by Vivian Cove
“That’s right, Princess. Put me in my place. And let me worship every part of you, because every time I touch you, I can’t believe that it’s really happenin’, that a guy like me could get so lucky.” He kisses me hungrily. His fingers slide through my hair as his pelvis knocks into mine.
You know how people say there’s no greater power than love in the universe? Well, I feel the full force of his love growing between us and nothing on this earth can hold it back.
Groaning, he unzips his pants. He’s free and so ready for me that I can see his body tense with anticipation as he grabs it by the base and swings it towards me.
“Oh. My. God.” I am never gonna get used to the size of him.
And then I realize we’re in the club. And other people are in the club, too. And that I may be just a little louder than most.
“Uh, Damien? Maybe we should talk about this.”
“Don’t give me that anyone can hear shit. Anyone hears, I’ll cut their dick off and plug their ears with it.”
Wow…that is so overkill…and also not a good plan. “They might rush in here and…”
“One sec.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls a ball gag.
What the hell? A sex toy? I scowl. “Where did that come from?”
“Don’t worry. It’s new. I bought it this morning just for you.”
“Um…why?”
“Because we needed to talk.”
“You bought a ball gag for me because we needed to talk?”
“Yeah. To help muffle the sound.”
“The sound of what? Me talking?!?”
“No. The sounds you make when we don’t talk.”
Did the asshole think I went around grunting like a boaress in heat? “What the hell? I don’t make sounds when I’m not talking!”
He has the nerve to look exasperated. “Princess, do I have to spell it out for you?”
“I don’t know. Can you spell?”
He grits his teeth. “Yeah, I can, better than you. Remember the word I knocked you out of the Spelling Bee with in fourth grade?”
Did I remember? Oh, the shame of it. I wish I could forget! “You shouldn’t be so proud of knocking me out since you got knocked out in the next round! I mean, you spelled ‘Produce’ P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S.”
“Maybe if you didn’t always eat all my fuckin’ fruit at lunch I woulda gotten it right.”
“It was just sitting there, tempting me! You should’ve eaten your fruit faster if you didn’t want me to take it!”
He raises his eyebrows. Alright, even to me that sounds like a really lame excuse.
“Look, we aren’t talkin’ ‘bout the word that knocked me out, we’re talkin’ ‘bout the word that knocked you out. Do you remember what it was?”
I shiver. “No.”
He grins devilishly. “I think you do. And I think you remember what I whispered to you when I lost the next round and sat down right next to you.”
Oh shit! “I totally don’t.”
“I do.” Then, the bastard leans over and whispers right in my ear, “Reproduction isn’t spelled with a K.”
Every part of me is trembling. What the hell kind of fourth grade Spelling Bee even had words like “reproduction” in it? Seriously!
I glance down and…OH FUCK!
His gigantic cock is right on my stomach.
“Look, just because you have a big cock doesn’t mean you have to be so cocky!”
He cracks a grin and maybe—just maybe—chuckles a few times.
Alright, alright. He laughs in my face. “Did you seriously just say that to me?”
“No.”
He shakes his head. “Princess, you’re hurtin’ somethin’ fierce. It’s makin’ you say and do weird shit.”
“Yeah right! I say and do weird shit all the time!”
He tilts my chin up and continues as if I hadn’t just said something. “But it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“Yes it does.”
“No it doesn’t. I can make you feel real good.”
“I don’t want to feel good. I like feeling all hot and…oh shit, I mean, I’m not feeling hot. I’m just…” Damnit, desire was clouding my brain. I had nothing.
“Come on, Princess. Open up those sexy lips.”
He holds up the ball gag. The gag he bought this morning.
“You pig!” I yell, slamming a fist into his shoulder. “You thought it was a forgone conclusion that we were gonna fuck!”
“No, I was carrying it just in case. You know, like how a guy might carry a condom around in his wallet.”
“So what you’re saying is that that ball gag is like a condom for my mouth.”
He winces. “I know it’s not the most romantic gesture…”
“Yeah, NO SHIT!”
“But, goddamn it Princess, do you know how hard it is to think when your dick’s this hard?”
I glance down.
Holy hell. Screw thinking. I don’t know how he was still standing. That thing was so huge, it was amazing he didn’t fall forward on his face every time he got hard.
And, more than that, I wanted him.
Inside me.
I glare at him and grab the ball gag out of his hands and stuff it in my mouth. “Fine! Do your worst! And if you don’t make good on your promise to make me feel good, I am so gonna kick your ass!” That’s what I meant to say, but I had a ball gag in my mouth, so it was more like: MUAAGUAAGGUGUGUGAAGOGUGJFUFLAAAAZZZZ!
Damien grabs my hips. “I have no idea what you just said, but you wanna fuck, right?”
Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I do. I nod.
“Thank God.” His fingers slide along my inner thigh before looping around my knees. He pushes them back.
I run my fingers up his tattooed chest. The tip of his cock slides down my slit. My stomach muscles clench with anticipation. Slowly, he slides the head in.
I latch onto his biceps, crying out.
“You look a little scared, Princess.”
