Chapter 23
Large, strong hands brace against either side of the doorframe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man more desperate, more at war with his nature.
“Tell me to leave.”
The raspy command falls from Damien’s lips, and I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s right. I should tell him to leave, but I’m silent instead, frozen in place.
“You know who I am. You’ve seen what I’ve done—what I continue to do. I’m a fucking monster, Layla.”
The callousness in his tone isn’t lost on me. There’s no hint of remorse, no suggestion of there being an apology to follow. Just cold, hard facts.
“I’ve wanted you. For longer than you know,” he admits. “And while I know I’ve all but begged you to have me, the truth is… I’m afraid of what I’ll do to you.”
His eyes stay trained on me, and I’m unnerved when he doesn’t blink, sending my heart into a full sprint. He stares like I’m some small, fragile thing he’ll ruin, but I step closer, holding his gaze.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
My words seem to hit hard, and his focus deepens again.
“That’s the thing, angel… You should be.”
I swear I feel his warning far more clearly than I hear it.
My stomach twists, knowing he’s right, yet again. Still, this truth does nothing to deter me from taking another step in his direction, not stopping until my toes nudge the tips of his shoes, and I’m breathing his air.
“I’m not… afraid of you.”
His gaze lowers from my eyes to my lips, and I’m not sure he’s breathing at all now. My breasts graze his chest every time my own lungs fill with air. I’m not backing down. Not even as I sense his silent plea for me to do just that.
He slowly lowers one hand from the doorframe and slips it beneath my hair, squeezing the back of my neck like he’d done before his first attempt to leave. His lips part, but words fail him. It isn’t until the second try that sound leaves his mouth.
“I’m obsessed with you,” he confesses. “Not that cutesy, romanticized bullshit in movies or on TV. I’m trying to tell you—no, warn you—I’d burn the entire fucking world down for you.” He pauses and tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear. “Can you even comprehend that level of commitment?”
I’m panting, hearing him all but admit that I’ve got the beast within him wrapped around my finger. A beast who’s torn the flesh from people’s bodies, carved into them like wooden figurines. And yet… his touch is so gentle with me.
I lean closer, opening my mouth mere inches from his, swiping the tip of my tongue over the soft, plump flesh of his lips. His chest swells as his grip moves to my hair, tightening, drawing words from my mouth I hope I don’t live to regret.
“Don’t tell me you’re obsessed… fucking show me.”
My challenge lingers in the air, and his eyes darken.
“Once I’ve had you, Layla… I’m keepingyou.”
This feels like another warning, another red flag that should have me shoving him out of my apartment while I still have the chance.
“Do you understand what that means?”
His grip tightens on my hair with the question, and my scalp burns from the pull as he leans in, the heat of his breath warming my mouth.
“Your friends. Your family. They’d all be in constant danger. Not a single person you’ve ever loved or cared about would be safe from me. Because if I even think someone’s trying to come between us… I’d tear through them without a single fucking thought.”
I swallow deeply, and his eyes lower to my throat with the movement.
“Is that honestly what you want?” he taunts. “A monster in your life? One who’d move heaven and hell for you, no matter the cost?”
The sternness in his eyes says he wants me to fully grasp the seriousness of his threat. But I don’t need time to think it over. I’m nodding before he even finishes, dragging my hand up the solid mass of his thigh to his swollen cock.
“Show… me.”
I grip his cock harder, hard enough that a normal man would’ve pushed me away. But not him. He doesn’t even flinch.
I’ve heard every single word that’s left his mouth, but his warnings haven’t scared me away. I’m aware that this is quite possibly a testament of just how deeply his web has woven into my soul, but it’s true. I understood what this was, knew how it would end before it even truly began.
So, as irrational as it may seem to admit this… I want all of that shit.
The danger. The crazy. The darkness. Even if I do manage to lie to myself, denying this truth by sunrise.
A smirk curves Damien’s lips half a second before they’re on mine. His soft, silken tongue pushes into my mouth, and I suck it, tilting my had to draw it in as I forget how to breathe.
My movements aren’t my own as he pushes me inside, locking the door without breaking the flow. The sound of our heavy breathing fills the air when I step away to pull the single strap of my dress off my shoulder. I make quick work of shimmying out of the clingy fabric, letting it slip down to the floor.
