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Authors: Alicia Taylor,Natalie Townson

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BOOK: Corrupted
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CHAPTER EIGHT

May 13th 2014

 

After a few hours of dreamless sleep I wake feeling renewed and refreshed, ready to face the day. I have a lot to do in order to get ready to bring Hunt down. I need to play it differently this time. I don’t want to hook him and just leave. I need to get him to marry me. I can take everything from him then.

I grow restless just thinking about it so I decide to get up. I dress in yoga pants and an off the shoulder top before sliding into my slippers. Opening the door, I walk downstairs and head to the kitchen. It’s a beautiful home. The kitchen is every baker’s dream. I love to bake. I find it therapeutic.

The kitchen is huge
and has a expensive feel to it. A big eight-ring burner sits atop a black marble-top island in the centre of the room. Three tall stools are positioned the opposite side of the island. Two ovens are affixed to the wall, purple gloss style cupboards add colour. Every chef’s dream appliances are spotted throughout the kitchen. Most accessories are chrome finished.

I swiftly search around to locate items to make a quick breakfast. Grabbing a box of cornflakes and some milk I pour myself a bowl and
start to wander around Damon's house, taking in my surroundings.

I enter the living room which is cosy, reaching for the lamp. I switch it on and feel surprised. It’s actually very nice. There is a large comfortable looking corner sofa, a huge tv is attached to the wall as a main feature, and there are pictures hanging in various places. I glance at the pictures, taking a step closer for a better look. Some were of Damon alone, some were at events with business associates, and some are more casual
, with family.

Damon looks happy, relaxed, and carefree in every picture. There is so much love shining through the picture wit
h his family. It’s hard to picture the Damon in these photos as the one who hurt my sister. He seems to be completely different than what I imagined.

I can’t help the bitterness that is building inside me. I feel envious, and worse, I feel more alone than ever. The emotions I have been pushing down for so long rise to the surface again, thanks to my dream, and I can’t help the sob that escapes from my throat. I sink to
my knees on the carpeted floor.

I
miss my family so much. I haven’t let myself feel for so long that I’ve blocked out how alone I actually am. When this is all over I’m going to have nothing left.  I’ll be in the same position as Damon, only I’ll have the added sorrow of grief to deal with.

The pain is going to be so bad that I’m not sure I will surv
ive it. I have held off the emotions of being alone for so long that it has festered. It’s built. It hurts now and I know I’m still blocking most of the pain ready to drown me.

Being alone is so hard. I never thought about the fact that eventually I will be alone, as I’ve always meant to be. I’m not worthy of love. I don’t know what I did but I must be a monster to be dealt a fate like the one I have.

I feel his arms around me before I see him. The warmth of him pressing into my back brings comfort to my crumpled body. He holds me as he rocks us from side to side, whispering words to console me. I turn to face him, clinging to his body like he is my lifesaver, crying into his hard, smooth chest as I let all my grief flood my heart.

“Let it out, baby. I got you.”

His words find me searching for his mouth, pulling his head down to meet my demanding lips. My hands clutch him closer to me and he tenses beneath my fingers. I need to just feel something other than this pain. Anything. I whimper against his mouth, as he finally pulls me closer to him, letting me feel all of his hardness pressed against me. I feel a pool of lust hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through my system as quick as a tsunami.

He feels so right. 

But I can’t feel. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want this. I need my grief, it is what is getting me through each day. I push him away and stand up, running for my room before I can say anything. Before he can say anything.

Back in my room I feel anger. How dare he make me feel this way? This is not the game
. I don’t need him, and I won’t need him. Ever.

I pull my thin cotton shirt over my head and drop my pants to the floor. I collect my toiletries and walk into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. I give it time to heat up as I quickly get to work brushing my teeth. After a quick rinse I take a good look at myself. I look like the old me
, the one who didn’t wear make-up, the one who cared about things, people. The one who had a future. I’m just a shell of that person now. A knock on the bathroom door sounds out.

“Ella? If you don’t have plans today, would you consider joining me for lunch? Just as friends of course and we don’t have to talk about what just happened. Please?” Damon speaks through the door to me.
Hearing his voice reminds me why I’m a shell of my former self now. It’s his fault.

“Sure
,” I call in a timid voice. “I need to go dress shopping too. I have an event to go to Thursday evening.” I smile to myself. I already know Damon is attending the exact same event. It’s the perfect way to let him know I’ll be there too.

“Which event?” he questions. “I have one too.”

