Chapter 2
Damian
Ihad trouble looking at myself in the mirror. As soon as Emilia stepped out of the bathroom, I went in so I could avoid her while she finished getting ready.
I felt guilty as fuck. Which made sense because I fucking was.
I'd come to Vegas because I knew Emilia would be here. I came here to seduce her. I did exactly what I'd planned to do high on anger.
How the fuck would I have known that she was a twenty-three year old virgin? I mean, in this day and age you have to have something wrong with you for that to happen.
I took her virginity. The sex should've been mediocre at best. But it wasn't. It was the very best sex of my life and it had been with an inexperienced woman, with Emilia Fucking Winters.
I had come harder than I ever had. It had taken everything out of me to not fuck her again and again and again. Two things stopped me effectively. The first, she'd bled, and she was probably sore as fuck. The other…I was in love with her sister. Right?
I suddenly resented that Bianca wasn't the last woman I fucked. But then again, I wasn't the last man Bianca fucked either, I thought bitterly.
It had been so damned good with Emilia. So unexpectedly amazing. She'd been responsive and exciting. I thought about all the ways in which I could teach her…and that's when I looked at her, right after I came. It was there in her eyes. Love, affection, devotion…all things I didn't deserve. I pulled out of her and got the hell out of there.
Fuck!
I didn't have a very good excuse. I had an explanation. I got scared. She'd been a virgin and I'd taken her. Not only that, but I also loved that I was her first and the thought that plagued me was that I wanted to be her last.
What was wrong with me? I was not an old-fashioned alpha male. I was a mature and worldly man.
But I couldn’t help how my dick was hard again, just thinking about how I'd claimed Emilia's untouched pussy. How her eyes had gone wide with each orgasm. She made me feel like a fucking king and that terrified the life out of me.
Damian Archer, the CEO of the most ruthless art auctioneer in the business was afraid of his very recently virginal wife. I had trouble believing it and I was living it.
Compared to Bianca, Emilia was…well, different.
She wasn't vivacious. She was small and thin, curve-less. But when I touched her, I could feel she worked out. Those feminine arms were strong. I felt their strength when she held me while I pounded into her.
God, her cunt almost strangled my dick. It felt so fucking good. She was so damned responsive. I barely touched her tits, and she was wet. I had no choice but to taste her. And that's when I knew I was in trouble. But there was no way I'd stop. I wanted her. It was like a fever inside me.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I didn't mind going down on women, but it wasn't a regular on my repertoire. But I couldn’t resist it with Em. My Emilia.
The last woman I'd made come with my mouth and hands was Bianca. A part of me felt I was cheating on her—and what a joke that was.
Bianca didn’t know that I knew about her affair with Matt Stanton. That was why there would be no reconciliation, ever. There was no world in which I'd forgive her for cheating on me.
Our relationship was tempestuous. We fought. Of course, we did. We were two passionate people with hot tempers. We argued. We fucked. And no matter how many times we broke up, we ended up back together. But not this time.
Anger had propelled me to go after the one woman I knew that Bianca disliked, the one that would hurt her the most to see me with. I had only thought of fucking Emilia. But then we were at that stupid chapel, and I thought this would be another way to show Bianca that I was off the fucking market.
I ran a hand through my hair, staring into my eyes in the mirror. I was married. What the fuck had I done? Fucking Em would have been one thing but marriage? And she'd given me an out when she started talking about an annulment—the fact that she mentioned it made me angry. What, she was too good for me? Is that what she thought?
But you don't want to be married to Plain Jane Invisible Emilia, Damian.
No, I didn't. She had just been a tool to hurt Bianca the way she'd hurt me. I hadn't thought about the consequences.
I had a meeting with Gideon right after reviewing the report from the private investigator I had hired. Recklessly, I asked Gideon, Bianca, and Emilia's father where his younger daughter was. He told me and I chased her down.
Finding her hadn't been difficult. I knew Vegas well. A few phone calls and I knew the exact hotel she was at; and a few more told me where she'd just run her credit card.
