12 Days

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12 Days Page 140

by Dark Angel


  Jake is a fucking moron because he gets back up and sneers at me. “That the best you got?” he asks.

  He takes too long sneering and I bring my fist to his fucking nose.

  All of a sudden, there's blood everywhere as I kick him in the gut and he bowls over. I bring my knee and it connects with his skull. The man is about to collapse to the floor but I hold him up.

  I don't know what kind of game he was trying to pull here but it's not funny. He never gets a chance to do anything as I punch him in his face, right in the eyes, and he falls over on his back. That punch is so hard it makes me wince too. I hear the satisfying crunch that tells me I've done some damage. The man collapses to the ground and doesn't get up. So I do the only thing someone would do in this situation.

  I pick him up and hold him by the throat. I punch him again and he really goes limp in my arms. I think he’s completely unconscious. I knee him one last time and that's when I hear Sam’s sirens. I let him drop to the ground as Sam and two other security guys come over. They look over the body.

  Sam looks at me and I nod.

  "Why'd you bother calling us, Sire?" he asks.

  But I don't answer. I let his men place the three of them in restraints. They'll contact the local police - tell them about the trespassing and assault charges I intend to press.

  I look at Daphne. She's staring at me wide-eyed.

  "You forgot your panic button," I say and hold it up. Then I go over to her.

  "Are you okay?" I ask her.

  She's trembling. I hold her close to me and try to reassure her, “It’s okay."

  She looks up at me.

  "Derrick," she says, her voice scared. "Can you take me home?"

  "Sure, love," I tell her. "Let's go."

  She’s talking about my place. She’s calling it home.

  I get on my bike and motion for her to do the same.

  At first, she's a little unsure, but I give her my hand and she takes it, getting on.

  Fuck, she's going to need a helmet. I take my helmet off and hand it to her.

  "What about you?" she asks, her voice small.

  I'll chance going without a helmet for her.

  "I don't need a fucking helmet," I tell her. "I'm the fucking Prince."

  She's quiet.

  "Now, grab onto me," I instruct her.

  She reaches around and grabs my body. Her tiny hands hold onto my abs, as if she's holding on for dear life.

  Fuck me, her body is pressed up against me.

  I'm in fucking heaven. That's not just the fucking adrenaline talking, mate. I feel like I'm fucking on top of the world, going down the road towards the house on my motorcycle as Daphne is holding on behind me, pressing her hot little body up against me. I am so fucking hard right now, it's impossible.

  I need to get a hold of myself. I can't fucking keep thinking like this.

  She's supposed to be my ticket to stay in the fucking country. Not another heart I fucking break.

  Yeah, I know. I know. You're going to tell me I can fuck her and stay true to her. But I grew up with someone else, mate. Someone else I’m looking for. As perfect as she is, she’s no Alicia. If she ever knew how much I think about Alicia, she'd be disgusted and probably never talk to me again. That would be the end of it.

  She can't feel the same way about me like I feel about her. That's not who I am. Fuck, remember who you're talking to. I'm the fucking asshole, remember? I don't fall for girls. I don't get like this. I have fun with them. I treat them like princesses. And then we move on. We go our fucking separate ways.

  That's right. Don't you ever forget that either.

  The bike approaches One57 and I punch in the keypad on the gate to the parking garage, and drive through.

  Daphne's stopped trembling by the time I get to the elevator and I wait for her to get off the bike and walk through the doors of the elevator before I relax.

  I stare at her ass as she walks in.

  What? I just took some guy to near death because he slapped her. I can't stare at her ass just a little bit?

  She looks at me and smiles timidly before she walks in.

  Fuck me, she doesn’t realize that she reminds me so much of Alicia that it’s fucking uncanny. My heart’s still beating and I think back to the years after pushing her into the pond, where I tried to talk to Alicia. But I never had the courage. And then, as she grew older, and matured into a woman - how I gave up. How bad boy Prince Derrick was too fucking afraid to talk to the woman of his dreams. And now, how this beautiful woman Daphne saw all that rage and anger at losing Alicia through his own inaction come out.