“Can I finish with my shower then we can discuss details?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. I’ll wait downstairs for you.” 

Stepping into the scorching hot water, it soothes my already heated skin. I scrub away all traces of his touch. Every single second his breath was on my skin is washed away. I feel raw, the pain is a reminder of why I am doing this, of why I need to take him down and ruin him.

****

I dress in my black skinny jeans and emerald halter top, pairing them with six-inch black high heels that I know make my legs look so much longer. I need to go shopping for a dress for a charity function being held at a manor hotel to raise money for suicide prevention. All the high end businesses get an invite, the biggest competitors coming together for one night. The perfect place to see how easy it will be to manipulate Damon.

I have known about this for months. Ellery, one of Damon’s closest female associates informed me of it and got me an invite. This event will be the night the second part of my plan is being put into action so I have to get something spectacular. I want his eyes on me. Only on me.

Stepping into the kitchen Damon is standing with his arms folded across his chest. He is frowning when I walk in, a look of confusion and something else I can't quite place on his face. I keep my gaze trained on his trying to work out what that look was.

“Morning,” I say with forced politeness.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and add milk and sugar, before I sit down at the counter. I can feel his eyes on me watching my every move. He pulls out the chair next to me and sits down. I tip my head forward so my hair falls, shielding my face. I refuse to look at him. I need innocence to shine through.

Feeling his leg brush up against mine, I turn my head in his direction and look at him from under my eyelashes. His hand moves to gather my hair in a fist and pushes it over my shoulder, unveiling my face. It’s a move that leaves me feeling vulnerable. He leans his face towards me but I shy away from him.

“I have to go shopping for a dress. I will call you later about lunch.” I get up from the chair and move to leave. His hand touching my arm stops me in my tracks.

“Ella, wait. I’ll come with you, I need to get a suit for an event Thursday too.” He smiles at me and for a second I get lost in his eyes. His chocolate eyes take my breath away. I remember how they looked as euphoria overtook them. I know how they look when they darken with hunger. I don't know what to say, shaking my head to get the image of him out of my thoughts. I turn and head to the door, Damon follows.

As we pull up to the shops in my car I start to make excuses to go my own way, but Damon continues to follow me. I give up and just continue on my search for the dress.

We search several stores, each one coming up empty. The conversation flows freely. We laugh. A lot. The day is turning out better than I hoped. If Damon was really as he has been today I have no doubt that I could fall hard for him. He’s charming, witty, funny, and not to mention he’s abso-fucking-lutely sexy as hell. 

Walking into a boutique, I browse the dresses quickly, picking up a selection of different styles. I head to the dressing room, giving Damon a glare to stay put.

The first one I try on is a red floor length gown that feels skin tight. It is gorgeous but not sexy enough. I know I need to play hard with Damon.  The next is a silver halter-neck dress that drapes down low in the front and has no back. It’s flowy and totally not what I need. 

The third one I try on completely takes my breath away. The charcoal skirt is floor length, parting right up the middle, revealing my long, tanned legs with each step I take. The waist is pinched in with crystal belts, highlighting my curvy hips. The bust is black lace with a tan underlining, almost making it appear see-through. The cuffs and neckline are finished with the same sparkling gems as the belts. It fits like a second skin on my upper body and floats out from my waist down. It's stunning but I know it will be too far out of my price range set for this event.

I hang the dress back on hanger and leave the changing room
. I sigh as I put the dress back on the rack, lingering and touching the delicate material. I really want it but I’m not prepared to go over my set limit and waste more money on a dress just for this man.

I feel Damon come to stand behind me, his breath on my neck as he speaks
.

“You like it?”
he
whispers.

I nod my head not daring to turn around, “It's too expensive
. I could never afford this.”

I'm not sure why I told him that, why I showed him a part of me I had been trying so hard to hide. The old me. My life has always been full of not being able to buy expensive things. I
could never afford anything close to the price of this dress. That was before.

Of course I can afford it now with all the inherit
ance I received. It’s not that I wouldn’t have been able to afford it in the last few years. I could have had anything I wanted, at any expense. I chose not to. I kept myself real when I was preparing myself to take on Damon. Now I need to use every last part of me to do that. 

It’s just that this man isn’t worth the amount of money the dress is priced. I refuse to spend more on this man than necessary. I can live the rest of my life without working and live a good life with my bank balance but I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life taking down this man. I plan for it to be as quick as possible. He’s not worth spending too much on when anything left between us will be ruined when I’ve finished. Why waste more money than necessary?

