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Damien's Promise: A Dark Romantic Suspense (VENGEANCE Book 1)

Page 31

by Vic Tyler


  My pants are mixing in with my moans, and I sound like I’m crying, but I can’t tell.

  Something intense is coiling tight in my core, threatening to blow over, and I’m afraid I’m going to explode when it does.

  “That’s a good girl. Keep fucking your fingers like that,” he husks. “You like that? Does it feel good?”

  He knows it does. I’m going crazy here, and he’s just standing over me, watching it all happen.

  “Tell me,” he growls.

  “Yes, it feels so good.” I’m sweating all over, and my body’s writhing on the bed. “I can’t, Damien. Please!”

  I don’t even know what I’m begging him for, but I’m hoping he has the answer.

  And he does.

  “Come, Adriana.”

  I scream as my body arches with the most amazing feeling shooting through my veins, hot and electric, seizing all my muscles and rendering me just as helpless to it as I am to Damien’s words.

  It overtakes me, and my head is about to explode. All I can see is white, and my pussy is clenching and pulsing so hard around my fingers.

  Pleasure.

  What an understatement.

  When I finally come to, I’m limp on my bed — exhausted, trembling, soaked in sweat and my arousal, and in a cloudy haze where nothing can possibly go wrong.

  You could probably tell me that the world is ending, and I’d be like, ‘Okay, after one more orgasm, please.’

  Damien’s still standing in the same place, in the same pose, with the same expression. Except his eyes are darker with a wild flair to them and the muscles in his jaw look more tense. He looks high–strung.

  My gaze drops to the enormous bulge in his pants, thick and long, snaking down his thigh.

  My breath hitches. How did I not notice that before?

  Maybe it’s good because I would’ve been begging for him to take it out.

  “Take it out,” I breathe.

  Oh, welp. I did it anyway.

  The tension stringing his body and the taut air around him suddenly snaps, and just like that, he looks… normal.

  His face goes completely blank, maybe looking even slightly bored and annoyed.

  “You all good now?” His deep, authoritative voice neutralized, the raspiness from it gone, the huskiness flattening smooth as silk.

  “Damien?”

  It’s him but not him. He can’t have just changed like that.

  Turning around, he heads to the door. “If that’s it, then I’m leaving.”

  “Wait!” I scramble off the bed, nearly tripping over my own woozy feet.

  He glances back. “What?”

  There’s a touch of annoyance in his tone that makes me falter.

  “I —” What’s wrong with him? Why is he looking at me like that? “You —”

  He follows my gaze to his erection and sighs exaggeratedly. “Any pair of tits and ass with a naked pussy will make a man react. Don’t take it to heart.”

  “You’re lying,” I stammer. Even though my clothes are on, I feel more exposed to him right now than I did a few minutes ago. “You enjoyed it too.”

  His eyebrows stitch together, and I’m starting to feel as pitiful as the way he’s looking at me. “I did this to prove a point. You’re normal. Perfectly fine. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “You said you’d help me.”

  “And I did,” he says matter–of–factly and slowly.

  I shake my head. “Damien, don’t do this.”

  “Don’t make this out to be more than it is, Adriana. You were crying and upset, so I felt bad, but if you think I want anything more to do with you, you’re mistaken. I don’t want to lead you on. I care about you.” He pauses, watching me. “You’re like a sister to me.”

  Just as intensely as my orgasm was, the nausea roiling in my gut threatens to overtake me.

  “No.” My voice is shaky, and I can’t tell if the heaving pressure in my throat is because of all the things I want to say or because I’m going to throw up. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

  He wasn’t treating me like a sister when he was telling me how to pleasure myself. You don’t do that for a sister. How can he say that?

  I hate those words. I hate them so much.