My phone buzzed and I grimaced. It was a message from Bianca: Baby, where are you? Don't do this, Damian. I miss you. I love you, damn you.
I loved her too. Loved her so fucking much. But she'd been sleeping with Stanton for four months when she'd been mine. The fact was that while she was texting me, proclaiming her love, she was still sleeping with him.
I understood why she was panicked. We usually broke up for a few days and got back together. This time we'd ended a month ago, and I hadn't picked up the phone once when she called. I hadn't texted her back. I had suspected an affair, which was why I'd stayed away and when my investigator confirmed it, well that had been the last nail on the proverbial coffin.
It would have been painful if she fucked Stanton after we broke up; but the fact that she'd been sleeping with him before, that was a deal breaker.
There was a knock on the bathroom door.
"Yes?"
"Damian, ah…it's Emilia."
I sighed. Who the fuck else would it be but her?
"Yeah?"
"I'm leaving."
I should go out. I should say something. I married her, took her goddamn virginity. She bled. I'd had the sheets changed because I couldn't stand seeing the aftermath of the crime I'd committed. I married a woman because I wanted to hurt her sister. Anger drove me to this—that and cold manipulation. I knew how Emilia felt about me. Bianca had mentioned it. Maeve, Bianca's mother made fun of Emilia about it. Even Gideon, usually quite somber, had once snapped at Emilia in front of everyone, telling her to stop making eyes at her sister's man.
My mother who usually wouldn't allow any woman to be disrespected hadn’t been amused though, she'd asked Gideon to stop making his daughter uncomfortable. My parents co-chaired the Archer Galleries board. They were the power center of our family business and Gideon knew not to fuck with them. He'd made it sound like he'd been joking but we all knew he wasn't.
Emilia had been mortified.
And, what did I do? Nothing, I'm ashamed to say. I did nothing. Just ignored the whole family drama as I did all others.
Maeve and Bianca were proficient Drama Queens. They worked together and were constantly at each other's throats even though they were as close as friends.
"Fine, Emilia. I'll see you tomorrow." I couldn't face her. I just couldn't do it. I needed a minute to get my bearings. What I'd done to this woman was horrible and I didn't have the courage to see her understanding smile. This morning, she smiled at me like I wasn't a monster. It made me angry and I took my self-loathing out on her. I had no business doing that. This wasn't Emilia's fault. It was mine…and maybe Bianca's.
No, not Bianca's. She did fuck all. This was all on me.
"Okay. Bye, Damian."
She sounded so young. So uncertain. It broke something inside me, and I had this crazy desire to walk out and give her a hug.
Who the hell did I think I was to use her like this?
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
First, I should never have come to Vegas. And even after I did, I should've walked away when I saw her at the Bellagio bar, but instead, I flirted with her. Then I took her to the casino and watched her lose money at the blackjack table.
Emilia's excitement was palpable as she sat down, her eyes wide with anticipation. It was her first time playing blackjack.
"I'll figure this out." She confidently grinned, placing her chips on the table. The dealer dealt the first hand, and Emilia received a seven and a nine.
"Hit me," she declared, and the dealer added a queen of hearts.
"Busted," she muttered, her smile faltering slightly but her determination unwavering.
The next hand was no better. This time, she was dealt a king of hearts and a five.
"Stay," she decided, hoping the dealer would bust. But luck was not on her side. The dealer flipped over a seventeen, just enough to win.
"Ugh, this is harder than it looks," Emilia groaned as her pile of chips dwindled.
Hand after hand, she continued to hit when she should have stayed and stayed when she should have hit.
Christ, this kid was a mess.
The cards seemed to mock her, with the queen and king of hearts appearing just often enough to remind her of the fortune she wasn’t winning. Despite her terrible luck, there was something endearing about her determination, and I found myself more captivated by her.
And that's when I got stupid. I asked her to go for a walk with me as a ploy to get her away from the blackjack table and ended up at the Silver Bells Wedding Chapel where we said I do in front of Elvis.
I compounded that error by fucking her three ways to Sunday and even now as I looked at myself with regret, the truth was that I wanted to be inside her again.