“Damien…” I dare to say the name. My tone is soft and low; submissive and begging. “Damien please. Make me come. I need you to come inside me. Fill me up. Fill me with you…I need it.”
Damien groans at my words, and his hips respond by thrusting in and out of me. Regardless of our fight for control, my stubbornness and his need to dominate me, our roles are overtaken by primal instinct. He wants to fuck me into another dimension, and I want to let him.
“Fuck!” I let out, knowing full well that everyone can hear me inside the building. Hell, I’d just about put money on it thateveryone outside of the building can hear me too. And right now, I genuinely don’t give a fuck. I just want tobefucked.
“Take it,” he grits out as his hips slam harder and harder into me.
“I am,” I whine, my vision growing whiter around the edges with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You feel so good,” he says, and the words are enough to send an explosion of elation through my body. I’m not used to praise, so I have to catch it in my memory and tuck it away any time it happens. “You’re so wet for me.”
“I am,” I tell him. “Only for you.”
“Yes,” he says, and I can feel the build-up as he drives harder and harder, and faster and faster into me until every cell in my body is racing towards ecstasy and the end of my composure until finally, achingly, we both cry out.
“Fuck!” he lets out, and I realize he wants to be heard. This is his world. His domain. His castle. He is the king and the beast, and he wants everyone to know it. Something about that makes this orgasm all the more powerful. He’s making it known that I am his and we cannot be separated. Contract or no contract.
Afterwards, he tucks himself back into his slacks as if nothing ever happened. Other than the sweat glimmering on his temples, he doesn’t look like he exerted himself at all. Me, on the other hand, I am a hot mess on the floor, and he walks over to the closet, grabs a satin robe that I was unaware was even in there, and tosses it at me.
“Clean yourself up,” he tells me, making his way to the door.
I scramble to my feet and pull the robe on.
“Anything you want me to wear tonight?” I ask as I tie it off.
“You can wear whatever you want when you’re not on the clock,” he says, and I blink.
“Aren’t we going out tonight?” I ask.
He stops and glances back at me, only momentarily. “No,” he answers before walking out the door and closing it behind him.
What the fuck just happened?
Chapter 22
Ellie
“Alright I don’t know if I’m sold on the trumpet dress,” Rachel pouts as she stares at the three-way mirror.
It’s Saturday, which means I don’t have to work, which is glorious considering the week I’ve had, and my weekend is going to be consumed by all things wedding. Honestly, I don’t mind the latter part. I feel pretty bad that my job has kept me so busy that I haven’t been more active in my only sister’s wedding planning, especially since I am the maid of honor.
“I feel like it doesn’t show off your figure well enough,” I tell her. One thing I have learned about having a sister like Rachel is that wording is everything.
“It makes you look like one of those ruffled tube socks that little girls wear,” Ashley, another bridesmaid, says flatly, and my sister deflates.
“Well, this was my first pick,” she says. “Now what am I going to do?”
When no one, including the shop girl, says anything, I stand up. “This is not a problem,” I tell her, taking her by the arm and guiding her off the platform. “You go back to the fitting room, and I will find you a couple more dresses.”
“One that makes me look less like a sock?” she mutters while shooting Ashley a look.
I smile and walk over to the racks, finding a couple that I know will look better than the trumpet. It really was a ridiculous dress. I know my sister well enough to fix the problem at hand, which makes me feel pretty good considering I’ve hardly done anything at all so far.
“This is a disaster,” she says as I step inside the curtain.
“No, it’s not,” I reassure her. “Look at these two dresses! I know one of them will be perfect for you.”
My sister is still frowning as I help her out of the dress and into the next one. It’s satin with an empire waistline and puffy sleeves. After I zip it up, I look at her from behind, smiling at her in the mirror.