  Christ, now she probably thinks in addition to everything else I've done, I'm a psycho too.

  Fuck my life.

  Alicia

  I don't even know on what I should focus on as we head towards Derrick's apartment: the situation I was just in, or the way Derrick's hard rock abs feel under my fingers as I hold on to him.

  I'm still shaking, my mind unable to let go of the hardness in Jake's eyes. How the hell did I ever feel something for someone like him? He's a monster! To think that he was ready to... I don't even know what he wanted to do with me! I'm just glad Derrick showed up when he did, like a true knight in shining armor. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't showed up.

  I know Derrick told me to have my panic button with me at all times... But, somehow, I never actually thought I would end up needing to use it. I guess I was just so embarrassed by the nipple clamp I wanted to get away, and I forgot about it and left it behind. Of course, the Universe then found it funny to throw me in a situation where I would need it badly. In a way, though, I'm glad I forgot about it – being saved by Derrick is way better than being rescued by his nameless security staff.

  I hold onto him tightly, my arms around his waist as we roar down 6th Avenue, the bike cruising easily through the traffic. Soon enough we're parking on One57's parking garage – which, by the way, looks more like a luxurious sports car stand than a true garage – and I start to breathe easier.

  He guides me towards the elevator and, as I enter it, I feel my whole body relaxing, the adrenaline that coursed through me starting to fade. Within moments we’re in his apartment. I look at Derrick, a meek smile on my lips. What do you even say to a man that might have just saved your life? And to think that the reason I'm with him is to ruin him...

  “Thank you,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.

  “For what?” He asks, almost as if he doesn't realize what he has just done. “Look... I'm sorry you had to see all that, Daphne.”

  He's sorry? Now that's something I wasn't expecting. Why does he even feel sorry? It wasn't his fault.

  “No... Don't tell me you're sorry,” I say, my eyes locking on his. “You... You saved me. I don't even know how I can thank you.”

  I try and smile at him, an almost imperceptible flicker of rage on his eyes.

  “I will never let anyone fucking hurt you. I'll die before that happens, love,” he says, the intensity behind his voice making my heart flutter. I feel my skin prickling, my cheeks flushing and... Oh, God, am I getting wet? I am, I really am - I mean, how could I not be getting wet right now? Derrick, a man richer than God and with a body more perfect than Apollo, is protective of me... And not only that, he remembers Alicia, my true identity. I still can't understand how he remembers that small young girl from so long ago... And yet, I can't deny it: I'm happy that he hasn't forgotten about me.

  And why am I this happy? Why am I attracted to him in a way that I've never felt before in my life? I truly don't have answers for any of these questions... And it doesn't matter, not now at least. All that matters is that I'm safe, back within the high-rise apartment I share with Derrick. And, more important than all that, he's here with me, by my side... He's so close that if I just reach for him with my hand, lay my fingers on his chest and – oh God, why can't I stop having all these thoughts?

  Truth be told, I don't
want to control them. Not right now. I just want to surrender to this desire that fills me. I know, I know... None of this was supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel any of this towards Derrick, I wasn't supposed to push my job and mission to the back of my mind and let instinct take over... But then again, Jake wasn't supposed to cheat on me and turn into a dangerous monster. Life never happens the way it's supposed to be, and that's not always bad.

  “You ok, love?” He asks me, cutting through all this web of contradicting thoughts that float inside my head.

  “Yes... I'm alright now. Thanks to you, Derrick,” I say, my eyes locked on his, a strange tension brewing in the air between us. Before I know it, my eyes are wandering to the perfect shape of his mouth and to his full lips... My heart is racing inside my chest, and I can feel all rationality inside of me becoming numb.

  The job, Alicia, think of the job, I try and tell myself. But I can't do what I'm asking of myself. I can't keep a clear head and pretend that I can resist him... Because I can't, to think otherwise would be just a lie.

