“Fuck. I need you so bad,” he grunts, his cock hard against my legs.
I arch toward him, desperate desire making all the rest fade. The pain, the doubt, the betrayal.
He tears himself away from me, chuckling again. “Not now, pet. You need to get better first. But you’re already on your way.” He slides a hand down on my stomach and I sigh beneath the soothing warmth of his touch. “You’ve had a blood transfusion, you’re all patched up, and you’re going to be on your feet again soon.” He leans into my ear and his hot breath makes me shiver with need. “You’d better be. That’s an order.”
I nod, and he seems to find the seriousness of my expression humorous. “I want you to relax,” he whispers. “You’re safe with me. Do you understand that?”
I hesitate, and he gazes down at me, the humor in his eyes softening. “Listen to me, my pet. I don’t want you to worry your little head about a thing. But you do need to know that you’re safe. Vale is dead, and the rest of us know you’re innocent. He’s the one who stole the nanochip, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. He’s been fucking with us for the past year. He’s been working with Angel to take us down. They planned the Cole murders, knowing that the death of the entire family would get a whole lot of people invested. Then they set up the nanochip handover with the idea of siccing the Feds onto us. You weren’t supposed to be involved, but you were in the right place at the right time, and he decided you were the perfect scapegoat. He was going to let you take the fall. The nanochip never actually left Angel’s hands, but he planted it in your things after Angel took you. It’s thanks to you that we discovered Vale’s betrayal. So, you’re not responsible for the death of a childhood friend. You’re responsible for the death of a traitor, and you’ve saved Devil.”
I hang onto his words with baited breath, my eyes growing wide as the puzzle is at last pieced together. But mostly, I drink in his reassurances.You’re safe. We know you’re innocent. You’ve saved Devil.
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by it all.
“Go to sleep, my pet,” he murmurs, his hand once again stroking my hair.
“Are you… are you going to stay with me?” I breathe.
“Always.”
-
Six months later.
There’s a knock on the door, and my eyes fly open. The clock at the bedside reads 8:15, and I spring up guiltily, realizing I’ve overslept. That’s going to earn me a punishment, but the thought doesn’t fill me with dread anymore. Only with desire.
I’ve come to understand that dark, hungry look in his eyes. To yearn for it. To feel safe in the arms of the man who once caused me to spiral. It’s taken me a few months to accept his explanations, his apologies, but at last I believe him when he says I’m his. Whenhe promises that he’ll never let me go.
The door opens onto Damien holding a breakfast tray. There are waffles, strawberries and whipped cream, but my eyes stay glued to the cup of coffee, topped with a thick layer of foam on which cinnamon and chocolate have been sprinkled liberally. I know it’s called a cappuccino, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. I may have been living at Damien’s apartment for the past six months, surrounded by unfathomable luxury, but I guess I’m still an Oakley girl at heart.
He puts the breakfast tray on the bed, looking at me with a little smirk.
“Still in bed, are we?” he purrs, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “Looks like I’m going to have to punish you.”
I stare longingly at the coffee. My captivity, followed by these months of happiness with Damien, have led to my becoming addicted to it. I’d never really drank coffee before, but now, I can feel my temples start to ache with the first signs of withdrawal.
“I’ll go easy on you this time,” he smiles, kissing my forehead. “You can have your coffee, but then, watch out.”
My stomach clenches at the threat, and I’m already regretting his leniency. I want him now. I gulp down the coffee so fast that some foam gets on my lip. Then I close my eyes as the pain recedes from my temples.
“You’ve got a moustache,” he chuckles, leaning in and licking it away. Then his eyes grow dark as he pushes the breakfast tray to the side. “Alright, my pet. Let’s play a game. Hide-and-seek. You’ll hide and I’ll seek. You’ve got exactly ten seconds.”
I jump up, my heart still hammering almost as hard as it used to. I feel safe now, perfectly safe, but he still has a way of making my heart race, of causing goosebumps to pebble on my skin. I can’tget used to giving over control to someone else, but he doesn’t give me a choice.
Ten… nine… eight…
The countdown begins, startling me out of my thoughts. I quickly close the door to the bedroom and look around. I once thought the apartment of my captivity was luxurious, but this is something else. Damien’s got the whole tenth floor, and I’m standing in the middle of a long hallway that leads to a number of bedrooms and offices. We only use one bedroom, though, and he prefers his office on the eleventh floor.
Just this hallway is positively decadent, lined with artwork. I can thank my boredom during my captivity for making me read pretty much every magazine and book I found, because I recognize many of them. Andy Warhol. Frida Kahlo. Georgia O’Keeffe. Louise Bourgeois. There’s even an ugly little neon statue on a stand that looks like a blown-up balloon, which I know was made by Jeff Kloons. I really hate modern art, but I have to say it looks good in this sleek, fancy apartment.
I open the large double doors that lead to the massive living room, its plush couches surrounding a stone fireplace in the middle of the room. It’s got a wrap-around balcony that’s nearly the size of the apartment. I blush as I recall our first game of hide-and-seek, when I hid out on the fourth-floor balcony. I learned my lesson, then. No more hiding on balconies.
Seven… six… five…
I come to a standstill in the middle of the living room, hesitating. One thick wooden door will lead me to a long dining room while the other will bring me to a library stocked with thick leather books, but also to a small nook dedicated to my Peter Pan obsession. He never said a word about it, but by the time I was ableto get up, the mural was finished, and the faint scent of fresh paint told me it was a recent addition. It’s a gorgeous painting of a night sky with stars twinkling.
Second to the right, and straight on till morning.
Two children are flying in the sky, silhouettes that I can barely make out. I like to imagine the first one is Damien, and the one trailing just behind is me.
