One Urge, One Plea, Keep Me Trilogy

by Scarlet Wolfe

  “I needed this today. Thank you, George, for all you have done.”

  “That’s what friends are for, and I’m not about to let that low life cost me my child’s college fund.” George chuckles, and for the first time since the news of my past was released, I feel some hope that it might be put to rest for good.

  Alayna

  Mrs. Golding is kind. She’s more reserved than Debra but still not lacking socially. It’s obvious from her demeanor that she was a politician’s wife. She’s elegant and graceful.

  Maureen speaks of Damon fondly. It sounds as if he was a happy child, and he shows me that part of himself more each day, but sometimes her stories make it sound as if Reed is a different person altogether.

  “I see you couldn’t help getting out the pictures,” Mr. Golding says, entering the room. I notice Damon isn’t with him, so I immediately feel protective and concerned.

  “Reed had to take a call, so I thought I’d give him some privacy.”

  Richard walks over and stands on the other side of the coffee table in front of me. I’m sitting on the sofa, flipping through an album. I can’t get over how much Rylan looks like Damon. He could easily pass as his child.

  The thought of Tiffany and her baby enter my mind. I wonder if she’s ruined any chance of Damon wanting to be a father.

  A telephone rings, so Maureen gets up to answer it across the room. She hangs up after only a few seconds.

  “Mia left her doll, Ariel, here. They’re about to pull in the drive, so I told Debra I’d run it out. Now, I have to find it,” Maureen says, her eyes searching the area.

  “Ah, there it is.” She walks over to a chair and picks it up. “I’ll be back shortly.” Smiling, she leaves me alone with Richard.

  “Reed was a cute boy. He was funny, too, always the practical joker.”

  A flash of pain had to have shown before I could hide it. How heartbreaking that as a father, he didn’t fight for his son.

  “I want to assure you that things should improve with the media. I took care of the matter, so this should go away soon.”

  Seeing photos of Damon as a child, and picturing Richard paying people off again causes me to snap. Shutting the album, I stand to my feet.

  “Mr. Golding, I’m a pleasant person, always respectful, and I’m often accused of being naïve. I tend to respect those I meet first instead of making them earn it, so they sometimes prove me wrong.”

  I feel my body trembling, my quivering lip defying me, but this time it’s not from a place of fear but a place of fury.

  “You’ll have to earn respect from me because all I see is a man who made his innocent child change his own name so as not to shame and humiliate his father.” Mr. Golding stares at me blankly. I’ve surprised myself, so I imagine I’ve done the same to him.

  “You would’ve had to explain why his name is different all these years, so to think you’ve barely been able to speak of your son outside of your family and social circle saddens me.

  “You might as well have told Damon he didn’t exist to you, stripping him of his identity the way you did. You should be the one feeling shame and guilt.”

  “Alayna, what are you doing?” Damon asks. I look over and see him and Maureen in the doorway, wearing the same stunned expression.

  “Damon, I’m sorry. Someone needed to speak up for you ... for Reed.” I grab my purse from the sofa. “I’ll be in the car.”

  I hurry from the room but not with my tail between my legs. My brother hasn’t mentioned it, but Damon told me about the day Curtis came to see him. It’ll be awkward when we’re around my family, so why not make it even?

  Roger and Marshall are promptly out of the car and seem caught off guard by my arrival. Marshall meets me about halfway up the drive and walks with me, scoping the area the entire time.

  The back door to the Mercedes is open, so I slide into it.

  “Thank you, guys,” I say as Roger shuts the door. I’m chewing on my nail and unsure of how much time has passed when Damon gets inside the car. He can be mad at me if he wants. His father needed to hear it from someone.

  “Look at me, Alayna,” he says sternly. Oh, shit. I turn my body to face him. He’s wearing a smirk as he takes my finger from my mouth and lightly bites it, those wicked pools of mischievousness staring back at me.

  “God, I love you. No one has ever stood up for me like that, not even my mother.”

  “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me.” I run my hand into his silky strands. “I love you, too.”

  “I believe you’ve earned five orgasms tonight.”

  “Damon, the four about killed me. I was exhausted.”

  “You’re at my service, remember?” Lips graze across mine. “And what I want is to make you feel writhing pleasure.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alayna

  “You’re both staying put, correct?” Damon asks before kissing my cheek.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes. Felicia and I have wine and a mouth to chat with, so we don’t need anything else. Oh, and we have lots of ice cream.” I grin and snicker.

  “We might need to run out and grab some vanilla. I hear you don’t keep that flavor around,” Felicia yells from the living room.” Shit. My eyes grow as Damon’s narrow.

  “She’s joking,” I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and tiptoeing to reach his ear. “She can have vanilla when she gets home, and I’m not as fond of it these days so no worries.” I blow in his ear before pulling his lobe through my teeth.

  I let him go and see that Seth is facing the door away from us. I guess we’ve made him uncomfortable. Glancing back to Damon, his eyes are boring into me.

  “You’re. Maddening. Woman.”

  “Have fun guys.” I grin as I hold my hand up and wiggle my fingers at them.

  He shakes his head and follows Seth out the door. After grabbing the glasses, wine and corkscrew, I sit on the couch across from Felicia.

