I know he’ll find me here in an instant. Good.
Four… three… two…
I run to the library, where I crouch behind one of the small bookshelves that forms the nook, breathing in the comforting scent of old books.
One.
“Found you, my pet,” says a fond voice. “You can’t hide from me.”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper.
He bends down, folding me in his arms, picking me up effortlessly. In spite of his promised punishment, he’s very gentle with me. My wounds are not entirely healed, and I miss the roughness, the pain he once inflicted on me, but this side of him is special, too. I wish I could have both sides of him. Maybe one day I can.
I breathe him in, the pressure already building within me in anticipation. He carries me to a large table on one side of the room and sits me down upon it, his arousal pressing against me.
Then his cell phone rings.
“Motherfucker,” he grunts.
He shuts off the ringer and leans in to kiss me violently, biting at my lower lip, slipping his tongue in my mouth and exploring it hungrily. He pins my arms behind me with one hand, and with the other, he unzips the back of my dress and lets it fall around mywaist, then lifts me up slightly so it tumbles to the floor.
His eyes take in my scars, a look of sadness flitting through them, before it’s crowded aside by darkness. A darkness that makes me shiver, because even now I can’t really tell what it is. Lust? Anger? A mix of both?
In the next second I breathe easier as he once more crushes his lips to mine, and I know that if he does feel anger, at least it’s not directed at me.
The hand that isn’t pinning my arms back now slides to my chest, cupping each breast in turn. He gazes at them for a moment before burying his face between them, breathing me in. Then he closes his mouth around one nipple and I inhale, remembering how he once liked to torture them between his fingers. It’s been a while since he’s done that, and I find myself whimpering, wishing he’d hurt me again. Just a little.
He smiles, seeming to read my thoughts. He flicks my nipple with his tongue, and it stiffens as I moan. He puts it back in his mouth, sucking gently on it, and just as I’ve relaxed in his arms, giving myself over to the pleasurable sensation, he closes his teeth on it. Hard.
I yelp in pain, but he doesn’t let up, and the more I wriggle, the more it hurts, my nipple tugging helplessly against his teeth. Meanwhile, he reaches up to my other nipple and twists it in his fingers, the delicious torture making me uncomfortably wet.
At last, he withdraws his teeth, and licks over the hurt, his tongue soothing the burn and causing that pressure in my stomach to build more.
He works his way down, nipping and sucking, his hand resting reverently on my stomach. Then he pushes me gently onto the table, one hand still imprisoning my wrists. He knows I won’t struggle, not anymore, but I can tell he likes being in control. I like it too.
I close my eyes, drinking in his touch as his other hand lets go of my nipple and drags gently down over the places that his mouth has bruised. There’s a loud ripping noise and he tosses aside my panties. Then, he nudges my thighs open and pushes my legs up, groping my bottom as his mouth finds my already-soaked pussy.
I gasp as a tingle of pleasure rises in my stomach, but just then, his phone rings again.
He growls a string of expletives, pulls his phone from his back pocket and answers, his mouth still against my folds.
“Yeah?” he grunts, his breath tickling my clit. “Not now. I’m busy.” He laps at me and I can’t suppress the loud moan that escapes me. He smirks as I hide my burning face behind my hands, while he continues to listen to the voice on the other end of the line.
“I told you not to bother me if it’s not important,” he growls, then flits a tongue up my pussy, searching for the little spot that makes me crazy. This time I’m ready, and manage to bite down on my moan, steadying my breath as sparks travel up to my stomach.
“Fine, it’s important,” he concedes, withdrawing his tongue from me and replacing it with a curled finger. “But not more important than what I’m doing now.” He pumps his finger in and out, making a loud, wet sound that makes me feel like I’m going to die of shame. But as each of his thrusts meets that special spongy spot, my embarrassment is soon replaced by overwhelming need. I start to twist around helplessly on the table, feeling an awful lot like a fish on a hook, while he continues to work my drenched pussy. Then, just as the pressure builds to an intolerable high, and I can feel the wave of pleasure about to break over me, he withdraws hisfinger in a sick, suction sound, and I hear a bark of laughter on the other side of the line.
Of course, it’s Logan. Ofcourse.
“Give me an hour,” says Damien, licking my arousal off his finger. “Not one minute less.”
Then he hangs up, and faces me. “Ready for your punishment, my pet?”
I shiver and he lifts me up so that I’m straddling him. He carries me like that to the bedroom. Then he sets me down on the bed, a lot more gently than I’d like, but I know he’s mindful of my stitches.
He crouches once more between my thighs and gives me a single lick that sends me right back to that place where I can feel the orgasm hovering, just out of reach. Just one more lick… please…
But he takes a step back, gazing at me with an evil glint in his eye as I writhe on the sheets in frustration.