Watching Damien ease both arms from his suit jacket with a subtle hint of swagger, saliva gathers in my mouth. I lower to the bed, still gawking as he removes his cufflinks, and then places them on the nightstand beside my meds. Staring at his fingers as he unbuttons his shirt, I’m reminded of how he played between my legs at the club, making me come despite being so filled with rage that night.
His shirt falls to the floor beside my dress, and I strain my eyes to see him through the shadows as traces of moonlight seep through my blinds. I’ve finally gotten the full view of his tattoo, but I’m distracted from the details of the dark predator inked on the side of his neck when I spot something else. Something on his chest that I have to squint to see.
Wild thoughts of sucking and fucking him start to slip. Instead, those thoughts are replaced with questions as I sit straighter, reaching toward the scarred skin over his heart. My fingertips trace the puffy, pink ridges of a wound I’d guess to be years old, but that doesn’t make sense.
Because the word carved into his flesh is… my name.
Silence fills the room, and Damien’s expressionless. After several seconds, I peer up to meet his gaze. The fear he tried to induce a moment ago has crept in now, causing my limbs to seize.
“It… I…”
He grips my wrist, flattening my hand over the carving. It’s as though he wants me to feel the echo of pain he inflicted on himself, wants me aware of the fact that he once bled for me.
“…Why? W—when?” I stammer, believing the latter might be the more important question.
“Does it matter?”
His tone is low and even, but my eyes stretch wide.
“Does it—? Yes!” I scoff. “You’ve only known I exist for what… the last couple months maybe? So, yes. I’d say it matters. This scar, it looks… it looks like it’s been there for years.”
I expect a rebuttal, some sort of defense or deflection. But instead, he holds my gaze, and I sense nothing but curiosity in his eyes.
“And if that’s true, if this scar has been with me for years… does that scare you?”
I swallow deeply and feel the incredulous expression that’s just taken over my face. His heart’s racing beneath my palm as I stare at his naked torso, then his question echoes inside my head.
Does that scare you?
I glance up again, meeting his stare, knowing his eyes have been the last sight so many have beheld as life slipped from their grasp. Then, I’m more aware of both his hands locked around my wrist, knowing they’ve been coated in the blood of the innocent.
Does that scare you?
My breathing is erratic as I shake my head, answering his question. “It should, but… no.”
One corner of his mouth hitches with a smile, and my fingers sink into his chest, squeezing the solid muscle where he’s marked himself for me. At the thought of a blade slicing through his skin, leaving a crimson outline of my name that will forever remain with him, wetness gathers between my legs.
“Good,” he breathes. “Then, when you’re ready, when you’re really ready… I’ll tell you everything.”
With that, his hold on my wrist loosens, and he takes a step back to undo his belt. The mystery of him is overwhelming, making me want to speak up, making me want to tell him I’m ready for answers now, but that’s a lie. Every part of me would rather not dwell on the bad. I’d rather be present, only focused on what’s right in front of me.
The sound of his zipper lowering arrests my thoughts, and I’m back in the moment, reaching toward him when the need to touch him persists. My hand is met with warmth when I slip it inside his pants, but I’m instantly annoyed by the lack of skin-on-skin contact. So, I switch my plan, reaching inside his boxers instead. This time, solid flesh fills my hand, and I’m satisfied, stroking his hot cock until I’ve bitten down on my lip so hard it aches.
“Lie down,” he rasps, and I move quickly. He spoke, and my body simply obeyed.
I soak in the sight of him as he climbs on top of me. The hard lines of his physique are smooth to the touch, inciting tiny fireworks against my fingertips as I explore the landscape of his body.
He straddles my waist, and for a brief moment, fear flashes through me again. It’s as if I can imagine there being a blade in his hand, slicing through the delicate skin between my exposed breasts. But then, the morbid imagery is gone, and as Damien repositions himself, covering me with his weight, he slowly grinds between my legs. Now, all I know is pleasure.
“Do you have any clue how many times I’ve thought of you? Just like this?” he asks. “Pinned beneath me… helpless… mine.”
My heart skips a beat at that word. Helpless. I try to swallow my nerves as his mouth finds mine again, and this time, even when he leans away, a small trace of terror lingers with me. As our gazes lock, and I take in that glint in his eyes, I’m guessing he likes it that way. Likes knowing I don’t one-hundred percent trust that this won’t end badly.
