“No,” I whisper, my apologetic gaze floating to Damon. “I’m not but…”
Damon’s expression flattens once again. God, it nearly kills me. “Then I don’t see the point. I wouldn’t want tointrudeon a family dinner.”
I sigh, guilt settling in the pit of my stomach. “I want them to meet you. I do, Damon. But I…” I rub my hands together, my body visibly shrinking under his gaze. “I can’t tell them about us. About the three of us. I…” My gaze flits between Quin and Damon. “My parents… They won’t understand. They’re conservative and old and?—”
“It’s fine,” Damon snaps, turning on his heel and storming away.
I glance at Quin, and he gives me a nod as he silently encourages me to follow Damon upstairs. I chase after him, calling out to him, but he doesn’t stop. I pick up my pace.
“Damon! Please, come on!”
Damon marches into the bedroom, raking both hands through his hair, and then he spins around. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Damon, I am. I wish it wasn’t like this. I?—”
“But it is, isn’t it?” Damon shakes his head. “It’s how it’s always going to be, right?” He perches on the edge of the bed and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not angry with you, Emery. I’m not. It’s just…”
I sit down beside him, placing my hand on his lap. “It’s not fair.”
He glances briefly at me. “Life isn’t fair. You’re the one who taught me that, remember?”
I swallow. It’s not fair, but it’s the reality we’re faced with. I wish things could be different, that we could be open about our relationship without fear of judgment or rejection. But that’s not our reality, and I don't know if it ever will be.
“I know,” I say softly, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I’m causing him pain. “I just wish...” My voice trails off as I struggle to find the right words to express the turmoil churning inside me.
To be in love is a wonderful thing. It’s pure and whole and full of bliss. And to be in love with two souls? Two distinct forces of nature, one that lights fire to my soul, one that calms the flames, well, that’s simply earth-shattering. And that’s the problem. Our love transcends earthly knowledge and beliefs. What we have is something ethereal. Out of this world. Our love belongs on a different plane, a different universe, and how I wish we could escape to a land that was just our own. No cameras. No prying eyes. No nosy ears. Just us. Until the end of time.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I look into his broken gaze. “I’m sorry, Damon. I’m…” My voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make it so that?—”
“Just love me,” Damon whispers hoarsely, unable to look at me. “I-I’m used to being loved in the dark.”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, my heart pounding in my chest as I search for the right words toconvey the depth of my feelings for him. He needs to know just how much he means to me, how his existence has irrevocably changed my life.
"Damon," I whisper, my voice trembling. "I do love you. You're not just a part of me. You're…you’re woven into the very fabric of my being."
Damon swallows. “I am?”
“Yes.”
They both are.
Tentatively, I shift my weight, straddling Damon's lap as I lean down to place soft kisses along his jawline. My lips brush against the shell of his ear as I whisper words of affirmation, repeating "I love you" like a sacred mantra. His breath hitches in his throat, a low groan escaping his lips as I nibble at his neck.
“Emery,” he rasps, raking his fingers through my hair as he tugs on my roots.
Our eyes meet for only a second, the thick fog in the room lifting, making way for lava and heat as his lips crash against mine, urgent and raw and beautifully sinful.
I gasp into his lungs, my own drained of air as I push him down. He slithers backward on the bed, the sheets crunching beneath our wild and frantic breaths. Our tongues clash and battle for sweet victory as our hands, our clumsy fucking hands, fight against fabric and clasps and zippers until there’s nothing but flesh between us.
With a primal growl, Damon flips us over, pinning me beneath him as he claims my lips, and tastes everyinch of my skin, my breasts, my stiff, needy nipples. Our bodies grind together in a fevered frenzy. But I need more. I want more. More friction. More pressure. More of him. More of me.
Damon's cock presses against my sex, sending bursts of electricity through my veins. I gasp at the sensation, my nails digging into his back as I arch against him, desperate for more. Always more.
"This pussy is mine," Damon growls, his voice rough with desire as he thrusts into me. His tongue laves against my neck. “This.” His pace quickens, my core hot and clenching. “Pussy.” His cock is unyielding, nearly destructive as he pounds into me, no restraint, no control, just pure primal instinct. “Is.” He’s so deep. So fucking deep I could cry. Or scream. Or both. “Mine.”
I moan his name, my body pulsing with pleasure as he hammers the last nail in my coffin. As the waves of pleasure wash over us, Damon collapses onto me, our bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. We cling to each other, breathless and sated.
For a few precious minutes, we remain in each other's arms, comfortable and safe.
