His legs near the bed end, a smirk playing on his lips making a curve, it isn’t just scary, it’s like a punch to the guts that steals everything and the breath in my lungs.
He knows exactly how much it’s messing with me, and the worst part is that his eyes are like glass with no emotions behind them at all just a sitting hatred.
It send a fresh wave of fear washing over me.
I grip the bed, the velvet suddenly feeling too soft way too luxurious for this whole messed up situation.
My knuckles feel so white, I don’t need to look with my breath feeling stuck, like there isn’t enough air in this room.
The play knife is glinting in his hand like a promise of something terrible about to happen, I can see his pants been stretched tight, his crotch growing harder, my eyes widens but darts away before he catches them but I can see see it in my head.
His goes back alittle looking like he was studying me, I just stayed there like a statue while I stared, shaking within, I know I’m doomed but maybe a little hope.
He isn’t going to do this, I had to tell myself, I’m his sister, not something he would ever think of maybe all of this is just to play with me.
My heart is pounding so hard making me feel like it might leap out of my chest and back on the bed, the white bedsheet, a stain atleast.
He puts his hand as he drags me forward and then the play knife practically breathing against the delicate lace of my garter.
god, I can’t move even if my life depends on it, cuffed like some kind of offering.
His eyes are so dark that they look bottomless as they just stare into mine, like he’s looking right through me, seeing all the fear and maybe even what I’m trying to hide, all of this for my mother.
The thought of how she feels currently and if the situation of things had gotten to her makes the air feel heavy, making my head beat and I could feel the hot tears about to pour out.
He doesn’t say a damn thing, but the aair in the room still feels same. That heavy electric feeling that anything can happen right now and right here.
And probably will.
The tip of the play knife just barely touches the lace of what I’m wearing and I swear I feel a tiny thread snap, right along with my last nerve.
His other hand, the one not holding anything reaches out as his finger, just the very tips at first trails lightly along the inside of my thighs, just above the lace.
It is like a jolt of pure voltage.
The touch.
Wrong, so wrong sending shivers down my spine but…my skin still prickles, alive and way too aware.
I try to shift to pull away even an inch, but the damn cuff holds me firm, a reminder of who is calling the shots in this fucked up game.
“You’re mine now” his voice like a growl as it vibrates right through me, making my skin crawl as I try shifting back, Atleast he wasn’t ing gagging me or putting the tape on me yet. “Everything you see?”
His finger trace a slow deliberate line higher up my thighs, sending a fresh wave of heat rushing through me as my face starts changing, a shameful response I can’t control.
“Mine” he leans further “everything you touch?” He pauses, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fleeting second, a hint of something unreadable in his dark eyes.
“Mine. Everything you think…” his finger slides a little higher, closer to where I don’t want them to go, but also that confusing pull is there.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, making the tiny hair there stand on end.
“You look where I say” his voice is a rumble all possessive and absolute with nothing for me to say, I stay put, trying to decipher every word and action.
“You go where I allow you to go, what I want you to be dressed and and nowhere else” and then his tongue, a quick hot flick traces the line of my jaw sending this shove all the way down to my toes, and his hand, higher now with those fingers teasing dangerously close.
My eyes closing to the feel of it, at the same time my heart skips.
He pulls back just a fraction, the play knife still there as a constant silent threat.
He dips his finger into the small box pick a cube, fixing one between his teeth, his eyes never leaving mine, the ice cube so clear.
It looks so out of place, all pure and cold in this red hell.
Slowly as he’ll be drags it down my leg, right over that super sensitive skin on my inner thighs where his finger have just been.
It is like a shock, a jolt that makes me gasp my breathing hooking in my throat, my nipples becoming so tight they ache.
The throb down there appears again, stronger than earlier today, a messed up confusing mix of fear and raw undeniable desire not for him.
Something that makes me hate myself a little, seeing how much my body is responding to every bit of what’s happening.
“Dam..ien” his name like a hot tea at the back of my throat as I move shaking. He shoots a dark stare at me like I just distracted what he was doing.