“Give me your cock. Now,” I force out, wanting to win back some of the control he’s stolen from me. But when his initial response is a smile, there’s no question who’s still got the upper hand.
“I’ll give you that,” he promises. “Along with any and everything else you want, but you’ll have to be patient tonight, because I’m going to savor… Every. Fucking. Moment.”
He kisses me again before I have a chance to think or respond. But even as needy and horny as our weeks of unspent sexual tension have made me, the anticipation is exciting.
The room spins when I’m flipped, and the tumbling doesn’t stop until our positions have switched. With me now on top, he grips the back of my neck with one rough motion, forcing my mouth to crash down on his.
“I need to taste you,” he says, the breathy words flowing down my throat before he takes my tongue again.
Where I’m straddling his waist, with my pussy spread open across the front of his boxers, I feel his cock pulse beneath me. It makes his choice of words seem more than honest.
Tasting me isn’t a want.
It’s a need.
He grabs me by the waist, dragging me up his torso, nearly drawing out a moan as his underwear brushes against my clit. He stops when my bare ass meets his chest, and the heat of his scarred pecs radiates through me. My breathing is short and ragged as I watch him, staring as he cranes his neck, unashamedly inhaling the scent of my pussy like a monster hunting its prey.
I feel his heart race even faster now, and I’m almost certain mine’s beating just as hard.
“Grab the fucking headboard,” he growls.
I do as I’m told, but I’m barely given time to steady myself before he lifts me by the waist, settling my pussy against his mouth. The tip of his tongue teases my slit, barely inside me as my clit pulses with need. I’m almost certain his teasing is intentional, meant to make me insane with lust.
Another of those ravenous groans vibrates in his chest, and my nipples pebble in the cool air. A shudder rips through me as my body protests, desperate for more contact.
It seems impossible. How can someone responsible for inflicting unimaginable pain also possess the power to provide endless pleasure?
As if in response to my question, Damien flattens his tongue, gently swiping it up my pussy to collect the juices seeping from my core. A quivering breath rattles in my chest as he sucks the sensitive, swollen lips between my thighs one at a time, letting his wild breaths cascade over my clit, but never touching it.
Damn him for making me wait.
Damn him for making me want this so bad.
“Do you have any fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you? Just… like… this,” he adds, his quiet words warming my inner thighs, making me want him even more.
He peers up, and a breath catches in my throat. The feral look in his eyes leaves me frozen in fear as I grip the ridge of the headboard tighter, feeling his arms loop around my thighs from underneath, locking me in place.
I rock my hips just a little, tempted to grind against his mouth for an ounce of relief as his arms tighten.
“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, and a moment later, his tongue thrusts into me, stroking my inner walls as I lose my breath.
A needy whimper falls from my lips, and I imagine this is his fantasy fulfilled—me naked, my pussy covering his mouth. The idea of being just that, his fantasy, has my head swimming.
How badly does he want me to come for him?
Does he jerk himself off thinking about me?
How many girls’ mouths has he filled, imagining it’s my lips wrapped around his cock?
A groan rumbles in his chest when I lower one hand to his hair, gently pulling his head forward. My boldness is rewarded when he draws my clit into his mouth, sucking softly as I whimper.
“Fuck.”
That lone word exits my mouth with a sigh as my heart picks up speed. Electricity ripples across my skin, rousing goosebumps all over my body. My nipples are so stiff they burn with need, begging to be touched. So, while Damien devours me, I run a hand up my torso to squeeze my breast, pinching my own nipple between my fingers.
Using my grip on his hair to control him, I push his head back down to the pillow. I’m mesmerized, staring at his mouth, glistening with my arousal. He could easily pull free from my grasp and finish devouring me, but he’s patient, letting me control our pace.
In every other circumstance, he’s a strikingly formidable man, able to manipulate anyone in the room to fall under his spell. Which is why I take his temporary submission for what it is.
A gift.
His eyes are wild with impatience, but he stares up at me, awaiting another of my silent commands. Again, using the soft strands between my fingers, I bring his mouth to me, igniting a wildfire in the pit of my stomach.
“Right there. Fuck.”
The wildfire intensifies, scorching new areas of my body with pleasure as it spreads, quickly growing out of control. His hold on me tightens again as I try to pull away when the sensation gets to be too much, but I’m stuck, forced to experience bliss at full power.
