Chapter 18
Damon
I’m not sure how much I’ve had to drink, but by the time I stand, I’m well aware of the effect of the alcohol. I’m not wasted, but I’m definitely tipsy. I make my way to the patio overlooking the garden.
The garden is my favorite and least favorite place rolled into one. It protected me from my father when he went on his beating sprees, but it also reminds me of my entire fucked up childhood.
“Why didn’t you burn the thing down to the fucking ground?” I ask, meeting Xander, watching as he takes a puff from his cigar. The sweet aroma tingles my nostrils.
“It’s far too beautiful to burn to the ground. Plus, you’d miss it as much as me. Even if it is a stark reminder of our father, it’s also a reminder that we had each other.”
I notice a change in his attitude. He’s calmer, happier, and I don’t fucking like it. He’s much too happy—which only means one thing: there’s something going on I don’t know about.
“We did have each other. When you killed dad, you changed. You took over this fucking place, and you turned it into a darker man than our father.” Venom coats my words.
I want him to feel all the pain I have the last couple years.
But I know he won’t feel shit, not without having a heart.
He has no weaknesses, no fucking vices—not like me.
“You’re right, I did turn into something worse than our father. I did it because I had to. I did it for you.”
That’s it, I’ve heard enough of his nonsense today. I turn to make my way back to the house. “Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not going to play with you. My life was fucking perfect before you walked back into it.”
I’m so pissed off, angry he dragged me here to play his sick, twisted game. It feels like we’re kids all over again, except now he’s holding the fact that he protected me from our father over my head.
“I’m going to bed,” I mutter, walking through the kitchen, and my brother follows.
“Oh, yes…” He inhales smoke into his lungs, then exhales a moment later.
“That’s right, you have something waiting for you upstairs.
” He smirks, and my blood runs cold. “I might have left dinner a little early to help her find her way to your room, and I made sure she remembered to kneel for her king.” I don’t even let him finish his fucking statement.
I’m so angry, so mad—at myself, at Keira, at the fucking world we live in.
I stomp up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.
All I need is to see her and touch her, but as I run down the hallway leading to my old bedroom, I’m overtaken by emotions.
She’s going to be my wife.
I’ve sacrificed everything for her, and this is how she repays me—by letting my brother show her around his mansion. I might be unreasonable, but fuck, I can’t think straight right now. I’m fueled with enough madness, once I reach the door, I almost kick it in.
The lights turn on as I walk into the bedroom. I take in a sharp breath, relief flooding my veins. Keira is lying on the bed. Her hair resembles a halo, the russet-brown circling her head. She's still wearing her dress, and her tiny hands are cupped beneath her cheek.
A small wave of calmness washes over me knowing she is safe—but only from the monsters downstairs. She’s not safe from me. Never me.
Walking up to the bed, I take in her perfect little body, peacefully sleeping in a room that holds so many horrible memories for me. I clench and unclench my fists a few times, trying to ward off some of the fury inside me.
With a gentleness I'm not aware I even possess, I slowly unzip her dress and shimmy it off her shoulders. She stirs, but doesn’t wake up—not even when I pull the dress all the way off her body.
My mouth waters. Underneath the beautiful dress, she is wearing black lace lingerie.
It makes her creamy white skin more prominent.
My dick is on high alert. I was hard earlier, but now I'm hard enough to break fucking steel.
I thought seeing or touching her would calm the anger in my veins, but now that I’m here, I feel just as unhinged. I need to have her. I need to make sure she knows she’ll belong to me until the end of days.
I rip off my expensive suit, throwing it to the floor, then pull her panties down. And just when I start to climb on top of her, spreading her thighs with my knee, she wakes up.
“Damon?” Her voice is thick with sleep, but when the tip of my rock-hard cock nudges her entrance, she is suddenly wide awake.
“I’m going to fuck you, Keira. I’m going to fuck you really hard. It might hurt, but I need you right now.”
All sleep vanishes from her big brown eyes, leaving nothing but panic in its wake.
Part of me expects her to push me away and beg me not to do it, but she doesn’t make a move to stop me—and I can’t wait any longer for her to give me an answer.
With one hard thrust, I bury myself inside her, all the way to the hilt.
Fuck…she feels like heaven.
She cries out in pain, but I can’t stop. I’m too far gone. Consumed with need for her, my mind is clouded, and my body simply works on its own. I pull out of her tight channel, then thrust back with equal force, making her cry louder.
As she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, I peer down at her, watching her eyes squeeze shut.
I catch a tear rolling down the side of her face with a kiss while I keep thrusting into her.
Her salty tears coat my lips, and I drag them along her jawline before finding the sensitive spot on her neck.
She smells like strawberries and me—and I want to savor and devour her all at once.
I kiss her neck, moving down to her shoulder while pounding her.
She cries out with each hard thrust. I worry I might be hurting her, but her cries slowly turn into a low whimper with every stroke.
Her small hands rest on my shoulders, and her fingernails dig into my flesh, scratching my skin. The sensations consume me, but I barely feel any of it. All I feel is her hot, tight pussy strangling my dick.
Mine.
She is all mine, and soon, everybody will fucking know it—when she bears my name, when her belly’s ripe with my children.
The thoughts urge me forward, and I keep pounding until her cries of pain turn to cries of pleasure. I can feel her pussy gripping my cock, pulsing around me, but it’s still not enough.
I can’t get enough of her. I need more.
I need her deeper, harder, faster.
I pull out and get on my knees, pulling her with me. I flip her over and prop her on all fours.
Not wasting any time, I enter her again. I grip her hips and pull her toward me every time I thrust, burying myself as deep as I can. I know she’s saying my name, but I can’t tell if she’s begging for more or begging me to stop. I hope it’s not the latter, because I couldn't stop if I wanted to.
Sweat runs down my skin, coating ever part of my body. All my muscles ache, but I still can’t stop. I can’t stop fucking her.
After pulling her body upright until her back meets my chest, I reach my arms around and take her perfectly-shaped tits into my hands—each filling my palms just right. I take her nipples between my fingers and squeeze harshly.
Her head falls back onto my shoulder, and a loud moan escapes her lips.
Releasing one of her tits so I can touch her elsewhere, my fingers travel between us where our bodies connect until they reach her swollen, wet nub. I groan upon contact of her slippery bundle of nerves. Even if it hurts at first, I know she wants this.
She fucking wants me—even being the monster I am.
Using two fingers, I rub her clit faster and harder while maintaining the same rhythm.
“You like this?” I’m so out of breath, I barely get the words out. “You like getting fucked hard? You like me owning your pussy? Owning your entire fucking body?”
As I reach the end of my sentence, I feel her come apart. Her swollen pussy squeezes my dick impossibly tight, sending me off into my own orgasm. My balls draw together as the tingles in my spine spread through my body.
The biggest load of my life shoots from my cock into her tight little hole, filling her with my warm seed.
Keira goes completely limp in my arms. Her breathing is labored, and her head bobs to the side.
I want to keep us like this forever, but I can’t.
I won’t be able to hold myself up much longer, let alone her.
I lay her down, placing her head on the pillow, then take the space beside her, pulling her into my arms as soon as I hit the mattress.
I close my eyes and listen to her breathe, wondering if she is already asleep. I’m almost certain she might be until she starts talking.
“Damon, what happened after I left dinner? Are we safe? Are you okay?” Her voice is hoarse, and I’m sure if I could see her face it would be filled to the brim with every known emotion.
“Yes, we are safe. My brother is not going to try to hurt you anymore. I made a deal with him.” Her whole body goes stiff in my arms.
“A deal?” she whispers, as if it’s a secret.
I know I’m being an asshole, and I’ll most likely regret it tomorrow, but I just want her close right now.
After all we’ve been through, I want her close.
But more than anything, I want her to shut up and go to sleep because the voices inside my head, the demons, won’t go away until I close my eyes and inhale her sweet scent.
“He wants me to work for him, and I agreed to do it.” I hope the conversation ends here. But, of course, it doesn’t.
“That’s it? He just wants you to work for him? That’s why he nearly choked the life out of me? So you would work for him?”
She doesn't understand the repercussions of saying no to my brother, or that her life would be on the line if I disagreed, so I’m not surprised by her lack of understanding.