“You speak when I say you can” the ice still held firmly between his teeth, his word slightly slurred but still perfectly understandable.
He drops the ice on my pant as he the melting water off his lips, his dark eyes holding mine captive, like i am the only thing in this damn room.
The he leans down again, and his tongue trails a slow deliberate line up my calf as the ice melts further, the water soaking and dripping in.
It feels so wrong and yet my skin is alive with every nerve ending screaming.
DAMIEN ..Her touch was light, sending shivers down my spine, reigniting the fire.My shirt fell open, then off, pooling at my feet.She reached for the buckle of my belt. Her fingers worked the leather, the metal, my pants slid down and I kicked them away.Standing there in just my briefs, then stripping those off too, my cock hard and throbbing, aching for her, to feel her body against mine, to hear her voice.She looked at my body, her eyes trailing down my chest, my abdomen and then reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of my muscles, the faint scars I carried.Then her hands moved lower, finding me, the feel of her touch soft, exploring, igniting every nerve ending.She cupped me, her fingers wrapping around me, a slow, deliberate touch that made me groan, a raw sound pulled from my gut.She smiled then, a slow, deep smile of pure desire, her eyes still locked on mine.“You’re perfect, Damien.”My hands found her, tracing the curve of her waist, the delicate lace of her g
DAMIEN ..The suite was silent when I entered.Dark.Just a few lamps on, casting pools of soft light, I knew she was here and my heart leaped, a flicker of desperate hope. She hadn't left London.She was here.I found her in the main living area.The lights were off except for the soft glow from the city outside the windows, she was sitting on the sofa, curled up, her perfect emerald green dress gone, replaced by a silk robe and a glass of red wine in her hand.Her hair was packed up, tied back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, exposing the elegant line of her throat.She looked fragile. Beautifully broken.Her body language radiating sadness and withdrawal.She looked up as I entered the room, her eyes, dark in the dim light, fixing on mine. No smile.Just a deep, silent stare that pierced right through me, it showed that she had some much questions and it had a profound sadness and judgment in them.I walked into the room, slowly, needing to explain, “Elena,” I said, m
DAMIEN ..The air hit me, cool and damp, as I stepped out a side door, into a narrow alleyway behind the gallery.The two men followed, their thin smiles gone, replaced by a cold look while Clever and my men fell into position, silent, ready.This wasn’t a brawl.This was business.My business.Dirty, brutal, efficient.I moved first, a calculated strike to the gut of the scar-faced one, doubling him over with a grunt. The other came at me, fast, a knife appearing in his hand, the glint of steel in the dim light.I blocked, sidestepped, the movements fluid, and practiced. It boiled down to knowing how to break a man with your bare hands, how to end a fight before it became a spectacle. My pride demanded it. No messy gun play on foreign soil unless absolutely necessary.Just control. Efficient, brutal control that left no trace on my suit, only on their bodies. A man in a crisp suit, probably someone leaving the exhibition for a smoke, rounded the corner of the alley just as I slam
DAMIEN ..I saw the question, the confusion, perhaps even a flicker of hurt in Elena’s eyes as I curtly dismissed her innocent curiosity about the painting.But the wall was up and slammed shut because doors just couldn’t be opened, not even for her.We left the penthouse shortly after, the silence in the car a different feeling to the easy conversation we usually shared.London. Business called, opportunities to expand the reach of the empire, to solidify the legitimate fronts. A chance to step further away from the shadows, maybe and a chance to have her with me, in a different city.The flight was long, a blur of hushed luxury and my own internal tension.She sensed it, of course, her hand finding mine, a quiet comfort offered without demand, a soft brush of her fingers against mine that spoke volumes in the shared silence.London welcomed us with a cool, grey embrace, our accommodation was a suite high above the city, all sleek lines and panoramic views, a different kind of op
