18. Fake Husband

Trigger Warning: Degradation

Daisy

     I'm grinning smugly as I wait for the elevator. I scroll through my calendar on my phone, glancing at the day's agenda of meetings. Today is all about the legitimate side of things-a slew of acquisitions that will bring Takumi Holdings' reach into Tokyo before Ken expands operations of the Takumi- Mori into the city.

So-business as usual, just the way I like it.

That's not the reason for my smug expression, though. That's all due to the memory of my escape last night.

It was a multi-step affair. First, I used the ropes Damon had just used on me to tie him to the hotel bed-carefully and quietly, without waking him. Then I grabbed some clothes and toiletries and headed to Kai's room.

It's not that I necessarily couldn't be around Damon. And the sex...I mean fuck.

That was good. Really good.

But it was the combination of his usual bossiness together with his demand that I climb into bed with him. My issues about being tied up go away with him, apparently. The sharing a bed ones don't.

Fuck you, past trauma. Fuck you, complexities of the psyche. Fuck you both very much.

The elevator dings open, and I step in to go meet Kai downstairs. I groan, making a note to be extra nice to him today. Not just because he gave me safe harbor from Hurricane Damon last night.

My mind flicks back to knocking on Kai's door, and to the startled, maybe even horrified look on his face when he opened it, clearly having been pulled away from... well, something.

I mean the man was shirtless, flushed, and disheveled.

He clearly wasn't exactly alone.

After stammering an apology, mortified, I'd started to back away. But he stopped me, his evident concern overriding any embarrassment on either side.

"Did he hurt you?" he'd growled, a protective edge entering his tone when he saw my bedraggled state.

I'd promised him it was nothing, that I was just looking for a little space away from Damon.

"Wait in the lobby," he'd said quietly. "Five minutes. I'll come get you."

Sure enough, he met me in the lobby mere minutes later and brought me back to his room, offering me the couch without another word. I spent the rest of the night curled up there, feeling guilty for cutting his evening with his lady friend short, but also smugly satisfied at having slipped away from 

Damon.

Two floors down, the elevator pauses as the doors open. I don't look up from my phone as someone steps in beside me. I hear them ask "going up or down?" in Japanese.

"Down," I murmur absently, focused on my calendar as the doors slide shut again.

Then a dangerous voice cuts through the silence. "How about we don't go anywhere?"

I freeze, my eyes snapping up. Damon stands in front of me, far too close, his gaze dark and intense.

Oh shit.

His hand slams out, jamming the emergency stop button, and the elevator jerks to a halt, trapping us. His hand wraps around my throat, pinning me against the wall as my eyes go wide.

"Well, well, well." His voice is a taunting drawl, his eyes predatory. "There's my fiancée."

I swallow, managing to force a sneering grin to my face. "Managed to wriggle free, I see."

Damon's eyes turn a violent shade of purple. 

My breath catches as I stare up at him, heart racing with both defiance and apprehension. The fire of my earlier triumph starts to fade, but I refuse to let him see it.

Instead, I force myself to smirk, throwing attitude back at him. "What's the matter, Damon? You don't like the taste of your own medicine?"

He leans in closer, his grip firm. "You don't seem to like playing by the rules." His voice is a dangerous whisper as his fingers trail along my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Not at all," I choke out. "I just don't like playing by your stupid rules."

The space between us hums with tension, charged with an intensity as dangerous as a lit fuse. His hand tightens around my throat.

"You think this is a fucking game, Daisy? Sneaking out right after we were attacked?" 

When he speaks again, his tone is volatile and unhinged. "Spending the night in fucking Kai's room?" he hisses quietly with a throbbing intensity that sends fear rippling up my spine. "I told you what would happen if you insisted on flirting with that motherfucker⁠-"

"Oh, my God, get over yourself!" I blurt, pushing his chest in an attempt to create distance.

Spoiler: it doesn't work.

"Kai's a friend, psycho!"

His gaze turns stony, his jaw grinding. "And I'm your damn husband."

"Fake husband" I shoot back, my cheeks flushing with irritation. "Let's not pretend this is anything more than it is." we're both getting something out of this arrangement anyway.

Something in his expression shifts, a flicker of anger tempered by a dangerous intensity.

Suddenly, he's kissing me.

Hard, and brutally.