Goddamnit, is he smirking? I scowl up at him. Yes! He’s smirking!
He leans down and kisses my temple. “Don’t worry. You can take it.”
And then he takes me.
Completely.
In one swift, fluid motion, he fills me.
I cry out, looping my ankles around his waist as his hands slide between my ass and the desk. “Fuckin’ love your big ass, Princess,” he rasps.
Normally, hearing him call my ass big would set me off like one of those really old (and really dangerous) illegal firecrackers Clarence sells out of the Men’s restroom in the back of the gas station every summer. But right now? I’m glad my ass is big enough for him to grab with both hands and take his fill.
I spread my legs back even further and arch my pelvis forward, giving him easier access to my pussy. He groans, moving faster, each thrust so powerful that it feels like it will shatter me.
But I take it, because I love it hard like this. Rough like this. Because I’m a biker chick who gives as good as she gets.
My nails run down his chest, making his muscles flex. His grip on me tightens as he complies with the demands I can’t scream out due to the damn ball gag in my mouth.
Faster. Harder. Take me completely.
He grabs the back of my head and claims me with a hot, ruthless kiss. “Love how fuckin’ greedy you are, too,” he whispers.
Before I can gurgle something back at him, he pounds into me.
My teeth bite down, hard, on the rubber ball in my mouth. I keep biting as he holds my hips in place and takes me completely. Every muscle in my body is deliciously tight and aching with a need only he can fill. And, oh sweet lord, does he fill it. Fierce bliss fuels my veins, claiming every cell in my body with its dark ecstasy.
I love how you feel, Princess. Love takin’ you like this.
And I loved how he felt, moving in and out of me, sometimes too hard and sometimes not hard enough, prolonging this sweet torture.
Forever.
I shut my eyes as my nails clamp onto his tapered hips like claws. My tongue rolls against the ball gag. I wish I could explore his skin thoroughly with my mouth and tongue, the way he’s exploring mine. Instead I can only bounce my hips against his as I try to match his pounding, ruthless rhythm.
“I got you, Princess,” he says, moving one hand from my leg to my clit.
Oh. My. God.
Thank everything on this planet I have the ball gag on, because I am screaming with everything I am. My body falls back as my core tightens. He continues to rock into me, riding my orgasm as I scratch and kick as my vision goes black.
And then he cradles my head, kissing me thoroughly, his tongue moving in tune with each confident thrust as he finds his own peace inside me.
He finishes quietly—insanely quietly when you compare it to me even with the damn gag.
His thumbs brush my cheeks. “I love you,” he says.
I tremble. Three words have never stirred my soul so much. How can I even explain how powerful and spiritual what just happened was? All I can think is to say his name.
Damien. Damien. Damien. “DAAAUIUGUH.”
What the fuck was that?!? Did that just come out of ME?
“Yeah. I know you feel the same.”
What the fuck? That’s not what I said! “BUAUAUAGUAUAUA!” I let go of his arms and rip the ball gag out of my mouth.
“BUAGUAUAUA!” I belt out. What the hell did this ball gag do to my pipes?!?
Damien just smiles again, as if me doing bad Xtina singing impersonations is normal, which it totally isn’t.
“You wanted to hear me say it again, right?” he asks. “Well, there you go. I love you, Princess. Always have. And I don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout the bike or the debt, but I do plan on gettin’ those two lapdances. Not ‘cause you owe me, but ‘cause it’s fuckin’ hot as hell when you jiggle your bits.”
I swat him. “You swine.”
“I may be a swine, but you’re my pearl.”
WTF??? “You did not just say that.”
“Unfortunately I did.”
I smirk. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”
“Well, you better get fuckin’ used to it. I’m such a fuckin’ softy when it comes to you, it’s embarrassing.”
My throat tightens. All his softness was making me feel kind of soft, and there was something I wanted to tell him, too. “You know, I kind of like you.”
“Only kinda like?”
“Yeah.” Did Demon Spawn really expect me to give him more than that? “I don’t want you to get too full of yourself.”
“I don’t need to be full of myself long as you’re full of me.” He slaps my ass. “Nothin’ can keep me away from this perfect pussy.”
I laugh because Damien’s brand of “sweet talk” is ridiculous.
He groans.
I frown. “What is it?”
“You get real tight when you giggle, Princess.”
“What?”
“Real tight. Squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ fist. I need to go again.”
“WHAT?!?”
He smiles down at me. “You got any objections?”
“Well, I guess not—”
Then he slams into me, and I don’t have any objections at all.
Chapter 13
So, two weeks of having nonstop sex with Damien has been pretty great. And pretty fucking intense. I’ve actually started doing some stretching to get ready for our carnal marathons.
Alright, alright. It isn’t formal stretching. But, like, when the chip bowl is by my feet, instead of scooting over, I do bendy things to get it. And sometimes those bendy things don’t even tip over the chip bowl.
Anyway, things with Damien have been even better…
Except for one little thing.
Damien still wants to tell my dad about us.
I still do not want to tell my dad about us.