  “He’s so protective and domineering,” she says with a frown.

  I give a sly smile. “And I love it.”

  “I will say, your confidence has increased since getting with the gladiator.”

  “He makes me feel like a goddess.” After pouring the wine, I hand Felicia her glass.

  “Don’t you think it’s demeaning or abusive?”

  “He would never force me to do something that I didn’t want, but my desire to please him makes me want to do everything he commands.” I take a sip of wine and tuck my legs under my butt.

  “I’ve never felt so wanted and important. There’s not a TV program he’d rather watch or a case of beer he’d rather drink. When I submit to him, he sees nothing but me. There is not a day that I don’t feel worshipped by Damon.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “You know, before meeting him, I thought BDSM was only kinky sex, but it’s actually this beautifully intense, emotional experience.” I take a larger sip of wine, realizing how much I’m sharing.

  Felicia’s fingers are twirling strands of hair off her messy bun until I finish my sentence. She freezes.

  “Wow. You love him. I was worried about this.”

  “Felicia, he loves me, too. He said it first.”

  “Shut. The. Front. Door. He did not.”

  “Well, actually, I said it first, but I think he was sleeping that night.”

  “Who would’ve thought you’d tear down his wall? Now, we have to get the paparazzi off your back, and you can live happily ever after.”

  I take the biggest gulp yet of my wine.

  “I am a little confused about something. I was only supposed to stay here temporarily, but Damon hasn’t said a word about finding me an apartment.

  “I’m afraid if I bring it up, and he doesn’t want me to move out, then he’ll get upset, thinking I want to leave. But what if he wants to give me the boot and feels like he can’t since I haven’t mentioned it.”

  “You want to stay, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I say, wh
ining. “When it’s only the two of us, without the rest of the world being obnoxious, things are perfect. I love sleeping in bed with him.”

  Felicia gets up and pours herself another glass.

  “What do you think he wants?”

  “He’s always saying that I’m his, and he’s not letting me go, but that doesn’t mean he wants me living with him.”

  “You’re going to have to ask, or it’ll drive you crazy.”

  “I guess you’re right. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  ***

  “Wake up, precious.”

  I hear Damon’s alluring voice, but I’m not ready to get up, so I groan and roll the opposite direction.

  “I had too much wine. I’m tired.” My body is rolled back over by Damon’s warm hands. I open my eyes and see his bulging, rock-hard erection in front of me as he stands next to the bed in only boxer briefs.

  “Take a shower with me please. I have a surprise for you after.”

  Reaching my hand out, I run it down the front of his boxers. “This isn’t it?”

  “I wake up every morning like this, thanks to you being pressed against me, so it shouldn’t be a surprise at this point.” His eyes are hungry but sullen.

  “OK, but I want to brush my teeth first.”

  Damon scoops me up and stands me on my feet before bringing me into a cozy embrace. I’m naked, and his hot skin has my libido wide awake.

  I pull away, demanding a few minutes alone in the restroom, and his impatience shows. Hmm ... I have a feeling I’m about to get fucked into more submission. What’s his issue this morning?

  I’m in the shower rinsing my hair when I feel his hands slide along the curves of my breasts, waist and hips. My mouth opens as his finds my neck. Wet swirls work their way up until his sultry breath is assaulting my ear. “We need to have a little chat.”

  Before I can reply, he picks me up by the back of my thighs and pushes me against the shower wall. His teeth bite down on my nipple and tug.

  The stinging pleasure has me whimpering and clutching his flexed biceps. The need to have him inside me is growing by the second as he nips and sucks.

  “Why do you want to move? Did Felicia talk you into it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Alayna, when I put you to bed last night, after you’d drank an entire bottle of wine, you asked me if I had found you an apartment,” he says crisply.

  Oh, shit. He bites down even harder on the other nipple before he’s bringing me down onto his cock. I moan as his wide length stretches me, the filling sensation spreading deep through my core.

  “Felicia didn’t try to get me to do anything.” God, this feels phenomenal. He’s slamming me down onto him repeatedly, and I can hardly breathe. “You hadn’t mentioned it since I moved back from St. Louis, so I thought I should ask.”

  I’m now vaguely recalling the rambling I was doing after Seth and Felicia went home. Oh, I feel the orgasm coming, and I’m not telling him. He’ll stop me from having it. I bite my lip hard, trying to hold in the moans as my back slides up and down the slick wall.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he says, sliding out and dropping me to the floor. Irate, I stomp my foot in the water.

  “Damon, why did you stop?” I put my palms on his chest and push against it. I’m seriously over him interrupting my orgasms, mainly because I don’t like that he can control his.

  “And how the hell did you even know?” I ask as he’s whipping me around, my cheek now flat against the shower wall. I should’ve seen this coming.

  “When you’re squeezing my dick like a vice, I can feel it, Alayna.” He grabs a hunk of my hair and slips a few fingers into me. “Do you want to move out?” His tongue glides down the side of my ear before his teeth sink into my neck. His sour mood is shining through this morning.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I asked you a question first, and baby, I’m losing my patience since I’d like nothing more than to stick my cock back inside of–your–warm–wet–pussy, so answer me.”

