I could spend the rest of my life with my face buried in her pussy.
She’s still asleep as her body starts to spasm, and I greedily lap up her creamy arousal while my fingers find her nipples and crush them between my fingers. The pain awakens her and she opens her eyes just as her body bucks from an intense orgasm.
She stares at me, her eyes full of a confused, foggy sort of bliss. I take a mental snapshot of her like that, her hair tousled, her cheeks flushed, her hands tied, her body naked and mine. Then I turn her on her stomach and smack her ass hard.
The confusion melts under a squeal of surprised pain and I chuckle before planting a kiss on her freckled nose.
“Time to get up, pet,” I order, unfastening her handcuffs regretfully.
“Can you… Can you…” she hesitates, appearing to weigh her words. “I want you,” she finishes lamely, her eyes darting up to analyze my reaction.
I grin and give her another kiss, this time on her lips. “No time. We have to get ready.”
She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes, clearly disappointed. I’m doing my best to keep my mind from my own arousal, but now’s not the time to get distracted. Before she’s even fully awake, I’ve pushed her toward the shower, getting in after her, and turn on the hot water.
“What time is it?” she mumbles as I begin to lather her with the cheap soap the motel room is stocked with.
“Not quite six,” I say. “Perfect time to finish our road trip. Now be quiet.”
It’s almost like I’m addicted to riling her up. But she doesn’t react other than by chewing her lower lip. I don’t know if it’s because she recognizes the threat is real, or because she’s not a morning person.
Probably the latter.
We’re a very mismatched couple in that way, because I definitely am a morning person. A night owl, too. In fact, three or four hours a night are more than sufficient for me. But she looks like she could use about three times as much sleep as I’ve allowed her.
Still, exhaustion doesn’t prevent her from looking as horny as I feel.
She presses herself against me, her body flush against mine.
My hands reach around her and land on her ass, before I slip a hand in her crack.
She wriggles expectantly under me, but I merely apply soap to her, chortling at her renewed disappointment.
Now that she’s finally showing me how much she wants me, I’m getting off on denying her.
I really am a sadist.
I lather her nether regions a little longer than is strictly necessary before taking a plastic razor from the stand. Lifting each of her arms gently, I run it up and down her armpits and kiss them lightly. My stubble on her sensitive skin makes her jump, and I smirk.
Then I kneel between her legs and shave her mound, capture her clit in my mouth and suck it again. She whimpers, arching into me, and I can tell how much she wants it.
But I stand up again, and she actually groans in disappointment. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you harder than I’ve ever fucked you before,” I growl. “But you’re going to have to be patient.”
She grits her teeth in annoyance, but I ignore her reaction and shut off the water. Then I gather her in a thin, grating towel and rub her dry.
She surprises me by suddenly pulling me into an embrace and pressing her lips to mine.
The towel falls to the floor as I pick her up and crush her to the wall, her legs folding themselves around my waist. I kiss her forcefully, violently, but she returns every inch of my passion, biting my lip so hard I taste copper, her hands clawing into me.
I come up for breath at last, panting hard.
“Seraphina,” I breathe into her ear, and she shivers. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“I want you,” she repeats, and this time, she’s wide awake, her large violet eyes fixed on mine as if daring me to walk away.
It takes everything I have to peel away from her. But I’m not going to let her call the shots. Not now, not ever.
“Then you’ll just have to wait,” I say, turning away, then smirk as I hear her hiss in frustration.
I rummage in the suitcase until I find a short white eyelet dress. I’d filled the suitcase to the brim with pretty white dresses. She won’t be forgetting she’s my bride in a hurry.
She doesn’t say a word but she doesn’t have to, her violet eyes glaring at me as I push the dress over her then sit her down on the edge of the bed.
She’s angry at me denying her, angry that I’m treating her like a helpless doll, angrier still that I find her anger amusing.
I can read it all in her eyes, and it makes me smirk.
Little by little, I’m pushing past that thick wall she’d erected all around her. Little by little, I’m wearing her down. Breaking her. Proving to her she’s mine, and there’s nothing she can do about it.
The very thought that I own her is enough to make me hard again. But I didn’t wake her so early just to annoy her. Every nerve in my body is reminding me we’re on the run. We’ve taken enough time as it is. We need to go.
Quickly, I gather our things and zip shut the suitcase. I check my phone and breathe in relief as I read Logan’s message: All clear.
Finally, it’s time to go home. Our home.
Taking the suitcase in one hand, I guide her to the car, or rather, drag her, because this morning, she’s definitely putting up a fight.
Well, not a real one. It’s like she’s clinging to the last bits of her resistance, knowing soon I’m going to finish destroying it, and claim her entirely.
I buckle the seatbelt over her lap, ignoring her glowering stare, and settle into the driver’s seat.
She seems to have forgotten there’s any danger at all, especially since I’m driving a lot more calmly than yesterday.
Right now, she’s focused on her anger, and I hear her struggle to speak under the weight of that emotion.
At last, she manages to lash out, “You know, you don’t have to do everything for me. I can do things myself.”
I capture her hand in mine and bring it to my lips. “Yes, you can. You can be quiet.”
Those words make her seethe, I can tell, but she doesn’t speak again.
It’s hard not to give in to the desire to tease her, but I have to stay concentrated. I keep my eyes glued on the road, looking for any sign of a car following us. But I guess Logan was right. The coast really is clear.
“There’s an apple and a granola bar in the glove compartment,” I tell her.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbles, and I see she’s still fuming.
I hesitate to let it go, because her petulant anger really does amuse me.
At the same time, even though the danger seems to be behind me, it’s hard not to fixate on the threat now that I’m really going through the motions of driving away from it.
Despite Logan’s reassurance, I know Seraphina’s still in danger. And she’s also being a fucking mulehead, showing me with every word and action that she won’t allow herself to be bossed around.
Worry gives in to aggravation, tinged with fear at the renewed realization that I don’t control her. And right now, it’s not frustration but fear that causes me to lash out. Because how the fuck am I supposed to protect her if I never know what she’ll do next?
My eyes still focused on the road, I snap, “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. Eat your breakfast.”
She swallows hard and, after a minute’s hesitation, goes to retrieve the food. Again I have the nagging feeling she’s not actually submitting. Merely choosing her battles.
Still, I huff out a relieved breath as I see her nibbling on it in my peripheral vision. Good.
“Did you finish everything?”
She nods mutely.
“Show me the wrapper and the core.”
She takes the apple core from her lap and I nod approvingly. Then she fumbles in her pocket for the wrapper. I frown as I notice she’s only eaten half.
“Put your hand out.”
She stares at me, confused.