Page 82 of Knight

With only this blanket around me, it would be nice to get a little more comfortable. So I do, Damien watches me drop the blanket to the rug, fry dropping from his mouth when I do, and I give him that look.

“Wait a second before you wear that,” he says. “I’m ready for dessert.

A thrill of excitement runs through me but my legs are sore, ass still stings. Leaning over so I can rub a cheek, I shake my head. “I need a break.”

He laughs and it’s intoxicating. “I’ll tell you when you’ve had enough. Now bring that sweet ass over here.” With a glance at the counter, he starts to rise from the rug. “On second thought … ”

I don’t have to move my shaky legs before Damien’s picking me up and bending me over the kitchen island. He reaches for a cloth, pulling my arms behind me before he’s tying my wrists with it.

Then he goes to town.

With another condom on, he has a hand on my wrist, the other pulling my hair, lifting my head off the counter. Damien pounds into me again, my loud cries and moans only fuelling his power.

Another orgasm doesn’t stop him and he holds me in place while my legs threaten to give out. The kitchen is a blur. The sounds of our moans, groans, and skin slapping together accompanies the heavy guitar coming out of the speakers.

Pushing my head against the island, he keeps going, keeps up his onslaught while he smacks my ass and makes him exactly what he says I am.

His.

Eighteen

“Favourite Halloween movie.”

Slamming the shot glass onto the table I’m staring Damien in those kaleidoscope eyes. He’s down to his boxers and I’m in my bra, panties and socks and like most days in the King house, it’s been hard to keep our hands off each other.

My thighs are still sore from the continuous barrage of Damien’s cock, and yet, I still crave his touch. Too much? Apparently not for us.

“One,” he starts.

“Two,” I continue.

“Three,” we say at the same time before I blurt out, “Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

He chuckles, taking a second before he responds, “Vivarium.”

“You didn’t say it with me,” I huff, rolling my eyes before taking a drink from the bottle between us. “Wait. Viv-what?”

I still don’t know what time it is. We haven’t been keeping track. We’re on the second-floor landing overlooking the foyer, asses on the floor. One of Damien’s black t-shirts hangs off my frame and it feels softer than any shirt I’ve worn. Even the ones Holly got me don’t feel as good as this and I’m starting to wonder if it’s because it’s his.

The last week has been nothing but drinking, talking and hot-blooded fucking. It’s the most one-on-one time I’ve had with Damien. While he knows my dark secrets, we’re learning a lot. For example, Damien King is a confirmed insomniac, not like I didn’t see that coming. I know because I am too. But it’s easier to sleep with him around. And if not, he’s there to drink me into a haze or fuck me into exhaustion.

He pulls the bottle to his lips. “I’m not sure if it’s technically a Halloween movie, but it’s horror,” he says, wiping a drop of bourbon off his bare chest.

Weed scattered in front of us, I start rolling another joint. “Well, what’s it about?”

“Aliens.” He’s resting his forearm on his knee, hardly taking his eyes off me. His bulge sits in my line of sight, pressing against the fabric.

“Aliens?” I ask. Didn’t take Damien for a science-fiction kind of guy,

“On the surface.” He scratches at the back of his head. That’s his thing when he’s feeling vulnerable. When Damien King is saying those crass words or demanding threats, it’s like second nature. But when having a normal conversation about movies? It’s like he’s hesitant to reveal that he’s human. Yet here he is, revealing it to me. “It touches on societal norms. Marriage. Kids. The fucked up American dream.”

“Hm.” Licking the paper I seal the joint. “Kind of like Rocky Horror then.”

“Wouldn’t know. Haven’t seen it.” He pours us both another shot before he takes the joint from me, finishing my roll. I’ve been hazy all week. The Damien King Christmas experience. While everyone else is having their Hallmark moment, that’s not for us. We rather stay piss-drunk and stoned, forgetting the world around us.

“You what?” I snort, my voice louder than usual with this much alcohol in my system. “Fuck Elf, we’re watching that this Christmas.” Heavy metal plays in the background, old takeout containers piled high in the kitchen. I feel like a rockstar on vacay. This could be the vacation I needed all along. One with only Damien and me.

“We’re going to have to up the stakes,” I say, squinting. “While I’ve enjoyed learning about what you like, if we’re going to trust each other, I need to get inside your head.”

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