Page 38 of Mine to Tease

“I told you—I have plenty of money and I know how to spend it. The plane is registered under an alias no one knows about because I created it after the Mafia was dissolved. If anyone learns about you, then it won’t take much for them to see I’m your protector. So, anything listed under my name or known aliases will be watched just as closely as they watch you. The plane is just one asset I’ve acquired in the event of something like this.”

I nod. “You are good at this, aren’t you?”

Damon smiles. “Only the best for a princess.” His phone vibrates then. “But it seems we won’t be needing it tonight. Aidan confirmed the invitation is legit.” I feel his muscles relax beneath me and I immediately let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God!” I sink into him and rest my head in the crook of his neck. We sit in silence with Damon running his fingers up and down my back. I love our moments like this when he makes me feel warm and safe. This is a feeling I never want to lose. I wasn’t planning on seeing my brother so soon. Still, I have no hesitation to tell him about me and Damon. How could I when this man makes me feel this happy, this cherished, this loved? I just hope he’s okay with it. Once Aidan knows…

“Damon, I’m ready to tell my brother about us.” At that, Damon’s fingers slow to a stop on my back. He tilts his head in my direction though I do not move from my place in the crook of his neck.

“Are you sure? You know what telling him will mean, don’t you?” The thought of it makes me smile. Flowers and a white dress flash before my eyes. I’m not the girl who grew up dreaming of her wedding, mostly because I never thought I’d have the luxury of marrying someone I love. I guess that means I’m about twelve years behind on the planning. Though, as I bite my lip and sit up to look at the man I will marry, I know I could marry him in an empty room wearing a paper sack and be the happiest bride to ever live. “Damon, despite everything that’s going on, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. This is a happiness, a love that I never want to end. So, yes, I know what telling Aidan will mean and I’m sure. You’re my family now.”

I bring my hand to Damon’s cheek and kiss him, long and slow. It’s the kind of kiss that tastes like an oath. As the realization of my words finally hits him, Damon’s lips draw into a smile of his own, letting me know he’s ready too. Tightening his grip on me, he stands, pulling me up with him. I giggle and grip on to him for balance. With a beaming smile, he wraps his arms around me, picks me up, and spins me around so many times I lose count. As his movements slow and our eyes meet, he says, “You just made me the happiest man, Anastasia Cross. The only thing that could make me happier is the day you officially become Mrs. Anastasia Dupont.”

“Who says I’m changing my last name?” I ask, brows raised. Of course I’m kidding. I’ll happily take his name. Though a little playful ribbing is always good for a relationship.

“Excuse me? Do I need to take off my belt and remind you who you belong to?” Damon squeezes me tighter, drawing a soft gasp from me as his eyes and lips shift into that devilish smirk I used to loathe and now love.

I cock my brow and offer him a smirk of my own and say, “Maybe.”

Damon nods and darkness clouds his vision. He moves without hesitation, carrying me to the back of my store with intention. Positioning me between him and the rack of hanging clothes, he places me on my feet. What’s he doing? It’s then that he pushes the clothes to the side, making a spot to hang something else. As he takes off his belt and wraps it around the rod, I start to understand. “Damon,” I say, though I’m too taken aback to finish my sentence. He ignores me and brings his hands to my purple scallop-trimmed tank top. Without a word or a glance, he roughly removes it from my body, revealing my see-through baby-pink bra. It’s dotted with tiny pink flowers and trimmed with matching pink lace. He then repeats the process and removes my purple shorts.

Damon growls at the sight of my pink Brazilian-cut panties. “What did I tell you about these?” he asks as he pulls them away from my ripe flesh with one finger. As he does, the lacy, sheer fabric rides up and pinches my clit. I let out a small gasp. All of this intensity and roughness has made my skin hot and tingly. Damon’s body responds in like kind as his erection threatens to bust the zipper on his black denim. Finally, he lifts his eyes to meet mine.

“I thought your rules didn’t apply anymore,” I say through bated breath. Damon moves closer to me then. He’s so close I feel his breath on my forehead as he towers over me. My underwear still bites my tender flesh, my wet arousal now soaking them.

“Do you have a problem giving me easy access to your pussy, my love?” he says.