DAMIEN ..She showed her affection freely, a touch on my arm, a hand on my cheek, a quiet word just for me in a crowded room. She wasn't afraid to show she cared.The word still felt alien, terrifying, hopeful, all at once, but seeing her, feeling her affection, being loved by her it was pulling me back from the brink.She asked questions about my life while we went through the normal days and she had also said she wanted to visit me in my office which I barely go to.“How did you build all this, Damien?” she asked one night, gesturing around the penthouse with a sweep of her hand, taking in the silent luxury.“This empire? It’s intimidating.” I hesitated.How much could I tell her?How much did she want to know about the shadows that allowed all this to exist?How much darkness could her light tolerate?“It was complicated,” I said finally, choosing my words carefully.“Took a lot of work. A lot of difficult decisions.” I met her gaze, letting her see just a sliver of the truth.“
DAMIEN .. Asking her out felt like a monumental task. Me, Damien, the man who gave orders, who took what he wanted. Asking. It felt unfamiliar. I even went to Clever, and it actually felt absurd, seeking dating advice from the man who probably managed my social calendar better than I ever could.I called him to the penthouse one afternoon, after Elena had left. He arrived, prompt and quiet, a stack of files under his arm. Clever walked in while the sound of his footsteps was so quiet and in a more diligent way than anyone else, a man who moved with a purpose I barely possessed anymore.“Clever,” I started, the words feeling clumsy, awkward, scraping against my tongue. “Hypothetically.”He paused, looked at me with that calm, knowing expression that always made me wonder exactly how much he saw. “Hypothetically, Damien?”We’ve grown so close these past period and it feels different, having someone close, something I’ve never done from when I was little. “If you were… you kno
DAMIEN ..I walked towards her, the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon pulling me closer, the disbelief from the night before slowly giving way to a wary curiosity.I sat on the stool she indicated, watching her move with an easy grace, gathering her own plate.She sat beside me, ans for some reason the silence wasn’t empty.It was just quiet.“You made all this?” I asked, my voice rough, still waking up from the deepest sleep I’d had in a long time.She laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine.“Guilty,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling.“Someone had to feed the sleepy billionaire.” She grinned, a teasing glint in her eyes that disarmed something tight in my chest.“Hope it’s okay.”“It’s yeah. It’s good.” I took a bite, the simple flavors a revelation, it felt so nice eating something nice after a long time of nothing.Real food.Made by someone else.Made by her.We ate for a while, the silence punctuated by the gentle clinking of silverware and then, she set down her fork, tu
DAMIEN ..My mouth found a nipple, drawing it in, tasting her. Sweet, warm while her moan intensified, a choked cry of pleasure.I suckled, gently at first, then with more insistence, feeling her body tense and arch beneath me.Her fingers tangled in my hair, holding me close.“God,” she whispered, her voice husky, strained with pleasure. “Yes.”My hand moved lower, finding the delicate curve of her inner thigh as her skin was impossibly smooth, warm to the touch.I traced the line, moving towards the heat pooling between her legs, even before I reached her, I could feel the warmth radiating from her core, she was wet.So incredibly wet.My fingers brushed against the slick heat, feeling the soft, sensitive folds.Her legs parted slightly, an unspoken invitation and my fingers found her pussy, exploring the soft, wet entrance.She gasped, a sharp intake of breath, her hips lifting instinctively while my fingers nudged gently, feeling the tightness, the heat.It was a fight, a swe
DAMIEN ..A week.Seven days that felt both like an instant and an eternity since I’d last seen her across that room, since that unexpected jolt had gone through me.I’d gone back to the kitchen that night, finished the whiskey, gone to bed in the silent, cavernous bedroom.Tried to forget the splash of red, the genuine smile, the unsettling feeling of a pulse stirring in my chest after months of emotional flatlining.I’d thought about her.Briefly.Her face, that smile, but the thought of Leila, sharp and painful, had slid in right beside her, a constant, suffocating presence that overshadowed everything else.Leila.Her empty eyes.The feeling of her hand in mine just before she pulled away.The ghost of her haunted this penthouse, haunted me and the thought of the woman in red had receded, faded back into the general background noise of my life, leaving only Leila’s ghost standing guard.Up until now.Well the charity gala.Organized by Harris, of course. Another obligation, an