by Dani René
“You’re sick,” I bite out. Damien was right; he’s definitely nothing like Creed. I know they were friends for a while, but something tells me that Creed wouldn’t think twice about taking what a girl isn’t offering.
“I like to call it, determined,” he tells me, before turning away. A breath, I had been holding, escapes in relief. I watch him move through the room toward the trolley, holding decanters of all colors. He pours himself a drink and glances at me over his shoulder. “Drink?”
I shake my head, unable to find words. When we’re around others, he comes across as normal, but here in the dimly lit room, he definitely scares me.
“Why are you in here?”
“I sniffed out prey, and as a hunter, I wanted to peek at the pretty girl who entered my library.” He speaks, but his focus is on his glass. Even though he’s not looking at me, I feel his eyes roaming my frame. The silver light from the moon streams through the moment a cloud passes, allowing the illumination to cast a spell around us.
“Your library?”
“Yes, my father gifted it to me when I turned thirteen,” he tells me. “I have a love of the written word.” He swallows back the drink, before setting the empty glass down and turning his attention on me. “Are you in love with him?”
His question stills me for a short moment, before I realize he’s asking about Damien. I don’t know about love, but I do have feelings for him.
“Love is a wasted emotion,” I mimic Damien’s words from the first night I spent at Thorne Manor.
“I see my best friend has been rubbing off on you,” Creed murmurs. “It is wasted, but only on those who don’t offer it back. Damien is a special breed of male.”
“And you?”
“Oh, Darling, I’m nothing like him. You see, Damien may want to appear dangerous, feral, but he’s not. Down to his core, he’s a gentleman.”
“And you’re not?” I know the answer, but I ask it anyway. Creed is something else entirely, and now I see why Damien didn’t want me around him. He doesn’t seem apologetic when he glances at me. I watch him settle on a long black couch that faces the window. He crosses one ankle over the opposite knee and drapes his arm across the back.
“I don’t like not being obeyed.” His words drip with malice. “I don’t like being made a fool of, and I certainly don’t appreciate being lied to.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m sure you’ve seen the redhead who follows Damien around like a puppy.”
Genevieve.
“I have.”
“She’ll bounce on any Thorne dick. After Damien broke it off with her, she made sure to befriend his brothers. Granted, Finn is a sucker for a woman with big tits, I know he’s fucked her.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you asked me what I’m like.” He smiles, the corner of his mouth is the only thing that tilts upward, and in that single second, I notice how haunted his gaze is. “Gen is one of those girls who crave status. Damien offered it to her for a short while, because he thought she was decent. I, on the other hand, broke her down until there was nothing left. Your boyfriend tried to fix her.”
“Is that why you two aren’t friends anymore?” I ask, drawn into his words like a moth to the flame, and I wonder if his confession will burn me or if it will merely singe.
“Damien didn’t agree with my methods, my need to control and claim. I wanted to test the limits of our games, and he got scared.”
“What did you do?” I ask, my voice low, a whisper laced with fear. I have a feeling that I’m not going to like the answer, but I’m here now, so I may as well learn what happened.
“Let’s just say that terrible things happen in the dark.” Creed smiles, his eyes blazing with the threat of sinister actions. A shiver takes hold of me, and he notices my hands shaking. “Perhaps you should go find your boyfriend.” He gestures to the door with his chin. “Unless you’d like to join me next door.” This time, his eyes glance toward my left, to the door that he mentioned leads to his bedroom.
“Can I ask you one thing before I go?” I don’t know why I’m still standing here, but my feet don’t move. He lifts a hand, signaling for me to continue. “What happened to you to make you like this?” My question is also an answer. When I was trying to decide what I’d like to study, I never really knew where my passion lies. But it’s in this moment, with Creed, that I realize what I’d like to major in. It may seem silly, but for the longest time I thought I should go with a safe bet like marketing or business, but as I study the man before me, I ponder people’s actions because I’m curious as to why they do certain things. Like the satisfaction in Creed’s gaze when he notices my nervous energy and fearful stance.