“Damien… wait. Please… I need…”
My fragmented plea is ignored as he sucks harder, making my clit pulse between his lips, and the pleasure-ridden assault seems unending. I quickly realize I’m not equipped to handle this—this level of euphoria detonating within me all at once, building just beneath the surface like a geyser that’s ready to blow.
“Damien, I…”
I lose all sense of thought when his hand leaves my thigh, moving to my pussy instead. His fingers tease at my entrance first, inciting a moan that rumbles in his throat before he pushes two inside me, deep, sinking into my wetness. He pauses as I saturate his fingers, and then draws them out slowly, only to shove them in harder and faster than I’m anticipating, curling them in just the right way to stimulate my G-spot.
“Oh, my fucking… I can’t… I…”
Words fail me again as my mouth hangs open. His fast, rhythmic probing takes me to the edge of the cliff, and as I question whether I’ll survive the fall, he violently catapults me over the edge.
The headboard rattles when my entire body begins to quake. The pressure that’s been building in my core finally releases. It breaks like a dam, triggering a flood of warm fluid that surges from my pussy. The insides of my thighs are soaked as more of the liquid warmth flows out of me, down onto Damien’s neck and chest, onto my bed. My inner walls clench around his fingers, and the scent of my arousal fills the air. He keeps my clit between his lips and finger-fucks me until the involuntary spasms in my core shudder to a stop. And once they finally do, I’m completely out of my head, confused by what the hell kind of reaction that was.
My breathing slows, and I’m wracked with embarrassment, assessing the damage. He’s drenched in my arousal, and I didn’t even know to warn him that could happen, because that’s never happened.
There’s an apology on the tip of my tongue, but I’m cut off from speaking when a pleasure-filled groan rumbles in his chest. Then, I stare down my body in disbelief, watching as he cranes his neck toward my inner thigh, licking and sucking the juices that squirted from my pussy, savoring it like it’s a delicacy.
“You’re my fucking goddess,” he pants, and then drags his hot, slippery tongue over the tendon near my groin. He nips me there. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough that I flinch when the sensation sends a shockwave of electricity ricocheting through the pit of my stomach.
“May I have you now?” he rasps, and the fire is back. For now, it’s only a smolder, but I know it’s soon to return to a full roar.
Damien peers up at me, his eyes momentarily pausing to stare at my breasts.
I swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of what having me will look like, but I’m too deeply entangled to turn back. So, with a quivering breath, and ignoring the faint alarm inside my head, warning me to tap out… I nod.
“Yes.”
Through the near-total darkness, I see the wicked smirk that curves one side of his mouth. Spent and lacking any sort of energy, my body slips off of him, landing on the mattress as he rises to his knees.
“Come here,” he beckons from the middle of my bed, and I do as I’m told, crawling closer.
He doesn’t speak his next instructions, positioning my body in silence. He faces me away from him, and the palms of my hands settle on the wetness that’s soaked into my sheet when he puts me on all fours. With my ass angled toward him, the heat of his hand slides up my back, to my head.
“Relax,” he rasps, pushing gently until my cheek is pressed flat to the wet pillow, and with every breath, I draw in my own scent from the fabric.
Behind me, I hear the frantic clang of his buckle, and I glance back, watching as he lowers his pants just enough to free his cock. He pulls his belt out of the loops next, but I’m barely focused on how he winds and twists the leather strap, maneuvering it in strange ways. I’m more interested in the long, thick pipe sheathed in flesh between his legs, pointing skyward as he watches me.
“Your hands.”
I blink, finally dragging my eyes up from his dick, remembering he has a face.
“I… What?”
A slow smile moves across his mouth as he squeezes my ass cheeks. “Give me… your… hands.”
My mouth suddenly feels dry. I haven’t blinked since he finished speaking, because I have an idea what he intends to do. The thought of which has my stomach twisting in knots.
My lack of an answer has Damien sighing with impatience, and the next second, the choice to comply is taken away. He gathers my wrists with his large hands, using force to pin them at the small of my back. Pain shoots through my shoulders as the side of my face pushes deeper into the pillow, dampening strands of my hair. I don’t struggle against him, but I’m tempted, strongly considering whether I’d stand a chance if I put up a fight.