  “You’re right,” he says gently, his face softening. Softening in all the wrong ways. Like he’s trying to comfort me. “The only reason I did this is because you’re not my sister, but that doesn’t change the fact you’re a kid, even if you just turned eighteen. You still have a lot of growing up to do.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that,” I yell. My fists are trembling. I want to shake him, make him come to his senses. He can’t possibly feel that way. His words and his actions… “The way you treated me just now, the way you talked to me —” I swallow hard. “The things you told me to do —”

  “I’ve fucked a lot of women.” He dares to sound arrogant about it as he looks coolly at me. “I know what they like. Most of them want to be dominated. They need it. And I like dominating them.”

  He lowers his voice into a soft reassurance like he’s talking to a crazy person. A wild animal. A petulant little girl throwing a tantrum. “It just proves that you’re no different. Don’t feel bad. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Stop treating me like a child!”

  He wasn’t looking at me like one. He didn’t talk to me like one. He felt something. He had to.

  “Just because I treated you as a woman for a few minutes doesn’t mean you are one.” His words make my knees buckle.

  He doesn’t see me as a woman.

  What has all of this been for? What did I humiliate myself for? Make myself vulnerable for?

  “Find a boy your own age to play with. To explore your sexuality with. You have this opportunity to grow up as a normal civilian woman. Take it.”

  I’m always going to be the outsider. The little girl. The civilian. The one who doesn’t belong here. Who’s incapable of doing anything for herself — even making herself come.

  He looks sympathetically at me. “Kitty’s waiting for me upstairs, so I have to get going.”

  I want to throw up. I’m barely keeping myself standing.

  But I can’t do that. I can’t show him how vulnerable and weak I feel.

  I’m not as strong or beautiful or womanly as Kitty.

  He’s choosing her over me. He always has.

  No.

  I was never an option. He never saw me like that.

  He never even considered me.

  “Happy birthday, Adriana. Good night.”

  When the door closes behind him, I collapse to the ground, fighting to hold back the devastation tearing through my chest.

  chapter thirty-three

  “What are you doing here?” My voice is harsher than I intend for it to be.

  Sprawled in my bed, tangled in my sheets, is Kitty, wearing a pink terry cloth robe.

  I didn’t actually expect her to be here, but by the looks of how comfortable she’s made herself, she must’ve been waiting for a while.

  “Where have you been?” Her eyes travel over my body, and in a strange surge of self–consciousness, I’m hoping to whoever the fuck’s listening that she can’t tell how fucked–up I am.

  Everything about me is fucked–up. How can I not be after what just happened?

  “Get out, Kitty.” Without looking at her, I storm through my room, leaving the door open for her. “I’m not in the mood.”

  My balls are about to explode, and my cock is so swollen I might piss blood.

  See how fucked–up I am?

  I just hurt the person I care about most, using every single fucking thing I could think of to put her down so that she’ll keep away from me.

  It tears me apart knowing that she’s probably crying right now, but my body is overriding any mental restraint I have.

  But more than that, all I can think about is how she moaned, panted, writhed, and fucked herself in front of me
— spread wide open for me to watch every inch of that gorgeous pink pussy, sparkling with her waterfall arousal and perfuming the air with vapored lust.

  I can still smell it. I can still see it. I can still hear every single sound releasing from her full, beautiful lips as she lost herself to pleasure.

  She may have had the technical experience of having sex and she may not have a hymen, but that was pure. So fucking pure.

  “You’re always in a mood.” Kitty cocks her head, peering curiously at me as she twirls her brown hair around her finger. “The only question is which one.”

  I don’t even fucking know. I’ll think about it after I come and get all this pressure out of my dick.

  My head is buzzing now, and I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m still drunk or from the lack of oxygen circulating to it. Both, maybe.

  The sound of my pulse is deafening to the point that I don’t hear Kitty approach me. If I weren’t so disoriented right now, I would be ashamed of myself.

  “Mmm,” she purrs, palming my erection. My hips buck into her hand, needing to be touched. Fuck, that feels good. “I know exactly what mood you’re in.”

