Authors: Lynda Chance
"Holy
fuck,"
he hissed in amazement,
"You're telling the truth."
Angie took a deep breath and nodded her head.
"My mother is having sex with somebody?"
Angie relaxed a tiny bit and her lips quirked. "Well, not quite yet, but--"
She stopped speaking when he held up his hand with an abrupt movement. "Don't say anymore. I don't want to know."
Her small grin turned into a smile. "I get what you're saying. But think about me! I had to have a sex talk with her!"
"Stop!"
His eyes narrowed as he held up a hand. "Not another word. I don't want to know about it. I don't even want to
think
about it."
Angie nodded, thankful his fury had abated. She still felt some unease about the way he'd acted and the things he'd said the night before, but she had to cross one bridge at a time.
They watched each other in silence for a few seconds. "You still want to get out for a while?" he asked. "This has fucked me up. I need a drink. Have you eaten?"
"I could use a drink," she offered.
"Let's go."
****
An hour later¸ they'd eaten and were finishing up. As they waited for the bill to arrive, Damian reached over and picked up her hand. He'd had only one drink with his meal, but still, the alcohol had mellowed him just a bit and Angie could feel the heat of his palm searing into hers as he laced their fingers together. His mouth tightened as he watched her and his voice rumbled across the table, "Seeing those condoms fall from that bag almost decimated me."
His words were so low and contained such an edge of vulnerability that Angie felt a trace of tempting heat. A vulnerable Damian was new. It made her forget about his callous attitude from the night before. And it was making her heart beat more quickly. "I'm sorry," she offered, not knowing exactly what to say.
His thumb dragged back and forth across her skin. "I'm just saying, I didn't like the feeling--the thought of you in bed with another man."
"You don't have to worry about that," she whispered.
His eyes glinted and refused to release her from their hold. "Are you sure?"
She dipped her head. "Yes."
"Is it something you worry about, too?" His brows drew together with a frown. "I mean, do you think I'm still screwing other women, or do you even care?"
Her pulse went into overdrive. "Of course I care. But I know you're not. I know you wouldn't do that. I'd thought we'd agreed on that when I got on the pill."
He shook his head. "We tiptoed around the subject. Maybe we need to say it out loud. Maybe I want to hear you say loud and clear that it's just you and me." He examined her closely, his gaze focused. "Because that's the way I feel. I haven't looked at another woman since you. I haven't wanted to."
She smiled at that. "You haven't had time. It's been pretty steady almost every night, you know?"
Heat lit his eyes at the reminder and his fingers tightened over hers. "I know. And I'd like to keep it that way. I'd like you to tell me that it's just you and me. I want to hear it."
She ran her fingers over his hand. "It's just you and me."
His expression didn't change, but he began nodding his head, as if it were something he'd already known, but now had the verification that pleased him. His voice deepened as he spoke, "I want you to know, as long as we're together, you don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of you . . . anything you need. Anything you want." She swallowed and nodded her head, and tried not to think about what it would be like if they weren't together. Her eyes remained glued to his as he continued, "There are only two things I want from you . . . two things I need really." Her pulse pounded as she waited with bated breath for him to go on. "Nobody else touches you . . . and I want your total compliance in bed."
At his words, the breath slipped from her lungs in a dizzy rush. "I thought . . . I thought I'd already given you that."
His eyes held hers prisoner. "Maybe--maybe not. From this moment going forward, I want your complete surrender, I want certain rights over your body."
Angie felt a jolt of hysteria at what he might be implying. She attempted to swallow her alarm and asked, "Are you talking about hurting me in the name of pleasure?"
His eyes narrowed into slits and he immediately began shaking his head. "Absolutely not."
Even with his denial, the blood continued to pound through her veins in sheer freight. "Are you sure? I can't do that."
He shook his head more vigorously this time. "There's absolutely nothing inside of me that wants to hurt you. The image of you feeling any kind of pain, but particularly at my hands, horrifies me. It doesn't get me off at all. If it's any comfort, you can take that to the bank."
She felt a ribbon of relief, but was still confused. "I don't understand what you're asking me for that you're not already getting."
"I want you to do what I say, Angie. In bed . . . that's what I'm talking about. When we're in bed together, I want you to relinquish control to me. I want your total acquiescence."
"Are you saying . . . are you saying that you don't want to have to stop if I tell you to stop?"
Tension lit his features as he chewed into his bottom lip until the blood was gone and it showed white. "That's not what I'm saying. I'll always stop if you ask me to."
She shook her head slowly, in confusion. "I'm not getting it."
He picked up her other hand and spread his fingers through hers, until both of their palms were touching. "I don't know how to explain this to you, because I've never felt a need like this before I met you. This isn't something I've ever wanted with another woman." A primal look of heat infiltrated the lines of his face as he attempted an explanation. "I'll always stop if you tell me to. What I'm saying is that I don't want you to tell me to stop."
Angie felt her stomach plummet and let her hands go limp. The only thing holding them up were his fingers, entwined with hers. "But that's my only out."
He nodded his head. "And you'll still have it. But I want you to use it sparingly, baby, understand?" A raw sizzle filled the air between them, a pagan, primal life force that felt tangible. "I've struggled with this, Angie, since the first time I saw you."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember what I said to you, what I warned you about?"
Her brain was more than muddled, but she thought back to that day and tried to remember his exact warning but the agitation she was feeling was too strong. "I remember you warned me about sleeping with you."