His belt slips around my wrists, and whatever chance I might’ve had to get away is gone now. I flinch when he pulls the belt tight, looping the excess leather between my hands before tugging to make sure the knot is secure.
His hot tip nudges my ass when he rises to his shins behind me, holding the leather in his palms as he whispers a question.
“Do you trust me?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at his words, their dark, sinister undertones.
A breath stalls in my chest, and I answer honestly, because I know that’s what he wants.
“No,” I force out, and I’m not surprised by the quiet rumble of laughter in his chest.
He strokes my ass again, letting his thumb slip gently between my cheeks with the motion. “Good. Because you fucking shouldn’t.”
He thrusts into me without warning, stretching my pussy with his hot length, filling me to the hilt as I cry out. With one hand squeezing my hip, and the other holding the belt, he shoves himself inside me again. Over and over. Until another not-so-quiet whimper billows from my mouth.
I want to touch him, want to reach back and feel my name carved into his flesh as he powers into me. Envisioning the scar, my pussy gets wetter, drawing a sigh of pleasure from Damien’s lips as I gush around his cock.
“I’m not stopping until you come for me again,” he pants, the words sounding more like a warning than a promise. “When I leave you tonight, I’m all you’ll fucking crave.”
The feel of his large tip plunging into me has my eyes rolling back as every nerve in my pussy springs to life yet again, vibrating with electricity as another orgasm begins to stir in my core.
“Do you hear me?” he rasps, pounding harder as the mounting pressure causes my eyes to burn, blurring with tears.
I nod against the pillow, feeling its dampness on my cheek. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” The question rips from his throat as he tugs the belt, and I rear back with a wince, opening more for him.
“Yes, I hear you.”
He pulls out, then slams into me again, and a scream tears out of my mouth. The stinging between my legs is nearly unbearable, causing a strange mix of emotions as I claw my way toward another orgasm.
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
That sinister growl to his voice seems darker now, and I find myself digging deeper for the right answer, wanting to spare my pussy another punishing blow. I think back to our first conversation, back to the term I addressed him with, before I could pair a name with the stranger on the other end of the line.
“Yes… Sir.” My voice is strained, filled with desperation and angst, like it’s been years since I’ve come. Not minutes.
He lets out a quiet, husky laugh, and his cock slips into me again. Less punishing this time, but a gentle tug on the belt reminds me what he’s capable of.
A second explosion of ecstasy taunts me as I teeter near the edge. In some strange way, I’m grateful for the discomfort that’s drawing this out, making it last longer.
“Tell me what you want, Layla,” he says, stroking my ass with a subtle tenderness that contrasts everything else about him. “Would you like to come now? Or… do you need to be fucked a while longer?”
I struggle to find words.
“What will it be?” The sternness returns to his tone, and his pelvis claps against my ass when he goes in rough again.
“Now,” I breathe. “I want it now.”
He powers in deep again, and more tears sting my eyes.
“I want it now, Sir,” I say, correcting my mistake before he has the chance to punish me again.
“That’s my angel,” he croons, tightening his hold on the belt, drawing my arms back even further. “Now, be a good girl and squeeze your pussy around me. Grip me as tight as you can.”
I do as he says, clenching him hard, and the sensation of feeling every detail of his cock is unreal—every vein pulsing beneath his skin, the cusp of his head. He stokes the flame of the orgasm now raging in my core, and I whimper his name.
I’m forced to reconcile with the thought of such intense pain somehow coexisting with pleasure when he pulls the belt tighter.
“Your pussy is my fucking altar.” Those words go straight to my head as he slowly feeds his dick into me, drawing out the mind-bending explosion between my legs. “I will never worship another.”
His vow sears beneath my skin, burning deep as it binds us. I’m still squeezed tight around him when heat bursts from his cock, filling me with a hot surge of liquid. We’re so tightly connected that I feel him throbbing, pulsing more cum into me, and I grip him tighter, taking everything.
I consider again that this is his fantasy, and to say that I’ve enjoyed playing my role would be an understatement. I want to be this for him again. Whenever he needs it.
Whenever he needs me.
He doesn’t pull out right away, but he does release my wrists from the belt, letting my weak, sore arms fall limp to the mattress. It isn’t lost on me that he has yet to ask if he’s hurt me, and while he certainly has, I crave more.
Much more.
Just like he promised I would.