ii.
Damian gently placed me on the edge of the bed that was arranged directly in the center of the bedroom.
My eyes began darting around the room, taking in as much as possible.
The long poles on each corner of the bed were draped in burgundy tapestry.
The curtains were pitch black, with only the faintest trace of outdoor light slipping through the folds.
The low golden light made Damian’s skin glow against the darkness of the room.
The duvet was black silk.
I reached down and ran my hand across it, and it was the smoothest texture I’d ever felt before.
His hand guided my attention back to him until our eyes met again.
His rough hand rested on my cheek, holding my attention to him.
My breath began to shake.
His strength should have intimidated me.
Instead, it steadied my breathing.
He gave me a gentle smile and began slowly moving about the room.
Spending a moment opening dresser drawers, quietly moving items from place to place.
There was a large wardrobe directly in front of me.
The wood was dark, almost mysterious.
Intricate details carved into the surface.
The arches were carved in a style that reminded me of ancient cathedrals.
Handles made of forged black iron.
Damian made his way to the wardrobe where the doors creaked open.
He removed his suit jacket and placed it inside.
The wardrobe towered over him.
It drew my eyes upward to see the painting directly above it.
It was an aged oil painting.
The light was hardly bright enough to make it out.
It was a man and a woman.
The man was large and in a shadowed area.
His presence felt cold.
A dark robe trimmed in gold layered his body.
Opposite him was a beautiful woman.
An emerald, green dress flowing in the wind, and soaked in sunlight.
The two were situated far apart but it felt like they were being pulled together somehow.
My eyes drew back to Damian as I noticed he had taken off his white button up shirt.
His back perfectly trimmed.
The glow of the light showed his efficient movement.
Every move was intentional.
Nothing was wasted.
His suit pants resting comfortably on his waist with his glossy black belt accentuating his waistline.
He began to turn to me.
In a panic for fear of being caught staring, my eyes darted back to the painting.
“Hades and Persephone” he said quietly as he emerged into my line of vision.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The painting— it’s Hades and Persephone.
One day Persephone was picking flowers and the earth split right in front of her.
Through the crack emerged Hades. Mesmerized by her beauty he brought her with him to the underworld to become his queen,” he said it so confidently as if he was there the day it happened.
The golden light wrapped around him as he towered over me, and I tried my best to steady my breathing.
His hands slid down my arms, my eyes followed every move.
Warm lips brushed the top of my head as his touch wandered across my skin.
I rested against his chest, the steady strength of him pulling the tension from my body little by little until I felt almost weightless.
My body was gently laid onto its back.
The ceiling and walls filled my view through the deep burgundy tapestry.
The walls a deep charcoal.
Almost black.
The ceiling was even darker.
In the very center, a black metal chandelier.
Intricate metal work wrapped around a solid black ring.
Six dimly lit golden lights twinkling, casting light onto the black fixture with an ominous glow.
I heard him calmly rustling about the room again.
I closed my eyes and calmed my mind once again.
The air felt dense, as though the room itself was watching.
Almost like the room itself understood what happened within its walls.
I gently shifted myself upwards on the bed so that my legs were no longer hanging off.
I placed my arms at my sides and my legs straight.
I kept my eyes closed and took one deep breath.
The brush of a hand across my leg startled my eyes open.
“It’s just me,” he reassured.
I felt the gentle touch of him on the only part of my leg that the denim left exposed.
My body began increasing in warmth despite the chilled temperature of the room.
“I’m going to take care of you,” the words wrapped around me as I lay motionless beneath him.
“Breathe slowly,” he ordered, “eyes open”.
He began walking slowly around the bed.
His eyes were fixed on me as if I was his only obsession at that moment.
I heard the occasional rustling of the tapestry as he made his way around the bed.
My breathing was calm; I was at ease for the first time.
His hand would occasionally brush whatever part of my body it could reach as he passed.
After a few trips around the bed, I heard nothing.
A deafening silence that caused me to search for his presence.
As I looked above my head he came into my view.
His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
My eyes closed from the sheer passion that was transferred to me through his lips.
I felt him caress the side of my head, with his hand entangled in my hair.
His lips brushed mine and I gently lunged towards him, but he pulled away.
He walked slowly to the foot of the bed.
His hands traced slowly along my legs through the heavy denim still clinging to my skin.
His hands began to wander more freely than before.
By the time Damian’s hands made it to my waist my nervousness had gone.
The initial feelings of wanting to give myself to him had transitioned from what I felt I should do to what I knew my purpose was.
I wanted—no-- I needed to become his.
My body trembled as his hands slid, seemingly innocently, under the transition of my blouse.
His fingers caught against the waistband of my pants, tugging the fabric just enough to pull it away from my skin before letting it settle back into place.
His attention lingered on the button at my waist, his fingers brushing over it with maddening patience.
His fingers fondled the button for just a moment before the small metallic release sent warmth rushing through so suddenly, I forgot how to breathe.
His hands took hold of my waist.
My bare skin being grasped by his strength.
For a few seconds he drifted upward but he released his grip before traveling much further.
My eyes were wide open, fixed upon the golden light that felt warming.
He appeared above my head once again.
He grazed my cheek on his way to my shoulder.
His drift continued down my arm, transitioning to my stomach.
His thumb ever so slightly grazed the bra that covered my breast, almost as if it was intentional.
His hand left my body with great intention before returning to a gentle caress of my face but only for a moment before he began moving to the foot of the bed once again.
My body was craving his touch.
Every time his touch left me I found myself needing more.
He stood at the foot of the bed and stared.
“Tell me you want this,” his voice came across as confident.
It seemed as if he knew that at that moment, I was powerless against him.
“I want this,” I admitted softly.