Page 54 of Call You Mine

That was until three years ago when it not only became my worst nightmare, but a recurring ghost haunting me every waking moment.

Now, here, with him, there isn’t anything that feels more natural.

The walls of his bedroom metaphorically close in on us, darkness entering through the window to our right, only the flickering lights of the outdoor balcony lighting up the space.

I thank the stars we’re in almost complete darkness, this way I can pretend he won’t notice my disappointment if he refuses, or worse, rejects me.

“What do you have in mind, Wicked?” he drawls, so fucking sexy and smooth. My thighs involuntarily clench together as my arousal pools at my heated core. God, this is going to fucking kill me, regardless of the answer he gives me.

I swallow the lump lodged in my throat and almost moan aloud from the sensation of hearing him call meWickedhas caused. Because what I have in mind is oh so wicked.

I don’t hesitate. No need to make this complicated. Just a simple statement, possibly even given as a command. Six words, one action, no questions asked. “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s simple enough.

My voice echoes in my mind, and I’m surprised to see his face remains completely stoic, his smirk slowly falling back into place. His eyes however tell a different story.

They’re bursting with desire, a wanton need mirrored in my icy blue irises.

I’ve never been one for emotion, never one to beg or even make the first move. When I did date, it was usually a casual hookup, which I put the effort into, but never really thought twice about after. They were few but enough for me to know what I wanted and how I wanted it.

Any other pleasure was self-inflicted, my fingers or toys were the only ones to hear my cries of ecstasy and feel the need aching between my thighs.

However with Damon, just a simple touch, a wanton glance, is more than I could have ever imagined, and he hasn’t even agreed to more.

Damon’s silence is slowly killing me.Did I misread the situation? I mean he touches me every chance he gets but refuses to take things further.Here I am giving him a way in, putting myself on a silver platter for him and he’s staring at me like it’s the most preposterous idea. I see the way he eye fucks me whenever we’re in the same room, not to mention he’s practically forcing me to stay with him, in his house, with only two walls and a door separating us every long and dreary night.

The tension that circulates around us is not only heated and heavy, but bursting with so much desire it has to be dealt with before we both internally combust.

“Say something, please,” I plead, practically moaning as his knee makes its way between my legs, nuzzling them apart.

He leans forward, our noses almost touching as he breathes in deep before releasing his breath. “What do you want me to say?” he murmurs against my lips. The smell of smoke and cinnamon kisses my lips and I want so badly to reach out for him.

“Yes.” The word escapes me like a moan and I feel him smirk against my lips. “No,” I continue, getting a grip on my emotions. “It’s not rocket science, Damon.”

“You want to have sex?” he asks, and now I know he’s amused by the whole situation. God, if he could just put me out of my misery with a rejection.

“No, I want you to fuck me.”

His groan is feral, unexpected yet all too familiar. The way my body reacts to having him so close. How I nearly lose my mind preparing for what it will feel like when I have his hands, his mouth, his entire body on mine again.

However, Damon continues to torture me by not saying or doing a damn thing.

“Princess,” he drawls, grazing my lips with his tongue and moving his lips to the back of my ear. “I warned you nothing would ever happen between us until you started being honest with me. Are you ready to tell me what I want to hear?”

I shake my head, unable to agree to what he’s asking of me. I knew it was a long shot, getting him to agree despite what he’d said to me the last time, but I’d hoped he’d feel the same need I do and forget what he’d asked of me.

Apparently not the case.

“I can’t, Damon. Please. Ask anything else of me, but I can’t talk about that.”

He laughs, dark and menacing as he pushes off the bed and away from me. But before I can say anything, his gaze is once again on me. Dark, menacing, no longer playful. “You came to me, without warning, and begged me for help. I gave it to you, letting you into my home. You proposed the ridiculous idea of me pretending to be your boyfriend, supposedly to appease your gold-digging mother. I agreed, with stipulations of my own, but regardless I played along. Yet I ask you to confide in me after all I’ve done for you, and you deny me. What the fuck are you hiding from me Wynter? It’s me. It’s us.”

I look away from him, tears building in my eyes from the hurt I hear in his voice. “It’s much more complicated than you can imagine. Nothing good will come of me telling you the truth. Why can’t you just accept that and let it go.”

A sharp growl escapes him as he once again heads for me. This time I’m quicker, using my legs to push myself further up on the bed, I crawl toward the headboard to get away from the wicked look in his eyes. The look I wanted, I craved but now, no longer understand.

“You don’t get to have both, Princess. It’s your secrets, or me.”

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