  Snatching her wrist and yanking it away, I glare at her. “I told you to get out.”

  Just the tiniest bit of guilt makes me bite back any more words.

  I don’t have the mental capacity for niceties, and I know if she stays here any longer, I’m going to fuck her.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Kitty since there’s only one person crowding my mind and making my body vibrate with such overwhelming need that I’ll probably come in twenty seconds.

  “Fine.” She shrugs.

  Thank god. It’s the one thing going right tonight.

  When I let go of her, she turns and presses her ass into me.

  “Fuck,” I groan.

  She grinds harder against me, and my hands move on their own, grabbing her hip and fisting her hair to pull her deeper against me.

  “Goddammit, Kitty,” I snarl.

  I hold back a moan which only encourages her, and my traitorous body thrusts back, needing release.

  A low, throaty moan hums through her throat, which sends shivers up my spine.

  It sounds so fucking sensual, and for some reason, it gets me even harder than before if that’s possible.

  “Why can’t you just listen to me?” My voice is harsh as I yank her hair back.

  I should tell her to leave again. I should stop.

  She whimpers, sounding so timid and sensual.

  Her mark this time must like them young and innocent.

  I wonder if they’ve fucked yet.

  If not, I’ll break her in and defile that virginal little act of hers for him.

  Fuck, I need it. I need to fuck her to get her out of my system.

  “On the bed.” My words are chopped through my heavy breaths.

  To my slight surprise, she runs and leaps on the bed. Her dark eyes peek over her shoulder when she looks back.

  “On your back and to the edge of the bed. Spread yourself wide open.”

  I hiss when she slips her robe off, tossing it onto the floor.

  She’s wearing that lacy pink lingerie set she was looking at earlier with Adriana. The one I just barely glimpsed over Adriana’s figure.

  “Why the fuck are you wearing that?” I growl.

  “Why not?” When I don’t move, she bats her eyes seductively. “I wanted to ask for your opinion since you left too early before.”

  Approaching her on the bed, I soak in the sight.

  It’s innocently sexy. I’ve never been so excited about the idea of completely taking Kitty. The idea of fucking her to oblivion and ruining her.

  Even though she’s far from being chaste, just the idea that I’m going to defile every inch of her body is enough to push me to the edge.

  But as I look down, I know that it’s not Kitty I’m excited about. That she’s not the one I want to ravage.

  And although their bodies look nothing alike, even with the lingerie masking some of the differences, all I can see is Adriana sprawled out before me in all that pink lace.

  I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

  I fucked up.

  I am fucked up.

  I’m not even trying to stop imagining that it’s Adriana in front of me. Not trying to forget how she looked touching herself. Not trying to push the memory of her orgasm out of my mind.

  Not trying to deny that I want her so fucking bad.

  “I brought my toys,” Kitty says suggestively, nodding her chin to a chest at the foot of the bed.

  I arch an eyebrow. I guess she wants it brutally rough tonight. Some men treat the virginal so delicately, but that’s not us.

  That’s not me.

  Leaning down, I harsh in Kitty’s ear, “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  Her throaty laugh vibrates against my lips as they brush over her outstretched neck.

  “Who says I’m not punishing you?” she husks lowly.

  I chuckle, grazing my teeth against her neck before slowly biting down so she can feel them dig into her flesh. “Don’t kid yourself, Katerina.”

  She giggles in her normal high–pitched tone before she gazes at me through her dark, hooded eyes.

  She spreads her legs wide open invitingly, and my fingers find her soaked opening.

  So wet, but my hand would’ve been drenched if I touched Adriana.

  “You’re right,” she moans seductively as I stroke her walls with agonizing leisure. “You’re punishing yourself, Damien.”

  Maybe she’s right.

  I sheathe myself with a condom before pushing her damp gusset aside and sliding inside.

  Kitty threads her fingers into my hair and pulls my face into her neck, and when I breathe into her brown hair, a familiar scent of something sweet and floral shoots raw desire into my veins.

