CHAPTER 32
NOW
DAPHNE
I’ve finally curled into the perfect position on my couch when a series of soft knocks calls my attention to the door. I push up, albeit reluctantly, tapping the screen of my phone to see it’s just after ten.
Normally, I’d be inclined to think Lucian lost his keys, but it’s far too early for him and Caleb to be done with their boys’ night. I’m guaranteed at least another three hours before they’ll be dragging their intoxicated asses through the door. Several more knocks sound out, prompting me to rise, stretching out my back before making my way toward the door.
I tug it open with a yawn, my tired eyes widening in alarm when I catch a glimpse of the figure on the other side.
“No!” My body springs into action, throwing my weight against the barrier in a desperate attempt to shove it closed. It’s no use, though. Nicky pushes in, scooping me up by the backs of my thighs and kicking the door closed behind him. He spins, pinning me to the wall as I thrash within his grasp, my hands delivering several slaps to his face.
“Get out!” I shout, my screams intensifying in effort to mask the tears threatening to slip free. “I hate you. Get out of my house!”
“Demon.” Nicky presses into my center, his hips locking me in place as he simultaneously secures my wrists above my head with a single hand. “I need you to listen to me.”
“I don’t have to listen to shit.” I grit my teeth, my tone seething with hatred. “Get the fuck out!”
“Not until you hear me out first.”
“I don’t have to hear you out, you piece of shit. That’s the beauty of being engaged to another man. I don’t answer to you.”
Nicky’s head dips, his mouth molding to mine without warning. The unexpected action catches me by surprise, my lips instinctively caressing his for the briefest of moments before I’m able to regain my bearings—the sting of my bite drawing blood.
Nicky pulls back, his eyes tracking the movement of my tongue as his own swipes out to rid his lips of any crimson smears. Any efforts to come off intimidating are clearly unsuccessful, judging by his smoldering gaze.
“If you won’t listen, then watch.”
I twist against his hold, attempting to wrench my arms free, when Nicky does some slight maneuvering, allowing him to lift his phone into my line of sight. He thrusts the screen in my face, the video from his in-home security cameras already in play. Any resistance I’d been attempting to harness ceases as I watch JP wrap his hand around some girl’s ponytail before she dips her face forward.
Her head remains there, bouncing up and down in his lap as his hold on her becomes a bit more forceful. JP’s pleasure filled moans intermingle with the wet sucking sounds emitting from the small speaker, the combination sending a rush of heat to my center.
My thighs, still slung around Nicky’s hips, tighten. He presses into me in response, his erection continuing to grow against me.
“Why are you showing me this?” I pant, fighting the urge to satisfy the ache building within me by rubbing against him.
“Just watch,” Nicky demands, his hips testing the waters by initiating the most miniscule of movements, sending sparks pulsing throughout my core.
I open my mouth to protest, only to shut it once again when a muffled ringing faintly trills from within the video.
“Hello?” the girl answers, the feed providing some much-needed context to the conversation I was subjected to the other night. I watch as she realizes the phone she answered isn’t hers—a fact she shares with JP before he encourages her to hang up so she can resume her demonstration on how she lacks a gag reflex.
“It wasn’t you,” I whisper in relief as the revelation washes over me.
“It wasn’t me,” he echoes before tossing his phone aside. It hits the floor, the resulting thud echoing around the open space as his lips descend upon me once more. The kiss this time isn’t controlled or measured as he slams his mouth to mine, a clash of moans, teeth, and tongues.
Nicky’s steadily hardening cock springs to life, suddenly standing at full attention as he grinds against my pussy, causing my quivering thighs to clench around his waist. He cradles my face, pulling back a fraction of an inch to peer down at me.
“You’re gonna ruin me all over again, aren’t you?” My question slips free a breathless whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding of my traitorous heart. Nicky stares at me for several beats, as if contemplating his response. Loosening his hold, his hands migrate down to my waist where he supports my weight as my feet lower to the floor.
I prepare for him to come to his senses. To storm out just as quickly as he forced his way in. Yet, he stands in silence, his eyes continuing to flicker over my form.
“You ruined me first, demon. Call it even.”
His hands fist at the hem of my oversized sleep shirt, discarding it up and over my head with a swift tug, leaving me bare before him. I allow my eyes to slip closed as Nicky traces along the delicate curve of my collarbone, bewitching my body with nothing more than a gentle touch.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he whispers almost reverently, like he’s speaking to himself.
I glance up to find him fixated on the path his fingertips travel, his hungry eyes slowly mapping the lines of my body as if refamiliarizing himself with each outline and curve. Feelings of desire and lust swell within me in anticipation, though they are tainted with the familiar sting of shame.
Because though I know what’s to come, I’m still going to give myself over to him. I see each and every red flag, every warning sign clearly highlighting all the ways this will inevitably go wrong like all the times before, and yet I submit.
I don’t bother asking what this means. I have no desire to hear the words he’s uttered a million times before explaining how we will never be anything more than this. Instead, I hook my thumbs into the sides of my sleep shorts and shove them down, allowing the thin fabric to pool at my feet.
Standing naked before him, my steadied resolve meets his gaze head on. “I still hate you,” I state, issuing the words as though they’re a condition of some twisted truce. They are, in many ways. Whether tonight leads to the latest recent round in our toxic saga, or simply proves to be an isolated incident in a long list of fuck-ups, I cling to them, reciting the four little words repetitively in my head. They’re the best chance I have at remaining sane when this too comes to an end.
Nicky nods in response, a silent acceptance of my terms. “I know, demon.” He slowly begins to back away, loosening his tie as he goes. Pulling the long strip of fabric free from his collar, he moves to undo the buttons of his shirt, the expensive cloth parting at the center, exposing the hard planes of his abs. Nicky pulls the hem of his shirt from the waist of his pants, allowing the sides to fall open entirely before discarding both it and his suit jacket onto the arm of the couch as he drops down. “But we both know you’re still gonna crawl to me like my good little girl.”
I want to be a smartass. I want to tell him to fuck off and send his ass packing right back the way he came. Neither of those things are possible, though.
Because while his declaration may be arrogant and degrading, it’s also one hundred percent true.