Page 82 of Surviving the Merge
“You know how I feel about you. You’re mine.” Agitation began to set in.
“Do you love me, Damon?”
He’d never verbally said it, and that was always okay with me. I knew why he couldn’t, and Blake told me enough for the both of them.
“Do you love me, Damon?” I repeated.
“Yes,” He pushed out roughly between thinned lips.
“Tell me. Please.”
Again, he attempted to pull away.
I continued laying kisses all over his hand, and he set out unsuccessfully to ball it into a fist.
He looked to the ceiling, “I—”
“No. Look at me.”
He dropped his head down, anger banked behind his eyes. He was resorting to hiding behind his rage.
“Fine. Love you.” Damon’s breathing grew hard; a slight tremble rode down his arm and to his hand. He snatched it out of my grasp, but I still held the other one over my heart.
“Do you feel what those words do to me, Damon?”
His eyes shifted restlessly around the room, but no way could he escape the ramping speed of my pulse under his touch. “Yes, I feel it.” He didn’t seem pleased.
“That’s what those words do to me. I love you, Damon, with everything that I am.”
“This isn’t going to work.” He broke free, backing up until he hit the wall. “It’s too hard.”
“No one said it wouldn’t be.”
“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, trying to stave off a panic attack.
“Ok, we can do that. Can I ask you something?”
He scrutinized me through squinted eyes like one would an enemy.
“You were okay until I asked you to tell me you loved me. Why is that?”
“That required something... more.” His breathing remained choppy, but the trembling stopped soon after he put some distance between us.
“Can you tell me how it made you feel?”
He took a deep breath, stretching his neck. The veins stood out as he tried to remain in control of himself.
“Damon?”
“Exposed.” Rolling his shoulders, he picked up a steady pace. Never a good sign. “Turn off these bright lights. They aren’t helping. And I’m fucking naked!”
Nowhere for him to hide.Would pushing him further backfire?God, I wished I’d asked Julie more questions. Deciding to take the training wheels off, I said, “I love you, Damon.”
“Damn you!” He charged me like a bull. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
His forward momentum sent me backwards until the back of my knees met the bed and I fell onto it. His raging disposition set off my body's trigger for love. But I was stronger than my parts, and I wouldn’t continue to define my relationship through sex and drama. We were going to love each other in a different way even if it killed me.
Damon came over me, snarling. His fists punched into the mattress on either side of my head. He sniffed the air, then looked down at my straining, leaking cock before piercing me with those hard, black eyes. “You don’t deserve my cum in you,” he said. “You’re not worthy.”