  “Don't thank me,” he takes one step towards me, brushing the tip of his long fingers against my cheek. “You will never have to thank me for anything, Daphne.”

  Just like that, I know there's no possible escape. His warmness on my skin, the mixture of adrenaline and lust that runs through my veins... I'm tired of pretending I don't want him. I'm tired of acting as if I can resist my true feelings and desires.

  I take one step towards him, our bodies just inches away, and I finally accept it – I want him. I want him bad. And I will surrender to this.

  I grab the hand he has on my face, my fingers locking on his, and my lips curl into a smile. I look at him, losing myself in his eyes.

  Maybe there's a reason life put me in front of Derrick after so many years apart... And, for better or worse, I'm going to find out what it is.

  He leans into me and I close my eyes, surrendering to his kiss. His lips part and, in an instant, we are lost in a frenzied kiss, our tongues dancing in circles around each other.

  Oh my God!

  I’m so wet I’m surprised my juices aren’t dripping down my legs. It feels good to surrender; it feels good to accept what I want to do. Just look at him! He’s perfection incarnate! My fingers act by instinct and, grabbing the collar of his shirt, I tug on it and make all the buttons down to his waist pop one after the other. He throws the shirt to the floor and, as he does it, I stop our kiss and fall to my knees as if my legs suddenly became week. I just can’t take this anymore - I need to feel his hard and thick cock, and I need it fast. And by fast I mean now.

  I don’t even care about my job right now. With all this adrenaline still rushing through me, it’s hard to care about anything else besides his perfect thick muscles.

  He’s controlling even in his kissing, slowing the pace and speeding up at will, just to let me know he’s in control. His hand is in the nape of my neck, positioning my head so that he can take my mouth passionately. His tongue is experienced, and I’m soaking wet already. He takes these pauses, where he bites my lip, pulling it between his perfectly straight teeth, and then he pulls that handsome face and just looks at me. Each time I stare breathless, waiting for him to say something, but he never does. Once he squinted and I wondered if he was realizing who I really was, that it’s me Alicia, but he just pulled me in again and slid his tongue against mine.

  “You don’t have to do anything, Daphne,” he says to me and I have a sinking feeling to just tell him the truth, all of it.

  “What do you mean?” I ask instead.

  “You don’t owe me for beating up your wanker boyfriend,” he explains.

  “Oh, no… I know that,” I assure him, a little taken aback that he would even care why I finally gave in to his seduction. He’s obviously wanted to fuck me since we met, why is he acting like it matters why I choose to sleep with him.

  “This is probably his worst fear, someone else getting what used to be his,” he smirks while pulling me towards him.

  “He’s never had me,” the words fall out of my mouth. If I’m not going to tell him the whole truth, I can at least tell him parts of who I really am.

  “You’ve never been with him?” He asks confused and I shake my head.

  “I’ve never been with anyone,” I clarify, fearing his reaction. Guys like Derrick don’t want a virgin. They want someone with experience who they can trust not to get all caught up, thinking its love. I know, he’s admitted that he was in love with me, but he doesn’t know I’m me. You know what I mean, don’t look at me like that.

  “Are you serious?” He drops his hand from my neck and takes a step back, his eyes wide in shock, possibly horror. He tilts his head to look at me closely as if he’s inspecting something and I look on in anticipation.

  “If you don’t want to --,” I start but his tongue is in my mouth before I can get the words out. If his kisses were a sensual passionate before, these are a desperate passion. He is kissing me like his life depends on it, like the key to his heart’s desires are locked within me. When he finally releases me I’m panting and I can feel my lips are swollen.

  “You would give me that?” He asks and my heart flutters again. He considers me to be such a prize. No one has ever made me feel as special as he does.

  “Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

  “Seriously?” He asks and I nod my response.

  “Say it,” he commands.

  “Yes, Derrick. I want you to have my virginity,” I smirk but he looks on with complete sincerity as his blue eyes sparkle looking down at me.