Even my own addiction to a blade comes to mind. I cut myself to ease the anxiety that twists inside me. To allow the emotions I can’t voice to flow from me, to release me from the bindings of things that most people can easily talk about. I have never truly thought about the why, but watching Creed, I realize I need to know.
“Because I learned from a very young age that life doesn’t always give you what you want and need. That people will lie to your face, and when you turn your back, they’ll stick the knife in so deep, that while you’re writhing in pain, they’ll twist it until you’re nothing more than a broken mess. I vowed never to be that broken person again.”
I regard him for a long while as I soak in his admission, knowing I shouldn’t ask my next question, but also realizing he won’t hurt me; not here and now, “So, you turned into a monster?”
Creed pushes to his feet, but he doesn’t come near me. Thankfully, because I’m still trembling from our encounter. He offers a small smile before he shakes his head. Then he tells me, “I turned into the one holding the knife.”
He takes a step toward me, which has me retreating. But the more I move, so does he, until my back hits the cool glass. Creed’s hands cup my face, his thumbs resting on my cheeks, the heat of him searing me.
He is good looking, rugged, brutal, with ink on his hands and peeking out from the collar of his shirt, but he’s not Damien. I want to scream, but when my mouth opens, his lips steal the sound, and he kisses me deeply.
The whoosh of the other door has Creed breaking our connection, and I turn to lock my gaze on blue eyes so volatile, I feel faint.
32
Damien
I watch him kiss her through a cloud of rage. I know I shouldn’t be jealous because she wants me, but I can’t stop the toxic emotion from racing like a poison through my veins.
My body moves, and without thinking, my fist connects with Creed’s face before I have time to think. Nesrin’s squeak of surprise bounces off the walls, but I don’t even look at her.
“I told you, I will start a fucking war, Creed,” I inform him. Anger takes hold of me, and I’m on him again, my hands slamming into his chest, his face, but he doesn’t fight back.
“Damien,” Nesrin calls to me, but her voice seems so far away, as if she’s on the other end of a tunnel, and I just can’t get to her. “Damien stop.” Her words break through the cloud surrounding me, her hand on my shoulder stills me for a moment.
Looking at my former best friend, I realize he’s smiling. Blood drips from his lip and nose, and his left eye is already starting to swell. I told him not to come near her, but he didn’t listen. He brought this on himself.
His gaze lands on Nesrin who’s behind me, and I want to wipe the bloody smirk off his face. “I told you, Darling,” he says. “We may not be the same in our needs, but our wants, they’re exactly alike. The violence that simmers in this town runs in all of us.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” I grit out through clenched teeth, as I attempt to tamp down my anger. This is ridiculous. I don’t want to fight, but he knows I’ll do it if I’m pushed into a corner.
Creed tips his head, before retreating through the door that leads to his bedroom. We used to sneak in through there when we were younger, listening to his fathe
r when he had meetings in the library. It was our way of rebelling. Stupidly spying on the men of Thorne Haven, learning the secrets that run this town.
When we’re alone, I turn to Nesrin, pulling her into my arms and holding her there. Like an animal, I want to bathe her in my scent, to mark her as mine. But after the spat with Creed, he now knows not to come near her again. He was testing me, seeing if I’d fight for her, and I did. And I’ll do it again and again.
“Let’s go,” I pull her along, my fingers laced with hers. She doesn’t fight me all the way to the car, as people stare at her holding the rose that I gave her. The gossiping will start the moment we’re in the vehicle. Even as we drive home, Nesrin is silent, and I want to ask what Creed told her, but I don’t.
I have a feeling I already know. By the time we reach the house, the tension in my muscles has eased, and I take Nesrin’s hand, leading her up the stairs to the second floor, then down a small corridor that leads to the staircase that will deposit us onto the rooftop. I need her beside me tonight, more than ever. And this is my favorite place in the world.
When we get to the top, I allow her to step onto the landing first. Before us is a king-sized mattress, covered in a basic sheet and comforter, with a few pillows, along with a minibar fridge.