I move away from both the dress and Damon,
and head for door to go to the next shop. I have been walking for a couple of minutes before I realise Damon is not beside me. Puzzled, I turn and head back in the direction of the shop, reaching the store just as he walks out holding a bag. He holds it out to me and I know, I just know, it's the dress.

Stunned by his generosity, I feel confusion creeping in. I have been at his house and he has been so kind and caring. I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. What is happening to me?

I turn my head away composing myself, taking deep breaths to regain control. I turn back to look at him. This is what he does. He makes you feel special.

I kick myself for falling for it for a second. This is just part of his game. Lydia had written he likes to spoil his women to make them feel precious. This was just another one of his plans. I can play just as hard. I throw myself into his arms, shocking him again.

“Thank you so much Damon, I love it. I'm going wear it to the NSPL event on Thursday.” He smiles as he holds me close to him, clears his throat, about to say something but I speak first. “My date is going to love it, he won't be able to keep his hands off me.”

I feel Damon stiffen at my words and he releases me
. When I look up at his face, it shocks me when I see anger and confusion mixed with hurt. What the hell? Why would that hurt him? I was hoping for jealousy.

He mutters something about a meeting he forgot about and walks off, leaving me alone. Fine by me. I need some space to figure out what just happened. I walk back to my car, replaying the morning in my head. Why did Damon look so upset? Surely he was used to these games. After all, wasn't he the master manipulator?

Everything is falling into place, so why do I feel that somewhere in this crazy plan things are getting confused? Emotions seem to be getting involved. His, I want. Mine, not so much. I don’t want to feel for this man. I have one emotion that he deserves and the only emotion I want to feel.

Hate.

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

When I get back to Damon's house I realise that I don’t know the code to get in the gate, I take out my phone and send him a quick text message.

Hey, are you home? I just got back and I don’t know the code to get in.

I hit send and wait for the sound of my phone to beep, but instead the gates swing open. I drive up to the house and park. Damon is standing at the front door waiting for me.

I push my hair out of my eyes and plaster on a bright smile. He looks confused for a second but quickly returns it. His eyes are devoid of emotions. He’s put his walls up. I need to make up for the hurt earlier. I can’t end up losing him. Time to change tactics again.

“Have you eaten? I thought I could cook you dinner to say thank you for the dress.” I flash my eyes up at him, he seems taken aback at my offer. Hate could make him retaliate. I need to keep him on board.

“No, I wasn’t sure what you were doing, I didn’t want to make plans and leave you alone.”

I’m not sure how to take that from him. His eyes take me in from head to toe, the gleam in his eyes tells me he’s got himself back in control. I don’t understand how someone can be playing games the whole time. I have to believe that though because the only other option is that he isn’t playing games, and that would mean he isn’t the person that I thought he was. I wasn’t accepting that, I couldn’t accept that.

I rush inside and head upstairs, throwing over my shoulder that
dinner would be ready by 8pm.

When I get into my room I take the dress out of its bag and hang it up. I love the feel of the material. I know it looks amazing
and I can’t wait for Damon to see me in it.

Pulling my hair up into a messy pile atop my head, I strip out of my clothes and slip into some casual pants and a vest. I head to the bathroom and wash my face clear of makeup and then head back down to the kitchen.

****

I’ve been cooking for about half an hour when my skin tingles
, awareness sets in. I can feel Damon without having to turn around to look at him. The feeling surprises me. When had I become so in tune with him that I can actually feel him when he is near me?

I turn and smile “I hope you like Spaghetti Bolognaise?” He nods his head and smiles before pulling up a seat. Just as he’s about to sit I grab a salad bowl and knife and place it in front of him. “Make yourself useful, stud.” I throw him a wink and turn back to the pasta.

A comfortable silence settles between us as we finish up dinner. Little touches here and there are setting my skin ablaze. He sure knows how to play a good game.

“So, you’ve got a date?” Damon queries. I know he’s just fishing for information.

“Yep.”

“Will I know him?” The edge in his voice causes me to pause. He’s definitely not happy with me having a date. No doubt he already had one planned so I don’t understand his hostility.

“Probably not.” I hope not. I didn’t think this out properly. What if he has met Tom whilst he was out with Lydia? Shit.  

“I’m not surprise
d you already have a date. You’re stunning.” His finger comes up to caress my cheek. A genuine smile lights
up my face as I walk to collect plates to fill.

“Thank you.”
             