  A hand is pulling my hair, teeth are tugging my skin, and fingers are moving tauntingly slow inside of me. My legs begin trembling as all the sensations from his touch bombard me.

  “I don’t want to move out.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “I was worried if you wanted me to get my own place, you wouldn’t think you could tell me without hurting my feelings, so I was giving you an out.” I’m having trouble speaking as my cheek gets more acquainted with the marble.

  Letting my hair go, Damon’s fingers slide out of me. He turns me around and takes my face snug in his hands, his body flush against mine.

  “Damon—”

  Shutting me up with his lips, he kisses me deeply, engulfing my mouth, his tongue missing none of it. This kiss is desperate and ravishing as he smothers me with affection. Finally letting go, his head presses against mine.

  “I don’t want you to leave ... not ever.”

  Crashing my lips to his, I slide my hands over his backside and clench his firm ass. His erection throbs against my stomach as I push my hips into him.

  With even more urgency, he claims my mouth harder, a guttural sound filling it before he picks me back up and brings me down onto him, granting my wish. His words and touch are soul-shattering. Lord, I love this man.

  ***

  “Aren’t you going to ask about your surprise?” Damon asks, looking a tad disappointed.

  I pull my shirt over my head. “I thought you telling me you wanted me to live here was my surprise, and we need to discuss how I can contribute financially.”

  He stalks toward me in only his dress pants. He’s barefoot, too, and it takes me back to the first night he used the riding crop on me. Wrapping me in his arms, he kisses my forehead.

  “This is one of the reasons I love you, but I’m going to take care of you. Period.” He lets me go and walks into his spacious closet. “I need you not to argue with me about your surprise, either,” he adds loudly.

  Strolling over, I lean against the doorframe in my top and panties. Damon’s buttoning his shirt. “Pants, now, Alayna. I can’t have my way with you at the moment.”

  I smirk. “OK, but what’s my surprise?”

  “It’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  What is he up to now?

  Damon

  Doris calls from downstairs to ask if she can let my guest come up. I give her permission and stroll to the elevator. Alayna is distracted in the kitchen, chatting with Margaret.

  The doors open, and I’m greeted by a lady who appears to be in her late forties or early fifties.

  “Hello, Mr. Lear?” she asks.

  “Yes, come in.” There’s a rack behind her that is full of clothes on hangers.

  “I’m Sheryl Peterson, and my assistant, Maurice, is bringing up another cart when the elevator returns downstairs.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you doing this.”

  “That’s my job, Mr. Lear. I do this regularly for those who want to be discreet. Where should we take these?”

  “When your assistant comes up, we’ll take them into the living room.”

  I’m angry there will be another man in the penthouse until Sheryl has him leave after he brings up the other long rack of clothing. Alayna peers into the living room as we’re entering.

  “This is Sheryl. She owns a boutique in Manhattan. I was worried about the reporters following you around, so I had her bring things to you.”

  Giving a faint smile, Alayna approaches and sticks her hand out to Sheryl.

  “Hello, I’m Alayna. It’s nice to meet you.” She turns to me. “Damon, can I speak to you for a moment?”

  “Sure. Sheryl, please excuse us.” I follow Alayna to the kitchen. “Margaret, would you please see if Ms. Peterson would like something to drink?”

  “Of course, Mr. Lear.”

  Alayna’s nail is in her mouth as Margaret leaves the room. I expected her to be uneasy about this.


  “Damon, what is she doing here?”

  I glide my hands down her arms.

  “You told me you wanted to go shopping for lingerie. Well, I brought it to you, and I hear her selections are very nice. I had her bring other clothing, as well.”

  “I don’t know what to think about this.” She gazes up at me anxiously.

  “Don’t analyze this. I’ve hardly bought you anything, and it’s my fault you can’t be out by yourself. Now, anything you like, you better keep.

  “If I return home, and there is not a pile of clothing for me to watch you model, I’ll tie you up and have her return again tomorrow. Understood?”

  Giving me a breathtaking grin, she leans up and kisses me. “Felicia is going to be jealous.”

  “If it’s a success, we can do it again for the both of you.” I swat her on the butt. “I have to get to the office, so go, have fun.”

  “Thank you, Damon. Today has been perfect, and it’s only nine o’clock.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alayna

  “Submitting means to serve. If you’re worthy of my will, you’re worthy of protecting at any cost.”

  Sheryl is professional in her pale pink suit jacket and skirt. Her shoulder length, blonde hair has loose curls at the bottom and wisps of grey throughout.

  She’s kind, and I’m comfortable discussing my body with her. The gladiator has gone a little easier on me the last few days when it comes to marking me, and now I know why.

  I’ve tried on an entire rack of clothing and almost everything fits. Damon mentioned I’d be accompanying him to some ball type events throughout the year, so Sheryl brought two exquisite gowns, one of which I decide to keep.

  The lavender dress fits my curves perfectly and boasts a deep V neckline. It’s revealing and nothing I would’ve felt confident enough to wear before meeting him.

  It excites me imagining the look he will have on his handsome face when he admires me in it. I feel like a desirable woman from that look alone.