“No, my love,” I answer. Damon nods and adjusts his grip on my panties from a soft one with one finger to a fistful. “Ah!” I cry out as the fabric threatens to rip through me.

“Then you won’t be needing these.” Finally releasing me from this torment, Damon removes my underwear. Though he makes quick work putting me in another vulnerable position. Damon lifts my hands above my head and binds my wrists with his belt. He tightens my restraints to the point that I’m lifted from the ground. Only the tips of my toes touch the floor beneath me. I wince as the belt tears at my skin, but I don’t complain. Damon and I have done a lot of things, but never anything this rough. Strangely enough, I like it and I want more.

Damon takes a step back and examines his handiwork while I fight against the sting of his belt by trying to balance on my toes. His eyes graze every inch of my body, from my toes to my dripping pussy, to my hardened nipples poking against the lace of my bra, and finally to my lustful eyes. Desire coils inside me just as intensely as the anticipation of what he’ll do to me next.

Slowly, he removes his clothes. First, his black T-shirt, then his jeans. Finally, he drops his black boxers to his ankles and steps out of them. I lower my gaze to his long, throbbing appendage. Even from this distance, I spot the pre-cum oozing out of his tip. It’s a good thing I got on birth control.

Damon walks toward me and brings his strong hand to my throat. Gently, he squeezes and then harder, harder. As breathing becomes more difficult, so does balancing. I stumble and the restraint catches me, but it hurts more than I ever thought it could. “Good,” he says. “Now you know what it feels like when you go lax against the restraints. So, wrap your legs around me, take my dick inside you, and fuck me to keep yourself upright.”

I smile then. “Is this you teaching me who I belong to? Because I was expecting something else. Perhaps a spanking or a tongue-lashing.”

Damon lets out a deep chuckle and removes the few curls threatening to hide my breasts. His eyes fall to them as he brings his hands to the delicate fabric and rips my bra from my body. He lifts his eyes back to mine, and in them I find a hunger that makes me crave him even more. “I have you naked, dangling from a metal rod in your own shop, Anastasia. This is proof enough that you are mine, that I can do whatever I want to you.” His fingers move to my nipples and begin a process of plucking, rubbing, and twisting that has me quivering, so much so, I nearly cum. Sensing my arousal building, he lowers his hands to his sides and says, “But only good girls get tongue-lashings. So, if you really want it, show me how much. Show me how much you want to be mine and I’ll show you even more so that you already are.”

My body is ripe and ready for Damon to plunge inside me and he does just that. He inserts himself, but then stills, leaving it to me to finish us both off. I take his hot directive as a personal challenge. I use every bit of core strength I have to angle myself just right. Damon stands with his arms outstretched on either side of me, palms pressed against the wall as I move my body back and forth on his dick. I grunt and sweat as I struggle and my efforts are only made harder as Damon moves his hands to my breasts. He toys with my nipples as I do my best to keep him inside me. But the stimulation is so much, I hunch forward to give my nipples a break.

“Uh-uh,” Damon says. “You know you’re not allowed to hide from me.”

I whimper as I work up the strength to expose my chest to him once more and continue riding him. Between my legs is sopping wet and my body is covered in sweat, so much so the grip of the belt on my wrists begins to loosen. Damon realizes it and moves one of his hands to where my wrists are bound. He uses his own hand as a cuff, letting me know I’m not getting out of this predicament until I finish him.

“Damon, please,” I beg. “I can’t. I can’t take much more.”

“Say it,” he says. “Whose pussy is this?” He moves his hand between my legs and massages my clit as I continue thrusting myself onto him. I cry out in pleasure.

“Yours.”

“Say it again.”

“Yours!” I scream. “My pussy is yours. You can do whatever you want to it. I belong to you.” With those words, we both cum. Damon pumps into me, filling me with his cum without stopping his assault on my clit. My arousal mixes with his, and when he pulls himself from me, it drips down the insides of my thighs all the way to the floor. My body shakes as I dangle once more—my orgasm ripping through me more powerful than ever before.

“Good girl,” Damon says and then quickly unbinds my wrists. Weak, I fall into his naked body and he promptly catches me. Swooping me up into his arms, he carries me away from the scene of the crime, back to the chair he once sat in. He sits, cradling me in his arms. The space between my legs still throbs minutes after, so much so, I feel like I could cum again.

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