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“You don’t want to use it?”

I swallowed and shifted my leg, pulling it out from under him, but then I realized now he was between my legs. He settled in, slowly lowering his body on top of me again.

“Last chance,” he whispered the same low growl as before.

I breathed hard, the heat pooling between us, and I tipped my head back, taking his wrist and putting the knife on my neck again.

“Keep it there,” I told him.

God, I didn’t care. I liked the illusion. I liked that feeling again, and I didn’t fucking care—here and in the dark where this dude would never see me again, because I would never come back here—that I needed this. He did this to me. I hated it and hated him, but I wanted to see. Needed to see. See if I liked it or to prove to myself that he, and what he did to me, didn’t mean anything and that I didn’t want it.

“Or maybe I’m hungry for something else, Little Girl,” he threatened.

Pressing the knife into my throat, he thrusted between my legs, and we both sucked in a breath as our bodies moved in unison. My eyes rolled back, his cock already hard through his jeans as it rolled over my clit. I could feel the wet heat in my panties, and I closed my eyes, diving into the black.

He humped me over and over again, sucking air between his teeth and getting rougher as his narrow hips rolled again and again. He dug the knife’s blade under my chin, and my orgasm crested, starting to roll through me.

“Holy shit,” he said, breaking character. “God, this is fucking awesome.”

And I lost it. The orgasm drifted away, hanging on by a tether until it snapped and disappeared.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I cracked.

Jesus Christ.

Pushing him away, I stopped him and crawled out from under him.

What the hell was I doing?

Music poured into the room with screams and laughter, and I knew others had fallen through the trap door, too. I followed their voices, scurrying past them and out the door.

“Wait, come back!” the guy yelled after me. “I didn’t mean anything. Are you okay?”

No. I wasn’t okay. I’d lost my fucking mind.

“Winter!” I heard Jade call. “Oh, my God. Thank God. We’ve been looking for you everywhere. You freaked us out. Are you okay?”

“Let’s just get out of here.”

The lost orgasm still lingered, keeping me hot and my head buzzing. I still needed the release.

They led me back to the entrance, and I sucked in lungfuls of air as we stepped outside into the welcome chill.

“Whew,” Isa giggled. “We have to come back. That was fun.”

I chewed my lip, not wanting to think about it. I wasn’t about to tell them what just happened, even though I knew they’d eat it up.

I didn’t hate that I enjoyed it. I hated that it reminded me of him, and that was why I enjoyed it. I still wanted to come. He’d changed my palette.

I didn’t want to understand Damon, but sometimes, I couldn’t help thinking of all the times he watched me but never touched me—confusing me and intriguing me. And how he hadn’t really changed so much.

Thirteen years ago he was hiding from his mother in a fountain, and after what happened in his room tonight and what Isa had told me, he was still hiding. Trying to feel everything through everyone else as he stood back and watched.

But bottom lines never changed. He still took what I never would’ve given him.

They all thought he was different with me, not realizing that I was just a different kind of kink to him. Something to get him off. He fucked with my head just like he did everyone’s, and coerce is still a way to force.

He was as guilty as sin.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance