Page 98 of Surviving the Merge
“That night happened so long ago. Are you really not past it yet?” Tristan had asked, innocently.
I’d gotten in his face, and it felt good to look down on him. “Am I past walking into myhusband’sdorm room to find you on your knees choking on his dick like a fucking amateur? No, I’m not.” I shook my head to rid it of the memory.
Damon eventually joined me, barefoot, his jacket removed. He held an array of items in his hands: three dildos—in various sizes—rope, candles, a lighter, a cock ring, a spreader bar, and, lastly, lube. Thunder screamed, and lightning scurried across the inky sky, adding a measure of severity to the dark atmosphere. The windows did little to insulate us from the pervasive sound.
Damon lined up his items along the bare wooden table. “Your voice gets huskier when you’re angry. Swollen. That’s the word I’d use to describe how it sounds. I bet if I felt around, I would find something else on you that I could apply that word to.”
“Damon—”
“Don’t tell me that you want me to stop because we both know that would be a lie, and tonight, I need honesty from you. When you tell me it’s too much, I need you to mean it. Because I won’t be able to gauge what you can and can’t take. Not tonight. Not this time.”
Damon refused the date with Tristan, even when doing so would look badly on the center, throwing its integrity into question. The whole ordeal dredged up old feelings, insecurities and coping mechanisms that I didn’t want to fall back on. My head wasn’t clear enough to distinguish why I needed what Damon was offering. That scared me. I didn’t want to jeopardize our recovery. I wouldn’t allow Tristan that power. Damon waited, watching my struggle.
“Allow yourself to have this,” he whispered. “Don’t think. We’ll pick up the pieces after.”
I took a shaky breath and nodded, trusting him to know better than me right then. Damon grabbed my shirt at the center of the neckline and ripped it away from me. My lips parted on a sharp intake of air.
“You need me to restore the balance between us,” Damon said. “You need to know that I am the one who does the conquering.”
My trousers and everything else between met a similar fate. Towering above me, he vowed, “When I’m through with you tomorrow morning.” He paused to lick a trail from my chin to temple. Acknowledging my wide eyes, he confirmed, “Yes, this will take all night. It will be thorough, and it’ll be extreme. When I’m through with you, there will be no doubt in your mind that I would never betray you with another.”
“I don’t think—”
“Yes, you do,” he said, with a finger against my lips. “I know you, my little lamb. He never meant anything to me. I didn’t know he existed because I was too consumed with you. I couldn’t smell his interest because my nose was so far up in you—literally and figuratively.”
He gripped my hair, taking a deep inhale from my neck to behind my ear. I shivered.
“You were the only one I saw in that sea of people tonight. I didn’t understand who he was even after he’d said his name. Your soul, your heart, the light that shines from within you is my beacon. It brings me home. Fucking someone else is simply not an option for me. It’s an impossibility. Do youhearme?” His fingers tightened as his passion intensified.
“Yes.” I swallowed. I felt drugged, as loose as liquid from his words of reassurance. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel bad for needing them. Not tonight. Like Damon said, we’d pick up the piecesafter.
“When I give my loyalty, it’sinfinite, and you’ve had it since the day I laid eyes on you. You’ll have it until I’m here no more. I live for you, and I would die for you.Onlyyou.”
He stepped back, undoing his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. It became abundantly clear I would be the only one unclothed. That knowledge made me feel more naked than standing there naked did.
“When the sun rises, and I have to carry you from this room, up those stairs, and lay you in our bed, you’ll once again know who you are, andwhoseyou are.”
Hands flexing at his sides, he watched as the drop of clear fluid that pierced through my engorged tip traveled down my shaft. His cock swelled even further along his thigh: so long, so fat. His gaze flicked to mine, and the moonlight glinted off his blown pupils, casting light on his hunger. His need. I quivered.“Please...”
“Back flat on the wood, arms raised above your head, feet spread flat along the edge,” he commanded.
* * *
“Whose are you?”
“I’m yours.”
“And whose am I?”
“You’re mine.”
That was the last thing I remembered from that morning, asked of me by Damon as he untied my wrists and ankles from the table.
Three weeks, two days, and six hours had passed since then. I’d never forget because after the most erotic night of my life, I experienced one of my most terrifying mornings.
A shrill noise in my ear had startled me out of my sleep. I grunted, sitting up, wondering why I was getting a call at all. Disoriented, I glanced at the clock. After noting the late morning hour, I remembered that Damon and I had not too long ago gone to bed, after having been up all night.
Damon covered his head with a pillow while I blindly reached out in search of the offending phone. A number I didn’t recognize. “Hello…” I said carefully, instincts screaming at me:this can’t be good.
