Page 74 of Aine

No amount of reminding myself that he’s only playing me seems to be doing the trick to end the shameful desire I hold for him. Henry always said all he needed to do was fuck a woman to lose interest. Maybe if I have sex with Damien, these childish feelings will disappear.

I sigh. If I give myself to Damien, I’ll only be further ensnared in his trap. Henry was exceptionally skilled at holding back emotions, and I don’t have it within me to treat sex the same way he did.

Still, I wonder how it would feel to have sex with Damien. He’s so large, and it would probably be painful if he’s not gentle. Henry was half the size of the beast sitting next to me, and even he hurt to take when he was too rough. Licking my lips, I find myself staring at Damien’s hand as I recall how good it felt when he used his fingers.

He was gentle then, giving me time to adjust as he sunk them into me. If he could do the same with his cock, I bet it’d feel amazing.

Shaking my head, I snatch my glass off the table and throw back the contents. I glance toward Damien and choke as I notice the heated stare he sends my way. I bet he can either feel or smell the unwanted arousal that spreads through me like fire, and I pray the others at the table can’t sense it as well.

Damien continues to make conversation with Owen as he plucks the empty glass from my fingers and refills it. It shocks me how he’s able to keep tabs on my every movement while actively engaging in a completely different task.

The three beasts continue to chat and laugh amongst themselves while I sit silently and observe. Occasionally, Damien or Owen will go out of their way to include me, but the conversation naturally drifts back to the three of them rather quickly.

Usually, I’d find offense, but I’m glad not to partake during this particular meal. Plus, Damien’s fingers sliding up and down my inner thigh have me too distracted to pay close attention to what they’re saying, anyway.

I know he’s doing it on purpose, probably finding it funny to tease the shameful arousal out of me.

Damien doesn’t refill my drink when I finish the contents of my third glass, and when I reach for the bottle myself he calmly moves it out of my reach. The action offends me slightly, but I realize it was probably the right call after taking a mental check on my person.

The last thing I need is to get overtly tipsy at this dinner. Damien doesn’t know this, but I’m known to have loose lips after a couple of drinks.

“Excuse me,” I murmur, brushing Damien’s hand off my thigh so I can stand.

Damien looks concerned by my abrupt departure, but his face softens as I jerk my head toward the bathroom to signal my destination. He nods and releases me without hesitation.

It’s good to know he trusts me not to run away. I wasn’t planning on it, but I like having the option.

My steps are a bit unsteady as I escape to the toilets, but I make it there without embarrassing myself. Other than occasional glass here and there, I haven’t really had any alcohol since being executed. My tolerance seems to have taken a bit of a hit in that time.

I sigh as I sit on the toilet to relieve myself, my body truly relaxing for the first time since arriving at the restaurant. That relaxation is short-lived as the sound of Freya’s laughter rings out inside the room.

She says nothing as she lingers near the sink, the occasional clink signaling her presence as I rush to pee and leave the suffocating stall. Did she follow me in here?

Her gaze locks with mine as I push open the toilet door. She seems calm as she leans against the sink, her face and posture relaxed.

“What do you think of Owen?” she asks.

I shrug, already knowing this is some sort of trap. “He seems nice.”

Freya nods, seemingly happy with my answer. “I agree, and cute too.” Her voice rises as a look of excitement spreads across her face. “Would you fuck him?”

I blink, taken aback by her bold question. “What?” I ask, hoping I misheard.

She rolls her eyes and spins to look at herself in the mirror. “If you weren’t mated to Damien, would you want to fuck Owen?”

I remain silent, unsure what she’s looking for me to say. He’s handsome, all the beasts are, but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck him. My interest in beasts is little to none.

“Oh, don’t be so shy. Males never listen to bathroom noises. It’s taboo in our culture. Besides, I’m sure you’ve heard by now how much Damien loves to share his women.” Freya laughs as she stares at me through the reflection of the mirror. “I bet he’d love to pass you around with Owen. I’d be willing to share if you are.”

“I see,” I respond, hoping she’ll lose interest in speaking to me if I keep my answers short.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to mind at all, her mouth opening to spew more words before she’s even had the chance to take a breath. She must have lungs of steel to talk for so long without pause.

“Although he did stop sleeping around after I marked him. The poor guy was so scared of it,” she says, capturing my attention.

FreyamarkedDamien? I’m sure I would’ve heard by now if that were true.

“He didn’t tell you?” Freya asks, leaning toward the mirror and wiping away the smudges of her makeup. “It was my mark he wore up until you overrode it with your own.” With a slight roll of her eyes, she meets my gaze through the glass. “He pretends to detest that I put it on him, but I could feel every time he rubbed it to get off.”

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