“If I had known you when I got my invite I would have taken you.” Not asked. Taken me. My smile drops as I plate up the food.

We don’t speak again, but the silence feels comfortable. I move to set the cutlery on the table but he takes them from my hands. “Let me.” It comes out as a whisper. I look up into his eyes and the earlier desire is there again, sexual tension crackles in the air surrounding us.

I stand on the tips of my toes to move my lips up to his. I place a quick brush of a kiss across them, not allowing him to deepen the contact, before moving away to open a bottle of wine.

I feel him move behind me as he grabs two wine glasses, pressing his torso against my back. I lean into him, pressing my arse against his crotch, as he slowly starts to rub up against me. A deep breath shudders out of his parted lips as I move out of the way, enjoying the game of cat and mouse.

I place the food on the table and sit down, waiting for him to join me. His lean, muscular frame is leaning against the counter as he tries to steady his breathing. He runs his hands through his hair and turns to come join me at the table.

We go back to the comfortable silence while eating. He hums in appreciation as he tastes his first bite of food. The sound thrums through my body, that one sound alone makes my clit throb. I take a deep breath and resume eating.

Every now and again I glance up and find him looking at me. Each time my body comes to life. The adrenalin running through my ve
ins is making me feel like I’m
on fire. A wave of lust bursts through my system straight to my core. How does this man turn me on so much?

It hi
ts me like a bullet. I want him.

I want this man
, not just as part of a game, but I feel real desire for him. I shouldn’t. I should only feel hate. Guilt hits but I push it down and I switch my feelings off. Desire I can work with. I can push his limits.

I
slide my chair back from the table and stand to move my dish to the kitchen side. I drain the rest of my wine before refilling my glass.

When I turn around Damon is staring
at
me. My nipples begin to harden. The look he is giving me sends bolts of lust straight to my pussy. I squeeze my thighs together to try and ease the ache in my sex.

He stands and prowls towards me like a hunter stalking its prey. The cocksure look across his face tames my desire momentarily. I like that he thinks he can have me any way, anyhow, and part of me thinks it may be true. His eyes are wild, burning straight into me, scalding me. 

“Are you okay, Damon? You have a funny look on your face. Maybe you should go and sit down.” I smile my sweetest smile and turn away from him, steadying my breathing. I move around the kitchen at lightning speed, trying to be anywhere that he isn’t. I can tell he is frustrated, his growl confirms that.

“Ella... Stop.” The word comes out husky. I stand still
, afraid to move, not sure of what my response will be. I’m losing control of the situation. I should be playing on his desire but he’s working on mine.

Sex
.

I can control sex. I can control
him
with sex.

I feel him behind me, his body heat warming my already overheated skin. His hot breath blows across my neck as he moves closer and closer. He starts to nuzzle on my throat, skimming my skin with his lips. He moves up to my earlobe, sucking on it gently. A moan slips past my lips as I tilt my head, giving him better access. My eyes snap shut as his hands snake around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

My peaked nipples throb, my breasts are achy and full. I bring my hands up to cup them, squeeze them. I pull on my elongated nipples, hoping to relieve the pain. I feel Damon harden against my arse, his cock nestled against the crease. His hands move up and cover mine. He squeezes my hands, adding more pressure, controlling the touch.

“Perfect tits. They fit my hands perfectly
,” he growls low in my ear. A small whimper leaves my throat. I move my hands from out under his, bringing them down to grasp his thighs behind me. His muscles bunch under my touch, contracting, as his cock thrusts forwards slightly.

He plays with my nipples through my shirt, tweaking, twisting and pinching, the friction setting me on fire all over. My hands travel up his thighs until I make contact with his cock. It’s hard and so big in my hand that I’m not sure how he eve
r fit before. I slide my palm over the bulge, before closing my fingers around him.

This makes him go crazy. He turns me, grips me under my arse, and pulls me towards him, driving his dick against my pussy. The contact is so precise, so perfect
, that I can’t help the cry that tears from my lips. I feel overdressed, there are too many clothes between us.
I grab the hem of my vest, lifting it over my head. Damon freezes when my bare breasts are freed, his eyes glued on my pebbled nubbins. I smile as he stares transfixed on my chest, knowing it will be easy to get him in a frenzy.

Taking the lead
,
I tug his shirt out his slacks and start to pull at the buttons of his shirt, needing him bare. Feeling impatient at how long it’s taking me to get them open I growl. I keep telling myself that I need to just get it over and done with, but part of me, the sick twisted part of me, loves the thrill, loves how his body is responding to mine. Loves how alive he is making me feel.

