Page 67 of Dragonfly

What the fuck?—

Damien’s face appears over mine. “Is that all?” he smirks.

Oh. It’s on.

Five times. Five times I get up, and five times he knocks me back down again. It becomes clear that he’s not trying to hurt me. The opposite. After each confrontation between us, he makes it clear how he was able to control it to the point that, before I know it, he has me down.

He’s teaching me. And maybe it’s being knocked down that many times, but I’m not really understanding what this is coming from all of a sudden.

The fifth time, I end up on my belly

He nudges me in my ass with his toe. “Come, come, Savannah. How did you think you’d kill me up close if I can knock you on that pretty ass so easily?”

Gritting my teeth, frustrated as all hell at how easily he’s throwing me around like a goddamn rag doll, I have to remind him as I climb back to my feet, “I almost pulled it off.”

“You distracted me with your cleavage that night. I’ve had my mouth on those tits since then. It’ll take more than that for you to seduce me for my weapon.”

I look him up and down. Between the muscle tank and the basketball shorts, it’s pretty obvious the only weapon he’s carrying is the one that’s notably bulging against the slick material.

He gives me that crooked half-smile when my gaze lingers on his dick a second too long. “I’m all yours, ragna mia. When you’re ready to try again, go ahead.”

“You want me to try and kill you?”

Right after I decided that I couldn’t even if I had the chance, he’s daring me to do it?

Damien shakes his head. “Not at all. But I’m more than willing to be seduced.”

Oh.

A shiver courses down my spine at the way he lowered his voice on that last word. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that all of this ‘training’ is really foreplay. But how can it be? Since the party at the restaurant, he hasn’t made a single move toward me except for his solemn insistence that his wife sleep with him in his bed.

That’s all we do, though. He spoons me, wrapping me up in his embrace, all while careful to keep his lower half as far away from me as possible. I tremble every time he lays soft kisses along the back of my throat, viscerally aware that he’s not putting his mouth anywhere else.

I thought… I thought it was a fluke. That I got the totally wrong idea when he killed Ricky. He wasn’t possessive over me because he cared, but because he considered me his property. That he fucked me so thoroughly to show the Dragonflies that he owned me instead of any other more sentimental reason.

That, once he nutted and nonchalantly mentioned his vasectomy, he regretted being intimate with me at all.

Why else had he kept his distance since then? Even if it was hate sex, it was good sex. I wouldn’t have stopped him—but he never even tried.

So seduce him now… why bother? Unless this is just another way for the Dragonfly to manipulate me to get what he wants: his would-be murderer under his complete control.

I shake my head. “Let me try again. I think I almost got you down that last time.”

Light on his feet, ready for me to come at him again, Damien smiles. “No, you didn’t.”

I ignore him.

The sixth time? Not only does he use my arm to flip me and my momentum to have me on my back, but my wonderful husband shifts his heel before pinning me with his body.

I groan. Out of pain or because his weight pressed against me is delicious, I can’t tell. But it’s a groan all the same.

He climbs off of me, and I groan again. This time, though, I know it’s because his weight is gone.

Sitting up, I glare at him. “Are you trying to kill me? Be honest. This is revenge for me stabbing you.”

“Not at all. This is teaching you how to protect yourself. You’ll thank me later.”

I doubt it.

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