Page 27 of Tear Me Down
I know that this is a chance for Damien to stake his claim. Show everyone that I’m his, and what happens when they question that. His possessiveness is not a trait to be taken lightly, and unfortunately, this man is finding that out the hard way.
I glance over at Mr. Hartley, and I don't expect what I find. He’s looking at Damien without an ounce of anger or disappointment—almost approval, and while Damien doesn't notice or care in the slightest right now, I either hope they can talk about this later or never bring it up again. Looking back, I see that Damien has started to slow down. Though the force of his hits hasn't let up, and I can see the bloodied pulp Waylon is from here. The fire from his violence is heating me even through the distance, but I keep my breathing shallow, not wanting to show the entire room how turned on I am.
A small gasp grabs my attention, and I snap my head in Serena’s direction. Her eyes are wide, and her jaw has gone slack, leaving her lips parted in an unbelievable expression. She’s mortified, and that only makes me question my own sanity. While yes, this display is deranged, I also find it hot as hell. I’m sure she’ll have some words to say about it later, but for now, I’m glad she’s keeping her mouth shut—so she doesn’t escalate the already electric room.
Once Waylon finally grows weak enough and doesn’t try to resist anymore, Damien stands and kicks him in the ribcage, stomping fiercely with enough force to jolt his own body. Waylon releases a loud grunt and scrunches into a ball as he clutches his ribs, clearly in a great deal of pain. Would Damien have seriously hurt him? What am I saying, of course he would. Anyone that would be stupid enough to even think about me in a way void of innocence better be tough enough to take the punishment.
At least, that's how Damien thinks.
My man reaches down and grabs him by his neck, dragging him to his feet, even though he’s losing consciousness. That doesn’t matter though, Damien still holds him up like he weighs nothing. He contains him in a firm grip, those tantalizing veins on his forearm popping out to show his strength. The room goes silent, and no one moves. Not even a twitch. The silence is deafening, but my heart is pounding so harshly that I’m almost positive it can be heard across the room.
“Let this be your only warning!” Damien shouts. His loud, commanding voice booms through the silence. “YOU DO NOT DISRESPECT MY WOMAN!” He scans the room, making eye contact with everyone and daring them to argue. I look at him up and down, and he looks just as angry as he didthe day Dust came to Cut Me Down—only somehow hotter. “THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS ROOM WHO HAS AS MUCH AUTHORITY HERE AS ME IS HER!” He points to me with his free arm and finally looks me in the eyes. His pupils are clearly blown, and his chiseled chest heaves with every breath, looking like a feral beast about to pounce. The tension between us is so strong that I’m leaning on my toes, compelled to walk over to him like I’m sleepwalking, and when he breaks the connection to look around again, I release a shaky breath. “She says to kill someone? You do it! She tells you to lay down and die? YOU FUCKING DO IT! AM I CLEAR?!”
“Yes, sir!” The whole room rings with the response, echoing off the walls in a show of complete submission. He then hauls Waylon over towards me, practically dragging him as his legs stumble and refuse to gain any traction. Damien throws him down at my feet and stands above him like a God ready to cast judgement.
“Now apologize to my wife!” Damien demands as he presses his boot into Waylon’s back.
His wife?
Oh my God, I’m going to come.
“I'm…sorry….” The words weakly escape Waylon’s mouth through ragged breaths and wheezing, his chest swells heavily, and he’s clearly having difficulty breathing. Damien reaches down and yanks him back by his hair, standing him on his knees—forcing him to look up at me, like a subject begging for mercy.
“I don’t think she fucking heard you!” Damien spits out, his voice shaking with his anger.
“I'm sorry!” he shouts out, but Damien doesn’t release him yet. He holds Waylon there, as if he’s waiting for something. I look up at him, and the glint in his eyes is something I’ve never seen before: expectation and suspense mixed with submission, all swirling around his perfect blue, kaleidoscope eyes.
He's waiting for my command to him let him go.
Shock begins to take over my features, but I school them. This is the ultimate display for him. Showing everyone, including me, that no one is to ever deny or defy me again. That disrespecting me is an attack against him, and he’s always ready to defend my honor. This is a perfect display of his devoutness, a way to show everyone that in his eyes, everyone else is beneath me, including himself. That he’s nothing but my devotee, a soldier bred for only my command.
