Rightfully so.
Emery frowns, sighing. “I just… I just want you to be happy.”
See? I’m already doing it. I’m already dimming her fucking light. Just by existing. Just by being around her. I’m sucking the joy out of her. I can see it. I can feel it.
Why doesn’t she just let me go? She was right to leave me before. I understand that now that I have all the facts. How can she love someone like me? I’m not a good person. I’m not good for her. I’m not good for anyone.
Her frown deepens as her question goes unanswered for a second too long. “You’re not happy…are you?” She averts her gaze, shoulders slumping as she rests against the headboard. “I’m sorry, Damon. I’m sorry that I told you…” Her jaw tenses. “It’s my fault. I should’ve just stayed away.”
Her unfounded guilt makes me want to punch a fucking hole through the wall. She’s sorry?She’ssorry? What the fuck is she sorry for? How twisted. How sick.Why is she apologizing to me? Her fault? She thinks this is all her fault? I want to laugh. I want to scream. I want to shake her so violently that all those ridiculous thoughts escape from her beautiful mind.
“Emery, stop.” I place a hand on her fidgeting fingers. “Just stop.”
She glances at me, her eyes glossy. And now I’ve gone and made her cry. Fucking fantastic. If Quinton were here right now and not on some fucking business trip, he’d deck me right in the face for making her lips tremble like that.
“I just…” She sucks in a shaky breath. “I hate seeing you like this, Damon.” She swallows, fixing her messy hair. “I-I’m going back to work today. I’m worried that…” She trails off, not needing to finish her thought. That’s not a solution. “Will you be okay alone?”
I understand her concerns. Three weeks ago, my behavior was erratic. Unhinged. I can still feel that barrel pressed against my temple.
“I’ve signed up for an art class,” I say, setting a mental reminder to sign up for a fucking art class. “I’ll be fine.”
“Really?” Emery beams. Literally beams. Light shoots out of her, and for a moment, I feel her joy.
“Really.”
My lips stretch into a wide smile. A real smile. Because how can I fake being happy when she’s looking at me like that? Like I’ve just cured every rare disease in the world. God, I wish I could see what she sees. Maybe that would help. Maybe then, I’d deserve her.
I lift my hand and rake my fingers through her hair, tugging on the roots, pulling her closer to me. My forehead rests against hers, my breath fanning against her parted lips.
“And Iamhappy, Emery. I get to wake up every fucking day and look at you. Hold you. Kiss you. Touch you.”
Emery squirms, and heat radiates from her naked body as she sidles closer to me under the sheets, her impatient hands gliding up and down my thigh, inching closer to my growing erection.
“So touch me, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she coos, undulating her pussy against my hip. “Show me just how happy I make you.”
Maybe I don’t need a shrink. Maybe Emery can be my therapist. My cure. Maybe in time, she’ll fuck the demons right out of me. Or she’ll silence them.
Preferably forever.
THE PEACOCK
EMERY
Damon’s eyesdarken as I straddle him, grinding against his hard, thick erection. His large, warm hands palm my breasts, massaging them, my nipples helpless under his calculated ministrations. I throw my head back and moan, my pussy gliding up and down the length of his cock, getting it all nice and wet.
He needs this. He needs to be touched and used and fucked. It gives him purpose. Meaning. I can tell that he’s drowning. That he’s one nightmare away from total destruction. I’ve tried to soothe him with my words, with whispers of absolution, but it all falls on deaf ears. This. This is what I can do to help him. Make him forget. Make him feel unbridled ecstasy.
If he’s going to drown, it might as well be inside me.
“Fuck, Emery, you’re so goddamn wet…” Damon’s groans are fucking intoxicating. I love when he talks to me. It’s enough to make me come right here and now. With a guttural hiss, he snakes his hand around the nape of my neck and tugs forward. “C’mere.”
His lips crash against mine, urgent and raw, as he takes control, the tip of his cock teasing my sex. His hand circles my neck and clamps down on the base of my throat. He surges upward, oxygen escaping my lungs in a primal moan as he thrustssofucking deep inside me that I see stars.
“You feel so fucking good, Emery,” he growls against my lips, his tongue battling with my own as he rocks his hips in a chaotically fast rhythm. I can’t respond. I can’t utter a word as he chokes me in the most beautiful way. I gasp and struggle for breath, and my head grows lighter, just the perfect amount of deprivation to make his cock feel twice as long, twice as thick, twice as unyielding. “Look at that pretty little face, mami. So fucking pink.”
“Oh God… Damon…” I cry out, my core clenching, my back arching into a deep curve as I try to sink deeper into him, my hips grinding and rolling and devouring every single delicious inch of him. “Harder! Harder, baby. I?—”
“Always so greedy,” he rasps, releasing my throat and slinking his hands around my waist, effortlessly flipping me over and caging me beneath him. Those decadent brown eyes sweep across my flushed and needy body as he spreads my thigh, his fingers digging into my delicate skin. “Touch yourself, mami. Play with that swollen little clit of yours.” My mouth gapes open,my spine arching as I rub myself in frantic circles. Damon leans against his ankles, bucking his hips, and I swear his cock rearranges my fucking organs as he pounds inside of me. My walls clench and cry at his merciless assaults, and I moan his name, toes curling, legs shaking. “Say it again, Emery. Scream my fucking name.”
