Page 64 of Devotion

A smirk curves Damien’s lips half a second before they’re on mine. His soft, silken tongue pushes into my mouth, and I suck it, tilting my had to draw it in as I forget how to breathe.

My movements aren’t my own as he pushes me inside, locking the door without breaking the flow. The sound of our heavy breathing fills the air when I step away to pull the single strap of my dress off my shoulder. I make quick work of shimmying out of the clingy fabric, letting it slip down to the floor.

Watching Damien ease both arms from his suit jacket with a subtle hint of swagger, saliva gathers in my mouth. I lower to the bed, still gawking as he removes his cufflinks, and then places them on the nightstand beside my meds. Staring at his fingers as he unbuttons his shirt, I’m reminded of how he played between my legs at the club, making me come despite being so filled with rage that night.

His shirt falls to the floor beside my dress, and I strain my eyes to see him through the shadows as traces of moonlight seep through my blinds. I’ve finally gotten the full view of his tattoo, but I’m distracted from the details of the dark predator inked on the side of his neck when I spot something else. Something on his chest that I have to squint to see.

Wild thoughts of sucking and fucking him start to slip. Instead, those thoughts are replaced with questions as I sit straighter, reaching toward the scarred skin over his heart. My fingertips trace the puffy, pink ridges of a wound I’d guess to beyearsold, but that doesn’t make sense.

Because the word carved into his flesh is… my name.

Silence fills the room, and Damien’s expressionless. After several seconds, I peer up to meet his gaze. The fear he tried to induce a moment ago has crept in now, causing my limbs to seize.

“It… I…”

He grips my wrist, flattening my hand over the carving. It’s as though he wants me to feel the echo of pain he inflicted on himself, wants me aware of the fact that he once bled for me.

“…Why?W—when?” I stammer, believing the latter might be the more important question.

“Does it matter?”

His tone is low and even, but my eyes stretch wide.

“Does it—? Yes!” I scoff. “You’ve only known I exist for what… the last couple months maybe? So, yes. I’d say it matters. This scar, it looks… it looks like it’s been there foryears.”

I expect a rebuttal, some sort of defense or deflection. But instead, he holds my gaze, and I sense nothing but curiosity in his eyes.

“And if that’s true, if this scar has been with me for years… does that scare you?”

I swallow deeply and feel the incredulous expression that’s just taken over my face. His heart’s racing beneath my palm as I stare at his naked torso, then his question echoes inside my head.

Does that scare you?

I glance up again, meeting his stare, knowing his eyes have been the last sight so many have beheld as life slipped from their grasp. Then, I’m more aware of both his hands locked around my wrist, knowing they’ve been coated in the blood of the innocent.

Does that scare you?

My breathing is erratic as I shake my head, answering his question. “It should, but… no.”

One corner of his mouth hitches with a smile, and my fingers sink into his chest, squeezing the solid muscle where he’s marked himself for me. At the thought of a blade slicing through his skin, leaving a crimson outline of my name that will forever remain with him, wetness gathers between my legs.

“Good,” he breathes. “Then, when you’re ready, when you’rereallyready… I’ll tell you everything.”

With that, his hold on my wrist loosens, and he takes a step back to undo his belt. The mystery of him is overwhelming, making me want to speak up, making me want to tell him I’m ready for answersnow,but that’s a lie. Every part of me would rather not dwell on the bad. I’d rather be present, only focused on what’s right in front of me.

The sound of his zipper lowering arrests my thoughts, and I’m back in the moment, reaching toward him when the need to touch him persists. My hand is met with warmth when I slip it inside his pants, but I’m instantly annoyed by the lack of skin-on-skin contact. So, I switch my plan, reaching inside his boxers instead. This time, solid flesh fills my hand, and I’m satisfied, stroking his hot cock until I’ve bitten down on my lip so hard it aches.

“Lie down,” he rasps, and I move quickly. He spoke, and my body simply obeyed.

I soak in the sight of him as he climbs on top of me. The hard lines of his physique are smooth to the touch, inciting tiny fireworks against my fingertips as I explore the landscape of his body.

He straddles my waist, and for a brief moment, fear flashes through me again. It’s as if I can imagine there being a blade in his hand, slicing through the delicate skin between my exposed breasts. But then, the morbid imagery is gone, and as Damien repositions himself, covering me with his weight, he slowly grinds between my legs. Now, all I know is pleasure.

“Do you have any clue how many times I’ve thought of you? Just like this?” he asks. “Pinned beneath me… helpless… mine.”

My heart skips a beat at that word.Helpless. I try to swallow my nerves as his mouth finds mine again, and this time, even when he leans away, a small trace of terror lingers with me. As our gazes lock, and I take in that glint in his eyes, I’m guessing he likes it that way. Likes knowing I don’t one-hundred percent trust that this won’t end badly.

“Give me your cock. Now,” I force out, wanting to win back some of the control he’s stolen from me. But when his initial response is a smile, there’s no question who’s still got the upper hand.

---