Her words barely landed. The way her hands clawed the seat. The rise and fall of her chest—those small betrayals mattered. She was hurt.
“Silvia means nothing,” I snarled. “Her father arranged that. You know it.”
“Liar!” she spat, though the edge in her voice trembled, as if she wasn’t sure.
Her phone buzzed, a sharp cut. She reached; I was faster, ripping it from her hand. Jenn’s name lit the screen. I answered, my tone ice. “Daisy’s fine. I’ll bring her to you tomorrow.” No pause. I tossed the phone aside and looked back at her.
Look at me, Daisy. See what you’re doing to me.
Her cheeks flushed, lips trembling. I drank her in—the flutter of lashes, a bead of sweat tracing her neck, the tiny twitch of her fingers. She was a masterpiece I kept unmaking.
Her phone buzzed again. A low sound crawled up from my chest. “Have you been drinking?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the haze in hers. “Who the fuck was he?”
“My ex,” she snapped, chin lifted, brittle.
The word detonated in my head.Ex.He had touched her. Kissed her. My vision blurred, my breath caught, and my hands trembled as I stared at her. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was a burning, all-consuming fire.
She was mine. Only mine. How dare she?
“Your ex?” My fingers wrapped around her wrists, closing tight on soft skin, her pulse hammering beneath my thumbs. I shoved her into the seat with desperate resolve.
“You go to a club, get drunk, and kiss your fucking ex? Are you trying to drive me insane, Daisy?”
“It’s none of your business!” she hissed, but her eyes betrayed her—wide, wet, shimmering with longing. She wanted me. She needed me. And it tore me apart.
“It’s all my business.” My face was so close I felt the shaky warmth of her breath. “You’re mine, Daisy. Only mine. No one else touches you. Ever. Understood?”
“Let me go!” she spat, but her hands stayed limp, her resistance only in words.
“I can’t let you go,” I whispered. “Not ever.” My grip slid to her chin, tilting it, forcing her eyes into mine. Her pupils were blown wide, and I saw it—she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Fuck. She was my ruin.
“Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”
“You’re sick,” she breathed.
“Sick for you,” I murmured, before crushing my mouth to hers.
She jerked her head away. “Fuck you.”
I grabbed her chin again, my mouth crashing down on hers, demanding. My tongue pushed deep, tasting her—wine, salt—and I groaned into her throat. Her taste. Addictive. I wanted to devour her.
Her nails scraped through my shirt, dragging me closer, like she couldn’t get enough of me. It was pain and release in the same breath, tearing me open even as she stitched me back together. I yanked at her top—buttons snapped, scattering across the floor, pinging against the glass. Her breasts spilled free, soft and full, nipples peaked a deep pink against her pale skin. My hands closed over them, firm enough to make her gasp, her back arching into me. I kissed down her throat, found the hollow, and sucked until her skin bloomed red beneath my mouth. Vanilla wrapped aroundme, dizzying, filling my lungs until I breathed her more than air. My lips grazed her ear as my fingers tightened at her throat.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth. Then I’m going to lick you until you beg for my cock. And while I fuck you, I’ll choke you until you don’t know if you’re alive or dead. Do you understand, Daisy?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I wanted to feel her, not hear her. I wanted to see her body react, her breath stutter, her pulse hammer under my skin as if it were my own. I wanted to destroy her. But I also wanted to save her. A contradiction knotted tight in my chest. I ignored it. Like always.
My lips moved lower, over her collarbone, down the swell of her breast. I closed my mouth around her nipple, tongue circling the tip until she moaned. That sound. I would have killed for it. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted her screaming. My hand shoved her skirt up, and I tore her panties down, rough and fast.
And there she was. Pink. Wet. Glinting with desire. Ready for me—open, soft, mine. I stilled, just looking, needing to know she belonged to me. I dragged my fingers through her heat. Slowly. Possessively. She jolted. I smiled. So sensitive. So perfect. I pushed two fingers inside her, deep, demanding, feeling her tight, hot clutch. Fuck.
She gasped, hips twitching as I worked inside her, feeling every tremor, every squeeze. My other hand slid to her ass, my finger circling the tight opening, pressing against the taut heat. I wanted her everywhere. I wanted to fill her, own her completely.
“I’m going to take you all night at the hotel,” I growled, “in every fucking hole until you know nothing but my name.”
“Damian,” she moaned, her voice breaking, hands clutching my shoulders. I pulled my finger from her ass and seized her cheeks, my grip digging deep into her flesh. With a hard yank, I pulled her to me, pressing her swollen, throbbing clit firmly against my lips and sucking greedily, as if I wanted to consume her. Fuck, she tasted like my fucking ruin. My ruin. My tongue lashed her, relentless, her sweetness flooding my mouth, dripping down my chin. I sucked harder, teeth grazing, and her raw, desperate scream drove me deeper into madness.
“Come for me, baby,” I growled against her. My fingers pushed back into her ass, curling until I hit that spot that made her shatter. She screamed my name, breaking apart as I sucked the orgasm out of her. Her body shook. I held her against my mouth, refusing to let go, not wasting a single drop.