  Gripping her hips tightly, I drive deep and hard into her, and she moans in a low, sultry voice, sounding more seductive than usual.

  Her hand drags down my back with a tickle, her nails shorter and rounder than usual.

  At least I won’t be leaving with bleeding streaks down my back this time.

  With each thrust, my cock gets harder as she moans, her voice low and sultry, more seductive than usual.

  Normally, Kitty and I fuck fast, hard, and rough, but right now…

  Now, it’s deep, slow, and passionate. A first for us.

  I never even imagined I could get off like this. Without pushing a woman to the edge of what she’s capable of handling. Without having her serve my every whim and using her pleasure to milk my own. Without scarring both of us, mentally and physically.

  “Damien,” she murmurs.

  My head feels so light from the intoxicating scent of honey and flowers, and I fist her hair, desperately drawing her closer as I fill my lungs with her smell.

  Fuck. If I close my eyes, I can imagine it’s her.

  A tiny bit of guilt that lingered until now disappears completely as I give in to carnal pleasure.

  I’m not even stopping myself from imagining someone else under me.

  It’s unfair to Kitty, but I can’t help it.

  I can’t help who I want in this moment.

  I can’t help wanting her.

  “Oh, Damien.”

  Soft breasts clad in pink lace push into my chest, and my mind spins with the memory of dark nipples hardening.

  My mouth waters, remembering how I wanted to wrap my lips around them and suck them out myself.

  My hands dig into the flesh under them as I imagine my tanned fingers against beautiful olive–toned skin.

  I grit as I drive my cock even deeper and harder inside this sweet little pussy.

  “Ah, Damien,” she cries.

  I groan aloud, unable to hold back.

  Goddamn. The low, throaty way she says my name is a sweet melody to my ears, making it so easy to lose myself in the fantasy.

  Her gasps intensify as I
pump inside her faster, and it only fuels me more.

  More.

  That’s right. Let me hear that pretty little voice. Moaning and panting and calling my fucking name.

  My fingers slip under the lacy underwear and clench her fleshy hips, pushing the thin fabric to its limit.

  It tears, and a ferocious growl escapes me as I bury my face in her hair.

  My breath is loud and ragged as I inhale shamelessly.

  God, she smells so good.

  “Yes, Damien.”

  The sound of my name on her lips is so perfect. And the way she says it like she has so many times before sears something raw and hot inside my core.

  I can’t help the animalistic grunts and cries grating out of my throat as I fuck her harder.

  Pressure builds up in my balls, and I’m so fucking close.

  “I’m coming, Damien!”

  “Yes.” My voice is a guttural rasp. “Fuck, yes.”

  Her moan fills my ears, and her voice is so familiar and comforting that it unleashes any last bit of restraint I had.

  Come for me.

  Come —

  “Adriana.”

  In an instant, I freeze, gasping as though the air will clear the clusterfuck in my head.

  Shit.

  “Oh, Damien,” she purrs with a giggle.

  Shit.

  The nausea hits me first, churning my gut.

  Before it’s replaced entirely by rage.

  It’s exactly the same.

  The way Kitty says my name. The same way Adriana says it. With the same lilts, pitch, intonation, and tone — everything.

  As my world comes crashing down around me, Kitty’s maniacal high–pitched laughter fills the room.

  My body trembles with fury and agonizing regret as I rip away from her.

  The drumming in my chest is to the beat of a furious war cry.

  I feel my face contort as I snarl, “You fucking bitch.”

  I was stupid not to question why she hadn’t switched back from the ‘disguise’ for her mark — why she kept her voice lower than it should be, why she’s been wearing those innocent dresses, why she smelled different and acted different.

  Why she was mimicking everything about Adriana.

  Kitty’s expression is finally characteristically her as she smirks at me, her legs wide open, exposing her pussy in that ripped pink lingerie that she dangled in front of Adriana earlier.

 

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