Page 80 of King

Did Damien King say he’s into me? Like, officially?

He’s unbuttoning my shirt, his teeth on my neck before he brings his mouth to my ear, “I’m into you, Jo.” Pulling on my shirt, buttons pop off as he exposes my chest.

"Is that why you keep embarrassing me?" I ask. It's hard to be mad at him when his thumb rubs my tip, my anger pushed aside by pleasure.

"Everyone here thinks you're a slut." His teeth graze my neck. "Now they know you're my slut."

Cold metal grazes my nipple, they pucker and I gasp but he catches it with his lips. Sinking into Damien's kiss is too easy, his lips like that first puff of weed. When we part he hangs the clamps between his two fingers. The chain is long, rubber at the tips of the clamps that look like tweezers.

His free hand moves under my skirt, squeezing the fleshy cheeks of my ass, a finger moving to the crease. There's a pinch on one nipple, followed by the other, his hand moving to my front, cupping my mound. A small hint of pain comes before a burst of tingles spread down to my core. He pulls on the chain and with his finger between my slit, I lose the power to hold in my cries, "Holy shit."

“Mmm,” he growls, whipping me around, a woosh on my cheeks, skirts rising to my waist. Damien's hard rod is against my ass as he pulls on the chains, "And now I’m about to be in you.”

It’s like groundhog day the next couple of weeks.

Errands with Isaac. Lunch with Damien, though we don’t do much eating unless you count that thing he does between my legs. We've hooked up all over campus at this point. Janitor's closets. Empty classrooms. International student dorms and even the pool.

I've been so caught up with the Kings that I've hardly spent any time with my sister. Willow thinks I’m helping the guys with some of their schoolwork and I haven't told her much about Damien. Not that I have to.

The rumours have already made their way around after Damien's stunts. I yelled at Damien for being a pig about the way he sends his gifts. He’s toned it down, only surprising me with his twisted toys once we're together. Paddle. Ropes. Handcuffs. He likes to be in charge and it's no different when we're alone, but I don't submit without a fight. That's not too different from how we are when our clothes are on. Fighting for power.

Being with Damien should feel weird, and not just because of his adventurous take on sex. But it doesn’t. Something about Damien seems so right that when I’m around him, I forget all the warning signs. All the red flags.

His mischievous games aside, Damien helps to keep my mind off the darkness in my world. That includes Allie and Nate. They try to contact me at least once a day but while Nate’s given up, Allie keeps pressing on.

I haven’t seen much of Christian which is best after knowing what I know. I have questions for him but as long as I’m around Damien, I doubt he'll answer.

It's Thursday, I'm leaving the girls bathroom when Damien strides towards me. “It’s French Day in the cafeteria and I’m a sucker for crepes." He reaches out, his hand as cold as usual when he takes mine. "Join me.”

He puts an arm around me and some of the girls whisper and sneer as he leads me down the hall. Looking over my shoulder, his grip tightens.

“Wait,” I say. “You want to actually eat here?”

“I do.” He nods, keeping that stoic Damien King look on his face until we’re in the cafeteria.

Everyone assumes Damien and are hooking up but neither of us confirms it. For all this talk about me being his, he hasn't been one for public displays of affection. Not that I've pressed.

“Hey, we should talk about this,” I protest as he leads me around tables of students, all eyes on us. I lower my voice, “We haven’t talked about what we are. And—"

“We’re Damien King and Jo Rowland.” Isaac and Beth are at the table when we get there. “And we’re having crepes together.”

Twenty-Three

The cafeteria goes silent the minute my ass hits the seat next to Damien.

I can feel eyes watching our every move. No one’s saying anything. They just stare.

As I’m trying to settle in my seat, one of the doors burst open, Lea and Georgina walking in followed by a gaggle of Trust Fund Trolls. She spots me and storms right to the table.

Slamming her hands in front of me. I can feel Damien’s cold hand on my thigh. He rests his other elbow on the table, smirking at Lea. “Well, good afternoon ladies.”

“What is she doing here?” Lea whips her head to me, sporting a plaid headband.

“Oh get over it Lea,” Isaac says, waving her to her seat. “Relax and hang out.”

“How am I supposed to eat with vermin at the table?" Her nose twists. "This isn’t The Grove.”

I’m about to fire back when Damien’s hand moves up my kilt and into my panties. My eyes spring open as he moves his fingers in circles and nothing comes out of my mouth except a soft sigh.

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