Nesrin stands behind me, as I tug my tie free and unbutton my shirt. She watches me, her eyes wide, as she takes me in. I turn to look at her, my body facing hers, and I reach for her, lifting her against me.
Her legs wrap around my waist, and every nerve in my body sparks to life as if I’ve been shocked by a live wire. A buzz skitters through me because, tonight, I’m having her. Claiming her. She’s fucking mine.
“I-I… I’ve never seen you so angry,” she whispers, as I lower her onto the mattress. The rooftop was a place of refuge when I was growing up. I loved being up here, away from everyone—even my brothers.
“Having his hands on you, his mouth on yours, it made me crazy. I saw red.” I settle beside her, needing her warmth and aching for her touch. Nesrin rolls over onto her side. Her eyes rake over me, burning every inch of me.
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again, I’m yours.” Even though she says it, it didn’t stop me from flying into a rage earlier when I saw her with him. She reaches for my face, her touch warming me from the inside out.
“I want to see you,” I tell her, rolling onto my back as I crook my finger. With a narrowed gaze, she sits up, kneeling on the bed beside me. “Straddle me.” The order is clear, concise. She doesn’t argue, and I watch her climb over me as if she’s about to ride me, which makes my cock jerk with approval.
“Now what?” she sasses, crossing her arms in front of her chest; she tips her head to the side, but rolls her hips to taunt me.
“Take that dress off.” My voice is husky, my body is tense, craving to touch her, but I don’t. Not yet. Slowly, Nesrin reaches for the tie around her neck and unbuttons it. The material slips down her chest, toward her hips. Then, she slowly tugs the zipper down, the hiss of the metal teeth echoes in the night, which causes my blood to run hot through my veins as desire takes over.
I watch in awe, as she pulls the material over her body, and soon, she’s only in a pair of panties that covers her pussy. The dress finds the floor, and I lick my lips at the thought of tasting her again. Her nipples are hardened pebbles, taunting me.
“And now?”
“Touch yourself, tug those nipples for me.” A groan rumbles in my chest when she wiggles her ass on my crotch. Her hands move tentatively. I can see her tremble. Even though she squares her shoulders, attempting to show confidence, I can tell she’s nervous. Her eyes dart between my mouth and my eyes.
“I’m…”
“Look at me,” I command. “We’re alone up here. And you’re making me so fucking hard, I can’t think straight. Just seeing your beautiful body has my muscles tense.” Her eyes widen, shock dancing in those golden orbs. “In a very good way.”
“It’s new to me. Having someone watch me,” she admits what I read in her demeanor. Nervous energy emanates from her with every shiver that passes through her frame.
“That’s okay,” I tell her, hoping to sound calm and not like a raging beast craving to devour her whole. I take her hands, guiding her fingers slowly up her sides, teasing a path to her tits. They’re just over a handful, her nipples are a light brown, with pebbled buds that are calling to me to suck on. “Close your eyes and imagine you’re alone. That you’re in bed, and I’m not even here.”
A slight nod is all I get, and she obeys. Her lashes flutter onto her cheeks, and she focuses on the task at hand. A soft moan falls from her lips as she tweaks them. Tugging gently, she whimpers when I grip her hips to keep her from moving on me. My cock is aching, and for a moment, I’m second-guessing this particular game.
I watch her for a long moment. She truly is spectacular. “If you keep that up, I’m going to make it hurt more than I already plan to,” I warn. My jaw ticking as my teeth grind together in an attempt to calm down. But she only smiles, finding her rhythm, lost in the pleasure she’s bestowing on herself, as well as me.
Another dick-jolting sigh comes from her plump lips as she taunts me with her heat flush against my crotch. Reaching up, I allow my fingertips to trail over the smooth, caramel skin of her chest, down between her breasts, and over her flat stomach. The panties she’s wearing are tight against her mound, and the heat of her is searing on my crotch.
I lift her up, moving us, so I can stand. With my gaze locked on hers, I watch her expression change, as she takes in my body when I shrug out of my unbuttoned shirt, then my slacks. Soon, I’m standing before her in only my boxer briefs.
I take my place on the bed again, before gently tugging on the waistband of her panties, pulling it down, just so I can see the smoothness of her body before I find the small dark strip of hair.
Lying back, I pull her over me again. I love watching her in control above me. Glancing up, I take in her expression. Her eyes are closed, as she toys with her tits.
“Look at me now,” I order from below her. Those golden eyes snap open, locking on my blue ones. “I want to see you, and I need you to see me.” I slip a hand between us and find her smooth lips.
The slickness of her arousal coats my middle finger when I tease her clit, circling it slowly. I revel in the shiver that takes hold of her when I tease her opening, before dipping a finger into her tight heat.
“Oh god,” Nesrin mumbles into the night sky. The stars twinkle above us, as she sits astride me, her body beautiful under the silver moonlight.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur. “Take your pleasure.” My words filter up to her with every gentle stroke of my fingers, in and out. Her body pulses around the two digits I have inside her.
Her thighs shake as her hips start moving faster and faster. I want so much for her to come right now, but the need to be inside her has me at boiling point.
“Stop.” I pull my fingers from her panties, causing a mewl of frustration to tumble from her lips. Her eyes are on mine, shimmering with desire and need.
“Why?” Nesrin whines, and I can’t help smiling at her frustration. I shouldn’t love it so much, but my control over her is intoxicating.
“Because when you do come, it will be on my cock,” I tell her, before reaching up to her tits, my fingers twisting her nipples, tugging them harshly and causing her to whimper. Her hips move. Her pussy rubbing against my thick erection earns her a growl of pleasure that vibrates in my chest. “Behave yourself,” I bite out, allowing my left hand to trail up to her neck.
My fingers wrap around the column of her throat, keeping her tit in my right hand. I squeeze her neck, stealing her breath for a moment, and I watch in the dim light how her eyes shine with challenge.
“Take my cock out.” My voice is unrecognizable. Her hands move to my boxer briefs, and she slowly taunts the tip of my shaft, as she tugs the material to my thighs. I keep a hold of her neck, as her palm warm
s my throbbing shaft.
“Damien.”
“Stroke me,” I order, lost, as pleasure sparks in my veins. Every inch of my body feels like it’s alight with flames licking my skin with every movement.
Nesrin’s hand moves from base to tip, over and over again, her thumb snaking over the slick blunt head, using my arousal, as she jerks me off.
“Jesus.”
“It’s just me,” she sasses, causing me to look into those golden eyes shining down at me. I pull her closer by her neck until her mouth is inches from mine.
“Suck me.”
I release my hold on her and watch as she slides down my body until she’s kneeling between my splayed thighs. Her mouth engulfs me easily, forcing a groan of animalistic need to rumble through me.
Nesrin licks and laves at me as if I were her favorite fucking lollipop, and I don’t think I can be more turned on than I am right now. She sucks me into her mouth. Even though it’s a tentative movement, the sparkle in her eyes has me wondering if my wild rose is enjoying herself.
Her throat closes around the tip of my cock, as I watch her take me deeper with every swallow. My orgasm nears, pushing me closer to the edge before I pull her off.
“Time for me to have some fun,” I tell her, as I flip us over. I’m on top of her in seconds. My mouth trailing soft kisses over her mouth, cheeks, and down her neck. I move to her nipples, pulling each one between my lips, grazing my teeth around the hardened buds.
“Oh god, Damien, please,” she pleads, her fingers tangling in my hair, but I’m not done yet. I kiss my way down her smooth stomach until I reach her mound, which I bypass, much to her annoyance. Instead, I push her thighs open, pressing gentle kisses to the scars that adorn her flesh.
“These are beautiful, they speak of pain,” I tell her, as I worship her body, just like I’ve been wanting to since I first saw her. “But they also scream of survival.” My mouth finds each small scar. My fingers trail over them, feeling the small ridges, knowing that even in her pain, even in her heartache, she’s perfect in every way.
