The Balcony

Isabella's POV 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Isabella." 

His voice was smooth and professional. He extended a hand with a smile on his face.

I forced my hand into his. His grip was firm, warm, and I hated that my body remembered it instantly.

"Likewise." I said through gritted teeth.

Mom didn't notice. She was too busy smiling, her hand on his arm like she needed to touch him to believe he was real.

"I've been dying for you two to meet. Damian's been so patient, waiting for you to come home."

"I'm sure he has." I pulled my hand back, shoved it in my pocket so he wouldn't see it trembling.

His eyes stayed on mine a second too long. I saw the calculation there. This wasn't what he was expecting.

"Your mother speaks very highly of you," he said. "Journalism student, correct?"

"That's right."

"Ambitious. I admire that."

I wanted to throw something at his head. Preferably something heavy.

Mom clapped her hands together like we were all old friends. "Oh! I almost forgot. Cole is coming tomorrow for lunch. You'll finally get to meet him."

"Cole?"

"Daniella's son. My best friend, remember? The guy I wanted you to meet " She gave me a meaningful look. "I think you two will really hit it off."

"Mom….."

"Just lunch, sweetheart. No pressure. He's a lovely young man. Very polite, very successful. And handsome!”

"I should go unpack," I said, already heading toward the stairs. "I'm tired"

"Of course! Your room is the third door on the right ." Mom said and kissed my cheek. "We'll have dinner in an hour. Wear something nice."

I practically ran.

***********

My room was huge and tastefully designed. 

I locked myself in the bathroom and gripped the sink until my knuckles went white.

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. Any second now I'd wake up in my shitty apartment and realize this was just some fucked up anxiety dream.

But I could still feel his hand in mine, could still see the way he'd looked at me. Like I was going to be his downfall.

My stepfather.

I'd fucked my stepfather.

I took the longest shower of my life, changed into jeans and a sweater that covered everything. I braided my hair and did everything I could to look as unsexy as possible.

It didn't matter. At dinner, I felt his eyes on me. Every time Mom turned away, he was watching me in a way anyone else would notice.

But I noticed.

And my body noticed too.

****************

I couldn't sleep.

I'd tried everything but nothing worked, all I could think about was the fact that Damian was with my mom, doing to her what he'd done to me.

The thought made me want to vomit.

I gave up around midnight and slipped out onto the balcony. The air was cooler, which helped clear my head. The pool glowed blue in the darkness below me 

I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes.

"Can't sleep?"

I spun around so fast I almost tripped.

Damian stood a few metres away from me. He was in pajama pants and nothing else, and I hated that my eyes went straight to his chest, to his muscles and abs.

"Please leave."

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. You're married to my mother. That's the end of this conversation."

He stepped closer anyway . "I didn't know."

"I don't care."

"I didn't know you were her daughter, Isabella." He moved closer, and I backed up until I hit the railing. "I never asked for your last name. You never told me. Hell I didn't even know you"

“Noted. Whatever happened that night was a mistake”

"Was it?" 

He was right in front of me now, close enough that I could smell him. He still had the same scent and cologne,  "Because your body doesn't seem to think so."

"Fuck you."

"You already did."

I shoved him. Hard. He barely moved.

"You need to leave. Now. Before I scream and wake up Mom."

"Then scream. Let her hear you. Let her know what you let me do to you."

"You're insane."

"Maybe." He replied with his mouth inches away from mine. "But you're just as crazy. Because you want this. Even now, despite knowing who I am"

"No—"

He kissed me.

I should've bitten him. I  should've done literally anything except kiss him back.

But I did.

It was angry, desperate and wrong on every level, and I couldn't stop. His tongue was in my mouth and his body was pressed against mine and I was already reaching for him, pulling him closer.

He broke away first, breathing hard. "Tell me to stop."

"I hate you." I breathed.

"That's not what I asked."

I couldn't say it. The words wouldn't come. Instead, I grabbed his face and kissed him again, and this time he made a sound low in his throat that made my inner thighs shake.

He lifted me onto the balcony table, shoving my legs apart. His hands went to the waistband of my shorts.

"Tell me no, Isabella. Tell me to leave you alone."

"Shut up."

He yanked my shorts down, and I barely had time to register the cool air before his mouth was on me.

I choked on a gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. 

He worked with his tongue, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. Like we weren't on the balcony where anyone could see. Like my mother wasn’t sleeping in a room a couple of metres away from us.

"Oh god…" I bit my lips trying to stay quiet.

He pulled back just enough to speak. "Careful, doll. You'll wake your mother."

Then he dove back in, and I had to press both hands over my mouth to keep myself from crying out.

He was relentless. Licking and sucking until my thighs were shaking, until I was grinding against his face and whimpering into my hands. 

"That's it," he murmured. "Give it to me. Show me how much you hate me."

I was so close. So desperately close and his tongue was working my clit in a rhythm that was going to kill me.

"Damian…" His name escaped before I could stop it.

"Quiet." But his voice sounded pleased. 

My orgasm hit like a train. I clamped my hand harder over my mouth, my whole body convulsing as he licked me through it. He didn't stop until I was pushing at his head, too sensitive to take anymore.

He stood up slowly, locking eyes with mine.

"This changes nothing," I said, my voice shaking.

"Does it?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.