  “Come here,” he says softly and I walk into his grasp before feeling his strong hands on my ass, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he buries his hands into my hair, our lips find each other again. I’m so lost in our embrace I barely notice we’re moving as he walks through the expansive condo, carrying me like I weigh nothing.

  His condo seems even larger since I’m eager to get to his bedroom. The moment I pull back from his kiss, his mouth drops to my neck, kissing and licking me before grazing my skin with his teeth. It feels incredible and I moan a little, tilting my pelvis towards him.

  Turning down a corridor I wonder how he can tell where he’s going with his face buried in my neck, seducing me on the go.

  We finally make it to his bedroom and its beautiful, nothing like I would expect. Sure it’s manly, but its no bachelor pad room. No posters or dirty laundry spewed about, instead there’s a range of black and charcoal furniture. A large, black four poster bed is the star of the room, with red artwork tastefully hung throughout. The far wall is made of floor to ceiling windows with an incredible view of the city, and I can tell the wrap around balcony he told me about extends all the way here.

  Leaning over, Derrick places me on the bed like I’m a glass doll before standing before me, first ripping his shirt over his head to expose those washboard abs I’d been holding onto on the ride here. They’re even more impressive in person. His undressing makes me think of myself – oh shit, I’ve still got on my workout clothes and I’ve just finished a run. I must be a salty mess.

  “Maybe I should shower,” I suggest, the anxiety clear in my shaky voice.

  “You taste perfect, love,” he smirks, as if he’s reading my mind.

  “May I?” He asks with his hands at my waste, and my heart rate increases as I nod my head. His eyes are locked on mine as he slowly pulls my yoga pants down, leaving me in nothing but a thin pair of boy shorts and my sports bra.

  Taking a fistful of my hair in his hand, Derrick pushes my head back and kisses me with a ferocity I’ve never felt in my life. He’s charging forward and my legs happily spread for him as he lays directly on top of me.

  “Take these off,” I tug at the hard denim fabric of his jeans.

  “I will, love,” he chuckles and then brushes my hair back, away from my neck. I’m flat on my back, each of my legs wrapped around his broad frame and my hands race up his nak
ed back, my fingernails teasing his damp skin. His body twitches to my touch and I know I’m affecting him.

  Derrick abruptly stops kissing me and rises up, pulling me with him. I look on in confusion, but he seems determined as he tugs at my sports bra. Raising my arms in the air, I help him free my D-cups before tossing the bra across the room.

  “Fuck,” I read his lips more than hear the word as he stares at my breasts before kissing me again as he pushes my back to the mattress so that I’m again lying flat. His mouth traces from my mouth to my jawline, his lips and tongue teasing me before making their way to my neck, where he sucks and kisses me more. Then he moves further down, tracing my collarbone with his tongue before placing slow, wet, deliberate kisses down the center of my chest.

  Stopping at the center of my boobs, he grasps one in each hand, massaging them perfectly, much better than I did myself. Then he begins kissing all over my right breast, his tongue and lips work together masterfully. My body is squirming beneath him, my legs again wrapped around his lowering frame.

  I knew he would know what he was doing, but my God! The Prince of Sin is a fucking master of fucking. I’m sure of it and we haven’t even begun! Stop looking at me that way. Yes, I watched the video of him swinging his junk in front of America, and yes I heard his arrogant assurances, but no I didn’t think he could ever be think gentle and sensual. He’s like a scientist the way he’s taking his time.

  “Ahh!” The moan causes my back to arch, but I’m restricted under his weight. Derrick glances up quickly, a shimmer flashing in his eye, before moving to my other breast.

  His tongue moves in circles as his lips kiss in their wake, circling my nipples before taking the dark pink skin into his mouth, sucking gently and then teasing my hardened nipple with his teeth. Oh my it feels amazing!

  Once he decides he’s teased my breasts enough, he moves lower, kissing my belly, stopping again at my navel to lap over the delicate skin with his tongue.

  “That tickles!” I squeal, and he looks up at me, donning that smirk, before nibbling the skin leading to my boy shorts.

 

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