Damon must be feeling impatient too because he grabs the shirt and rips open the buttons. I reach for him, kissing along his pecs as his finger travel down my body to my trousers. He pulls my joggers and kickers down in one movement, helping me as I step out of them. The cool air hits my naked flesh, sending goosebumps across my skin. Or it could be his touch. 

I pull at his slacks, pushing them down around his ankles. He’s gone commando and just that has me pulsing. Juices pool on my thighs. He lifts me so my butt is sitting on the edge of the counter, stepping between my parted legs. He runs his fingers along my slit, feeling how wet I am.

“Wet. So fucking wet for me,” he grits out between clenched teeth. I moan in response. His fingers part my folds before circling my clit. He plunges a finger in my clenching opening, pushing deep, letting out a groan of his own. His finger comes out and he brings it up to his mouth to suck my essence off.

“Hmmm just as tasty as I remember.” 

I wrap my body around him, pulling him into me. He grabs his cock pushing deep inside with one hard thrust. I gasp at the force of him. He pauses, taking a moment for me to adjust around him before he slowly retreats to the tip and thrusts back
in hard and fast. He pushes
so hard he lifts me off the counter with force. I cling tighter to him, just absorbing
his punishing rhythm.

“So fucking good
, so hot and fitting. Perfect fit baby, like a glove. You fit me everywhere.” My body is slick with sweat. My arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into his hair, tugging the soft strands. We do fit together everywhere.

“Never... Never has it been like this. Fuck, I can’t hold back.” He grips my hips and pulls me forward, hard onto his cock, lunging in at the same time. He hits deep, keeping himself pressed against me. I’m full to the hilt. His body makes just the right contact with my clit
and
I clench around his cock. He grinds into me, setting fireworks off in my body. My core ripples around him, trying to pull him in deeper.

“Come, baby. Come on my cock, let me feel you.” A throaty groan on Damon’s lips sends me over the edge.

I can hear myself screaming out his name as I clamp down on his steely cock. My body trembles as wave after wave of pure pleasure floods me. The feeling is intense. He fucks like a pro and I could get used to this. Damon slowly starts moving again, drawing out my pleasure. I bite down on my lip, enjoying his slow plunges. With a sharp thrust, he buries his head in my neck and comes, his cock pulsating inside me. My name comes off his lips as a growl. His body slumps forward, pressing my back against the counter, pinning me.

It takes a couple of minutes to get our breathing under control, his weight a welcome pressure blanketing me. I kiss the side of his head as I softly stroke
his back. This moment is pure bliss. It feels so right being wrapped in him. I never want to leave his warmth.

I feel the panic creeping over me. Fuck. What was I thinking? How can I feel so comfortable in this man’s arms? I need to get away from him, I need to breathe. I can’t breathe. I struggle to get free from him, he pulls back to look at me, confusion and concern shining in his eyes.

“You okay?” I push against his chest, needing distance. Damon acts immediately, pulling out of me. The sensation of his cock slipping free makes him groan and me whimper. I try to climb down but he stops me with a soft kiss to my left breast. I suck in a shocked breath at the intimacy.

He quickly moves to the sink, collects a
fresh cloth from under the it, and wets it. He walks back to me, not concerned with his nakedness in the slightest, and wipes me between my legs, cleaning me. The breath I’ve been holding catches in my throat at the gentle, intimate act.

“I’m sorry
,” he mumbles as he finishes cleaning me up. Startled, I bring my eyes up to his. “It was all so sudden. I’m clean.” It takes me a moment to realise he didn’t wear a condom. Fuck. How the hell could I let him inside me without protecting myself? This man is a monster. The last thing anyone needs is a monster spawn, not that that could ever happen to me. “I’m sorry.” The honesty in his voices calms me. It was a mistake. One that won’t be repeated.

“I’m clean too.” I tell him quietly.

“I believe you.” He bends over to kiss me softly on the lips. I melt under his body, pressing my lips against his in return. “I need to ask, are you on the pill?” I’m shaking my head before he finishes.

“No, but it’s okay. I can’t get pregnant. I have a medical condition called PCOS. It means I have cysts on my ovaries. I won’t be able to have children naturally.” I turn my head away, swallowing past the lump lodged in my throat, unable to look at him. The grief that I can’t have children still plays on my mind, not that I had ever given time to think about having children, but finding out was just another thing taken away from me.

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