He crushes his mouth to mine in a kiss that's fierce, demanding, and leaves no room for argument. His hand slips around the back of my neck, pulling me closer, pouring every ounce of his anger and frustration into the kiss, igniting something raw within me.

I try to push him away, but it's useless. His grip tightens, and instead of breaking free, I find myself surrendering to the force of it, melting against him. The tension I'd felt-the anger, the smug satisfaction-it all dissolves into a reckless, heady thrill that drowns out every logical thought.

His hand slides to my waist, pressing me harder to the wall, his body solid and unyielding, leaving me breathless. His kiss is an all-consuming, relentless storm and I'm caught in the eye of it, every ounce of control slipping from my grasp as he takes what he wants until I find myself wanting it, too.

I whimper as he shoves my skirt up and grabs my thigh, lifting it to his hip. My whimper escalates into a shriek as he lifts me off the floor and pins me against the wall, his mouth never leaving mine. My legs wrap around his muscled waist as he reaches between us and yanks his belt open. I moan as he hooks my panties with a finger, yanks them aside, and pushes the swollen head of his cock against my wet opening.

"If you're under the impression that you'll be going to a single fucking meeting, dinner, function, or anything else without my cum dripping out of at least one of your holes while we're in Tokyo playing this game..."

He bites down hard on the lobe of my ear.

"Let this be my way of telling you just how sadly mistaken you are."

He rams his swollen cock into me, forcing the air from my body and a cry from my lips. I moan, my arms winding around his neck and my fingers spearing his silvery hair as he starts to pound into me, wildly, recklessly.

Shit, he's so fucking big.

"You don't want to play the part of my wife?" he growls roughly into my neck before biting down on it and making me squeal, fucking me into the wall of the elevator. "Then you can play the part of my whore. We'll just tell everyone that you're here as my personal fuck toy."

I want to scream in his face that he can't talk to me like that. Call me things like that.

But unfortunately, when he does, much as I hate to admit it, it's one of the hottest things I've ever heard.

"Squeeze my fucking dick, princess," he groans, fucking into me hard and fast, the wet sounds of my pussy clinging to his cock filling the elevator. "Squeeze it like you're desperate for that cum to fill your tight little pussy up again. That's what you'll be, Daisy. My little cum slut. My concubine."

His cock plunges into me over and over, driving me wild as he hits places inside me I've never felt before and grinds against my clit with every thrust. I cling to him for dear life, taking his cock over and over as he nails me against the wall of the elevator.

I bite down on my lip to stop from screaming as the orgasm begins to build inside me, not wanting him to know. As if coming is giving in, conceding this battle of wills.

Damon just chuckles as he leans down and bites my nipple through my blouse and bra. The sensation is electric, snapping my spine rigid as a cry erupts from my throat.

"Yes... Be a good little fuck toy and make a mess on my cock, baby. Make a mess of me so I can make a fucking mess of you."

He bites down again on my nipple as he thrusts deep. It's too much. I cry out, my body wrenching and spasming as the orgasm detonates through me. My thighs squeeze around his hips, my walls clenching and rippling around his swollen cock as I come all over him.

With a grunt, Damon grips my ass tightly and buries himself inside me. I whimper as I feel him pulse and jerk, his hot cum spilling into me as I cling to him.

Fuck.

When he pulls back, I'm gasping for air, my cheeks flushed, my heart pounding wildly. Slowly, Damon slips out, pulling my panties back into place with a smirk.

Instantly, I can feel his cum leaking into them.

How lovely.

I open my mouth to speak, but his gaze pins me in place. "Still feel fake?" he murmurs, his voice laced with dark satisfaction.

Damon pushes the emergency button, and the elevator begins to descend again as we both straighten ourselves up.

The doors slide open to the hotel lobby, where a frowning Kai shoots me a worried look and glares at Damon's back. I try to push past him, but Damon grabs my arm, sending a bolt of lightning sizzling through me as he leans down to my ear.

"Enjoy your meetings, My wife. When you're sitting there trying to make deals with my cum seeping out of your pussy and into your panties all morning, I want you to remember something."

Heat floods my face as my eyes dart to his. 

"W-What," I mutter quietly. I can't help the stutter that leaves my mouth as I struggle to catch my breath and talk too.

"You're mine."