The no-nonsense tone sends sparks of awareness through me. I’m in trouble. His fists clench, and his expression is wrought with frustration and anger at my actions. I don’t blame him. If the tables were turned, I’d feel the same, and guilt slowly morphs into a heavy weight in my stomach.
My heart is kicking against my ribs, needing an escape because, with every interaction with Damien, it wants him more and more.
He releases me, and I pad slowly into the bedroom, which is warmer than I anticipated. I slide up onto the mattress and lie back. I’m not sure if I should put clothes on, but for some reason, I just want to obey Damien.
It doesn’t take him long to join me. He’s still in boxers, as he walks to the foot of the bed. Silence hangs overhead, heavy and resounding. Guilt grips me, and so do his hands. He takes hold of my ankles and spreads my legs lewdly. The towel falls away, and all that’s left is me. Bared. Not only my body, but my heart and soul.
The glare he rakes over me makes me blush, as embarrassment burns my cheeks. He looks furious. It seems his two default settings when he’s around me are angry and horny—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
He tugs me down the mattress, earning him a squeak of surprise. And then my legs are hanging over the edge, while my top half is still on the soft mattress. I expect him to spank me or shout at me, but that’s not what happens next.
His knee comes up between my thighs, pressing against my core. A whimper falls free from my lips, and I watch as his mouth tilts into a satisfied smirk, as he finds pleasure in making me feel things for him.
“You’re being punished tonight,” he tells me, as he rubs his knee against me, up and down, the slow motion turning my body hot and needy. My toes curl as pleasure zips down my spine and over every inch of my skin.
Goosebumps appear on my exposed flesh. His taunting makes me angry and vengeful, but if I slap him again, I might get more punishment than is already in the cards.
“Fuck you, Damien,” I bite out, trying to buck him off me, but he doesn’t move. His hands come down on either side of my head. I’ve never been so exposed to anyone before. Not even the night I thought I was going to lose my virginity.
His one hand strokes my neck, gently at first, but then he wraps his fingers around the column of my throat. He holds me still but doesn’t squeeze. His other hand snakes down to my inner thigh, where it comes back with crimson on his fingertips.
I watch him wide-eyed when he presses the pads of his fingers to his tongue and licks the blood with a grin that’s filled with feral lust. He hums, eyes fluttering, as he takes me in.
“If you ever,” he starts speaking in a low, threatening tone. Slow and steady. “Ever do that again…” The words come to a halt when his other hand tightens around my throat. The air I was so freely inhaling is stolen, and I lock my gaze on his. It’s a challenge, how far can he take it.
His leg starts moving again. A whimper escapes me when he chuckles darkly at the sound. When his thigh stills, my hips involuntarily buck, needing the friction on my clit that’s throbbing from the attention. I need a release. The coiling desire in my stomach is tightening, twisting, and I chase the high of an orgasm until Damien pulls his leg away.
A pained cry tumbles from my lips, and another laugh comes from him. This isn’t punishment; it’s fucking torture.
The look in his eyes is pure evil when he leans in closer to my mouth. I almost expect him to kiss me, but that wouldn’t be punishment. His tongue darts out, licking my lips. “Do you want it, little sis?” he questions, using the nickname Finn gave me. “Do you want to come all over my leg?”
His query makes my cheeks heat. We shouldn’t be like this. I know it’s wrong, but I no longer care. I nod. It’s honest, it’s true, and I can’t shy away from my desire that seems to stem from the man before me.
His fingers glide down my naked body along with his gaze. His mouth finds my nipple, suckling it, before biting down on the hardened bud, which earns him another moan of pleasure.
But when his fingers find my core, my eyes snap open, locking on pools of blue. I could get lost in them. Perhaps I already have. His fingers tease my entrance, slowly at first, but when he dips a digit inside me, I cry out—the sound, husky, from not having sufficient oxygen.