Chapter 44 #3
“ Mmmhmm .” She sleepily complies, and I reposition her to my side, holding her upright as we proceed toward the hallway.
She’s barely able to lift an arm when she points to the living room as we pass. “The couch is fine…”
“ Your bedroom is better.”
By the time we reach the bedroom, she’s leaning heavily against me, her face pressed sleepily into the base of my neck.
“ Damien…” she says my name questioningly, but it’s on a sultry, breathy whisper.
“You’ve got a cruel way of breathing my name,” I growl, maneuvering her closer to the bed and allowing her body to slip away from me, limply falling upon the cobalt comforter.
I hastily strip off my shirt, catching sight of an apothecary-style bottle upon the dresser.
His cologne…
Inside, the Demon chuckles with a nasty sneer that I can feel slicing across my own features.
I toss my shirt on the floor and snatch the bottle to spritz the air before me.
Stepping closer to her through the mist of his signature scent, I feel the particles of moisture and deceit dance upon my heated skin.
There are consequences to playing with a Demon’s fire, little witch!
You don’t get to toy with my emotions, my desire for you like a common whore, and then simply strut away, unbothered by my need for you!
Not without repercussion! Not after clawing open this crack in my once impenetrable armor with your wicked witchcraft!
You have seeped into my Vantablack soul…
Turned me into this pathetic, yearning simp for you!
It is only fair that I should make my way deep inside of you, as well… Make you ache with consequence...
Rage and lust lace the heated blood pumping through my veins as I stare down upon her unsuspecting form.
“Dean?” she groggily whispers. Another drowsy sigh escapes her luscious lips as the drug pulls her deeper into a dark oblivion.
‘Do you really think it will be me?’ She demanded of me once, the night I stole a kiss in the wine cellar. ‘You will never have me present or willingly!’
Oh, sweet one, I learned early on that sometimes we must settle for what we can get … I have also grown quite accustomed to simply taking that which I desire in this life.
I place the bottle on the dresser and move closer to the object of my burning obsession.
She’s barely conscious. I pluck at the ties of her sweatpants, undoing the knot before gripping the waistband on either side of her hips.
She doesn’t even stir as I roughly tug them down her legs.
Her top, slightly pushed up past her naval, grants me a full, glorious view of her nearly naked lower body.
My hungry gaze settles on the black lace, scantly shielding her pussy.
The sweatpants slip from my grasp where I stand.
She’s breathtaking.
A slumbering angel. Vulnerable and blissfully unaware of the lust-crazed Demon standing before her.
This may be the only chance I get… I have no intention of physically hurting her… She won’t even remember this encounter. Only I will possess the memories of our night together.
Something to think back on…hold onto.
Screw it… Let’s do it…
I kneel forward onto the bed, moving over her sleeping form. As if her subconscious senses a presence, her face twists forward. Her lips part and whisper his name once again…
I lower myself upon her, allowing the scent of his cologne to envelope her, lulling her into that feeling of safety and security she derives from his presence.
“ Dean…”
That fucking name… Sure, Angel… There isn’t anything I wouldn’t be for you... I’ll be your Dean…
I press my lips to hers, cautiously at first, watching her expression. Her eyes remain closed, dark lashes resting against porcelain skin, as she breathes in his scent. Her lips press forward, softly molding to mine in a returning kiss, and I am instantly, painfully throbbing for her.
Pushing my tongue inside the warm, sweet cavern of her mouth, I deepen this stolen kiss. She tastes of cream and sugar and pure, forbidden bliss.
A slight moan vibrates up her throat…and it is maddening.
On some level, she wants this. She wants me .
The way she’s looked at me since the first night we met.
The way she allowed me to dance with her tonight.
Our bodies moving closely together…touching, rubbing, bumping, and nearly grinding together…
She’s been putting out all the signals. This can’t be wrong if it feels so fucking right!
I kiss her fully, sliding my tongue against hers, sucking, biting, licking her lips.
My hands slide greedily up her body, shoving her top up over her breasts.
Full, heavy, yet so soft . I grab them over her bra, and my cock pulses harder.
I can’t help but thrust my hips and grind myself against the warm apex of her thighs.
Her decadent heat penetrates the denim prison of my rigid cock, and I grow feverishly more desperate for her.
Fuck! This is too much…
Breaking away from her lips, I trail kisses down her body until I’m on my knees, wedged between her sumptuous, thick thighs.
I press my face against her soft stomach, kissing her flesh as my fingers slip inside the elastic waistband of her panties.
My lips skim across her cesarean scar, and I kiss her lower still.
She doesn’t even see you as a man… Keegan’s words play over again in my mind, and I can’t help the wicked sneer as I drag my tongue over her warm skin.
What will she think when I’m the one to give her everything she wants?
How will you feel when the next kid she delivers looks up at you with pale eyes instead of dark?
At least some part of me will know her love…
‘ Get on with it! She won’t even remember tonight! Take what you want and slink back to the shadows where you belong!’ The darkness within demands, its claws still in a stranglehold around my conscience. Tear her down from her pedestal and fuck her in the ruins… She won’t remember…
She won’t remember…
But I will…
Will I be able to keep this secret in the aftermath of this sinful act? Will I ever again be capable of meeting her soul-penetrating gaze?
A deep shame scorches me from the inside out.
No… No, I will not.
I remove my hands from her, though I take a final moment longer to cherish the feel of her warm thighs pressed against the sides of my body.
With a strangled groan, I force myself away from her.
Grabbing the edge of the comforter, I fling the blanket over her body as all-consuming, all-too-familiar feelings wash over me.
Self-loathing… Unworthiness…
Snatching my shirt off the floor, I quickly exit the room, slipping it back on as I storm down the hall to stage the kitchen in a desperate attempt to disguise what I can of my transgressions…or at the very least, stall my impending execution.
She’s going to hate me… She should hate me… What the fuck have I done?