I nod my head once, just as he wants me to, and when that devilish, sadistic grin creeps onto his face, my core clenches, threatening to throw me over the edge right here and now. He pushes Waylon forward, shoving the back of his head harshly and releasing him, sending him to the floor with a harsh thud.
“Someone clean him up,” Damien points to Waylon and demands as he steps over him, striding gently like he didn’t want to get his boots dirty. Hewalks up to me, stalking and closing the distance with only one additional, large step before he grabs my hand, and starts pulling me out of the room. I almost whimper with need, hoping and praying that he’s taking me somewhere private.
He all but drags me out, gripping my hand tightly as he leads me away and storms up the stairs towards the viewing room, taking me with him. Vehemence radiates from his body and the energy crackles between us, like lightning shooting back and forth between an invisible barrier. I don’t know what to say to him, though—I don’t know how to react. I should be concerned for that man down there, but right now all I'm concerned about is when he’s going to shove his dick inside me.
As we enter the room, he kicks the door closed behind us and pounces, forcefully grabbing onto my jaw and crashing his lips into mine. The energy around us explodes, swirling through the air like a wicked storm. He grabs my hips in a forceful grip, yanking me close and digging his hard dick into my stomach. His hips start to move, and mine follow of their own accord, grinding into each other like we'll never get the chance again.
A small whimper escapes me as he pulls back and bites down on my bottom lip before we part. He’s still close. So close, that I can feel the caress of his breath on my cheek, but he's too far away all at once. Only about an inch from my now swollen lips, he breathes heavily into my face. A quiver snakes its way in with the hot air.
“Just remember that I love you,” he shakily demands, and I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion.How could I forget that after what he just did downstairs?He moves one hand up my body, teasing the skin on my arm and neck, causing me to shudder. He does the same to my jaw before he fists my hair in his hand and yanks back, forcing me to look at him and coercing a small moan to escape my lips. “Because I’m about to be very disrespectful.” I can’t help but smile, yet tremble in anticipation. At this point, he could do anything to me and I’d beg him for it.
“Please…” I plead, the words a seductive whisper.
“Please what, baby girl? Fuck you? Ravage you? Use you like my whore?” His other hand flies up and grips my jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to know he's serious. “I'm going to prove to every sorry son of a bitch down there that you’re mine.”
“Yes…please…”
“Fuck, I love it when you beg.” He forces his lips on mine once again, attacking me with a searing kiss as he wraps his arm around my hips and lifts me effortlessly. Then he moves us across the room until an ice cold, hard surface presses against the back of my thighs, sending a shock wave through my body and causing me to gasp. He drops me on my own two feet before yanking on my hair again. “Take off your clothes,” he seethes against my lips.
I immediately obey, practically tearing my shirt and bra apart as I take them off—almost doing the same to my shorts and thong while I shove them down my legs and step out of them. As if getting impatient, even with my haste, he growls before kneeling down to remove my shoes and then throws everyarticle of clothing across the room. The loud bang they make when they hit against the wall reverberates through the room, and the noise paired with his intimidating size as he returns to his full height sends a quake through me, wracking my body with need. He then turns me around, unveiling the cold railing set up near the viewing window—the one he must have backed me up against. There is no back wall to this room, only the windows showcasing every inch of the training area.
He moves my hair out of the way and bites down on my shoulder just as he presses his heavy weight against me, pinning me to the metal bar. I yelp and push back against him, feeling his rock-hard cock against my ass. Another whimper slips free form me as he releases his jaw from my skin, leaving the area cold and tingly.
“Stay here.” He says sharp and low, then turns and walks away while I'm left panting. I'm so fucking turned on that I can’t help but clench my thighs together and squirm, desperate for any type of friction. I've heard that a woman could come from imagination or words alone, but I didn't believe it until now.
I hear him rummage through the storage cabinet in the corner of the room and walk back over to me. Each of his steps is another throb to my clit, and holy God, I’m aching. My body moves on its own, thrusting my hips forward in a desperate attempt for any touch. That is, until he plants his hand on my stomach and pulls my lower half back against him, grinding that delicious cock against me again.