"What I said to you that day was the truth. But then I lied and coerced you into bed with me anyway." His fingers tightened on hers. "I want to own you, Angie. I want to own each and every one of your orgasms. I want you to be mine, to do with what I will. I don't want to ask for permission, I don't want to worry about refusal. From the first moment I saw you, I've felt an urge I can barely control to sink my hands around you and know that I can do anything I want to you, and nothing and nobody can stop me. Maybe that's wrong, I don't fucking know. I've never experienced the feeling before in my life."
"I don't . . . know what to say."
He continued as if she hadn't spoken, "I'd never physically hurt you, at least, not that I could help. That's not what this is about," he reiterated. He dropped one of her hands and seized her wrist in a grip she knew she couldn't break unless he allowed it. "You intoxicate me. Your scent drives me crazy. I feel a driving need to take everything good and precious about you and lock you in my bedroom and fuck you blind. I want to take everything that's pure and wholesome that you hide behind your gothic mask and force it out so I can touch it. Control it. I want to control you."
"You're scaring me."
He reared back from the table, a look of unease crossing his features but he didn't release her. "Maybe I need to shut up."
"Maybe you should," she said in total seriousness.
Silence pulsed between them, the soft hum of restaurant noise in the background. They sat like that for a few moments, his thumb on her wrist pressing against a pulse point she knew was racing uncontrollably. Finally, he spoke. "Say it again."
Her tongue raced across dry lips. "Say what?"
"Tell me you only sleep with me," he demanded.
"I only sleep with you," she repeated quietly.
He nodded as his features hardened. "And now say you're mine."
Angie knew what he was asking. He was asking her to agree with everything he'd just laid out about their ongoing relationship. How different could it be from what she already had with him? If he didn't want to hurt her, and she believed him on that, totally, then how different would going to bed with him be? She didn't think it would be any different, this was just some kind of mind game that was tripping him up. He was already supremely, completely dominant in bed and she allowed it, because she loved it. There wasn't a thing about going to bed with him that she didn't love already. So this just had to be some kind of a formality for him. At least she told herself as much. "I'm yours," she said in a rush before she could chicken out. Heat saturated her senses when she heard her own words.
A look of total satisfaction crossed his harsh features. "That's it then."
He paid the bill and walked her out to the car with a new sense of urgency, his hand at the small of her back.
****
Damian led Angie inside his house, the same fantasy that always fucked with his brain screaming at him now. It was a simple thing, really. They'd had sex more times than he could count, in more positions than he could remember, but he'd always held off on the one thing that made him salivate with lust.
He wanted to hold her prisoner underneath him and take her from behind.
He wanted her on all fours
.
He'd
always
wanted her on all fours, and the only reason he'd held off was because of their disparate sizes and her seeming innocence where sex was concerned.
It was obvious she hadn't been a virgin. That wasn't it. But she sometimes wore an expression of disconcertedness. Some of the things he did to her seemed to catch her off guard. Her eyes would widen, she'd wear a shaken-look, and he couldn't fail to see her body tremble.
He'd gone easy on her, at least in his own mind.
But now they'd gotten some things ironed out between them, and the new knowledge that she was exclusively his, had in fact readily agreed to that, was now sending a primal beat through his bloodstream that he couldn't ignore.
He needed to nail her to the bed, flip her over, pull her to her knees, and plunge inside.
He needed that like he needed air to breathe.
As he clamped his fingers around her wrist, her demeanor was a bit more submissive and silent than usual as he led her to his bedroom. It should have calmed him down, but it didn't. It had just the opposite effect. He felt his abdominal muscles lace with tension, the skin on his face stretched tautly across his cheekbones, and his erection was engorged to such a degree that he felt as if he might erupt from the first stroke of his fingers across her clit.
The thought sent another rush of blood to his cock.
Yeah, fuck yeah, he needed her clit
. His nostrils flared as he pushed the door to the bedroom shut and maneuvered her against it. His brain was about to explode with anticipated pleasure. He had one thought banging around in his head.
He didn't have to be so fucking careful anymore
.
It would be okay if she knew how insane he was about her. She wasn't going to run.
His hands slid to her t-shirt and he pulled it over her head in a rapid movement and tossed it aside. He latched onto the pale contours of her breasts with hot eyes and watched the rapid inhalations of the breath coming in and out of her lungs as she pressed back against the door. At the sight of the pale white skin above her bra, his lust inched up a notch. "Mine," he hissed out uncontrollably, his finger running over the pale swells. "New rules. Let's give them a try," he didn't wait for an answer. He sank his fist into the center of her bra and pulled it down until her nipples popped up over the material.
Damian let out a groan that he didn't try to control and pulled down harder until Angie's small white breasts were pushed up over the material and her bra held tight below them, binding her within the twisted fabric. A raw arrow of lust shot through his veins at the sight. He pressed his thumbs over her nipples, pressing them into her body until she let out a gasp, and then he eased up and began swiping them repeatedly. Back and forth, over and over until he and Angie were panting together and he began to feel like he was foaming at the mouth.
Fire smoldered down his spine and he felt an immediate urge to take her clit between his teeth. But he refused to let go of her nipples. Her eyes were closed, her head against the door as she stood still in his embrace, breathing so hard he didn't know how she couldn't be hyperventilating. "Open your eyes."
She let out a soft moan but her eyes remained closed, though her forehead furrowed with concentration. "Angie," he growled, "Open your eyes.
Now."