Damien argues that sneaking around is sketchy. As a man, your word is your honor and blah blah blah. He doesn’t like crawling through my window every night like a creeper, or making sure the halls are clear before I enter/exit his room via his door. And as much as he loves camping, he doesn’t like getting it on in the woods all the time. It’s going to be winter soon, and people are going to start hunting deer and bears and shit.
I argue that I do not look like a bear, and how dare he even suggest a thing.
He then tells me that I’m missing the point.
I then tell him that, no fucking way am I missing the point, you are the one missing the very important point that my father will kill you and then I will die of shame.
He tells me that he’s pretty sure everyone in the club except my dad already knows. Instead of going out to strip clubs and screwing a different woman every night, he’s been hanging out in his room. “Alone.”
I tell him that they are probably just not inviting him because they think he’s a freak that fucks gory blow-up sex dolls.
He then asks me why on earth they’d think something like that.
I pretend like the floor is very interesting.
He then exclaims that it doesn’t matter what I say, he has to own up to what he’s done and face his punishment like a man, (again with that pride thing), and gets up to leave.
This is where I take my shirt off.
And I win the argument.
I win every single argument. Socrates doesn’t have nothin’ on me!
Damien and I just had an argument, and it ended the way it always does.
With mind-blowing, soul-shattering, death-defying, sex.
He finishes, slapping my ass as he pulls out of me. “Fuck, Princess.”
I’d probably say something similar if I wasn’t on all fours with my face stuffed into a pillow and a ball gag wedged into my mouth.
He unfastens the gag. “We need our own place so you can be as loud as you want.”
I get on my side, plant my elbow into the pillow and prop my head up. “It’s not like I want to be this loud.”
Damien grins. “Fine. As loud as I want. Fuckin’ kills me to not hear every sound you make as you work over my cock.”
It’s hard to argue with logic like that.
He leans forward to give me another kiss. Before his lips reach mine, all hell breaks loose.
There’s a roar and a flash of light as the club shakes. Yes, actually shakes. Like it’s on a spinning top instead of solid ground. Damien grabs me and throws me onto the floor, then throws his body on top of mine.
The lights flicker once, twice, then go off.
Crash!
Glass breaking. Wood splintering. A stampede of footsteps and screams and loud, sharp, metallic sounds ruptures the air. Damien’s hand slides over my mouth, probably to keep me from screaming, but I’m too shocked to scream. Too shocked to do anything but watch, wide-eyed, as the shadows of men’s feet running through the hall spill through the little crack between the door and floor.
My heartbeat echoes in my ears. My body trembles beneath Damien’s. I can feel his hearth thumping on my back.
Damien holds me close and rolls us both out of the middle of his room, to the closet space behind his bed, where he holds me until the men pass.
I wish, once the men passed, that nothing else happened but that’s not the case. There’s more screaming, shouting, more awful sounds ripping through the night.
Damien pulls me up. “You okay?”
Am I okay? I don’t feel okay. I feel like the world is ending.
“Princess?”
The concern in his voice knocks me out of my fearful prison. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Good. I want you to stay here.”
“In your closet?”
“Yeah. Don’t move until I get back, alright? No matter what you hear.”
I don’t like the sound of his voice. I don’t like the concern in his words. “Damien, what’s happening?”
He glances at the door, eyes weary. �
�I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
He sighs and his grip on my shoulders tightens. “This isn’t good, Princess. Just stay here and stay safe.”
“Where are you going?”
He gulps.
“You’re just going to leave me here?”
“My brothers need me. Your father. Our family.”
I shudder as more screams pierce the air.
“Princess?”
I nod, grabbing my knees and holding them to my chest.
“I love you,” Damien whispers. Then, he goes to his chest and grabs his gun. I watch it glint in his hand.
“If you get hurt I’ll never forgive you,” I whisper back at him.
In the moonlight, I can see him smile slowly, sadly. Then, he turns away from me and out the door.
It feels like an eternity passes. Each scream cuts my soul. My father. My brothers. My family. The man I love…
I hate how weak I am. I hate how Damien didn’t ask me to come out and help him, but instead told me to hide in the closet. I want to help them. I need to help them. But what can I do when there is so much violence all around me and I know nothing of violence?
I sit there, trembling, until the screams stop.
And then I realize there is something much more horrific than the sounds of anger and destruction: the silence that comes after.
***
There is a gun in my drawer.
My dad taught me how to shoot. How to load it. How to turn off the safety. It was one of the first things he taught me when I came to live with him. He didn’t want anyone messing with his daughter. If anyone fucked with me he was going to show them hell, but he also wanted to make sure that before he did, I’d show them hell first.
I grab it, hand trembling. I’ve shot bottles off a fence before. I’ve gone to the range with my brothers. But I’ve never used a gun against someone.
As I tiptoe down the hall, I realize that because of that, I’ve never really used one at all.
I keep my hand on the wall to steady myself. The lights are on, then off, then on again. Flickering like a heartbeat, then disappearing into darkness. What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck do I think I’m even going to be able to do? I don’t know but I keep moving, because it’s quiet now and Damien didn’t come back. Because it’s quiet and it shouldn’t be.
