Page 58 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

“You’re not listening Princess. Without you I don’t have a life to live. So whatever happens to you, happens to me because you’re it for me.” He presses his lips to mine, softly. “You’re my Queen and what is a King without his Queen? Nothing.”

18

DAMIEN

“Mom,” Willow whines, pulling off her knitted hat and placing it on her mother’s head. “The doctors said you were doing better—not that you should tempt fate and get a cold.”

Octavia sighs, removing the hat and placing it on Willow’s head. “And your doctors said you were perfectly healthy—not that you should be partially naked in an ice rink.”

Willow snorts, crossing her arms over my jersey, which she wears with a white hoodie underneath and thigh high suede boots that I am going to make her wear when she hops on my dick later. Nothing else, just those boots, or maybe I should fuck her in nothing but my jersey. I’ll just do both, first jersey and boots then just boots. Yeah sounds perfect to me.

“Ladies, ladies.” I smile, sliding a wool hat out of my pocket and handing it to Octivia. “There are enough hats to go around.”

Octivia takes the hat and slides it on her head. “And this is whyDamien is my favorite.”

“Oh yeah?” Willow challenges, giving me a sinister look before continuing to speak. “Did I ever tell you about his ex-”

I wrap my hand quickly around her mouth, a large smile on my face as I pull her against my chest. “You have the tickets right? I just want to steal our little troublemaker for a few minutes.”

Octavia smirks. “By all means go. I finally have an appetite for a hotdog.”

Octavia lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she turns to walk toward the hotdog stand, her boots clicking on the ice. “I’ll be right back, you two lovebirds, don’t get too cozy,” she calls over her shoulder, a teasing grin on her face.

I watch her go, but my attention is quickly stolen by Willow, who’s still in my arms. She gives me one last look of mock exasperation before her lips curl into something more mischievous. Without warning, she sinks her teeth into the palm of my hand.

I freeze, a sharp inhale escaping me from the sudden bite. "Ow, seriously?" I grunt, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous she’s being. But there’s something about the way she does it, with just a little too much bite to it, that makes my pulse quicken.

Willow pulls away, smirking at the faint marks left on my hand. “You deserved it,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes like she's the one in control here.

I narrow my eyes, fighting the grin pulling at my lips. “You’re really gonna regret that.”

“Oh, I doubt it,” she says with a shrug, clearly amused by herself. “I bet you love the idea of me biting you.”

Before I can respond, I lean down, my lips hovering dangerously close to her ear. “I’ll bite you back,” I whisper, my tone low, just for her.

She shudders slightly, but her smirk remains. "Promises, promises," she quips.

She turns to walk away, but I grab her by the waist and pin her against the wall, lowering my lips to her ear. “Do you need a permanent reminder of how well I keep my promises?”

She pouts. “I may forget.”

I snarl and without another word I sink my teeth into the soft flesh, the slight sting of the bite followed by the warm pressure of my lips as I suck the bruise into place.

Willow gasps, her body stiffening for a moment before she shudders against me, her hands pressing into my chest as if to push me away—though I can tell she doesn’t want to. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort is too much for her to hide, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath.

"Damien," she whispers, a little breathless now, her voice trembling. "You’re impossible."

I pull back slightly, letting her catch her breath, but I’m not finished. I trace the spot I just marked with my fingers, my eyes never leaving hers. "Next time I do that it’ll be on your chest, then your thighs and finally your sweet fucking pussy." I say softly, my lips curling into a grin.

Her eyes darken, her lips parting as if to say something else, but she doesn’t. She just stands there, caught in the moment, a mix of frustration and undeniable desire flashing in her eyes.

“Now go upstairs and go be my good luck charm,” I whisper against her lips.

“Damien-” she whimpers.

“Don’t make me have to tell you twice,” I snarl and she whimpers like I just told her I love her. Damn this girl will be the fucking end of me.

“Good luck, Damien,” she smiles, placing a chaste kiss on my lips, before sliding from between the wall and my body.

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