Page 81 of Obsession

The valet pulls up, and I plop in the passenger seat. “Damion, is this the future if I’m with you?” I say aloud, as this fight deserves to be waged verbally. “Me having to constantly defend our relationship from obsessed she-demons? Women throwing themselves at you right in front of me? Is being disrespected just part of the deal? Because it’s exhausting, and quite frankly, I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“We’ve dealt with our fair share of bullshit from your ex-boyfriends,” he growls.

“Ex-boyfriend. Singular. Todd I’ll own up to, but psycho Brad was not my boyfriend!”

“Pointing out the fact that Brad is a psycho still doesn’t help your case!” Taking a deep breath, he calmly continues, “Aubry, you involved yourself with someone who turned out later to be a mistake. Cut me some slack, because it’s no different here.” An excellent point, but I’m too pissed off at the moment to admit it.

“I didn’t break up with you and fuck a guy, only to have him throw it back in your face. There’s the difference.” We’re back at the shop, and I slam my car door and storm off to our private entrance.

I stomp up the stairs to my room, only to find Damion’s beat me there. He grabs me, and I’m not sure if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer as he kisses me violently, our tongues clashing in battle. His eyes glow with power and that delicious scent of his surrounds me. I want to yell at him and tell him to hit the road. I want him to feel this awful pain that I feel, but my desire for him wins out.

We continue this fight with our tongues and teeth, and suddenly we’re on the floor and our clothes are gone. Climbing on top of him and turning around on my knees so my back is to him, I slam down hard on his cock, taking the full length of him inside me. It borderline hurts, but I’m beyond caring at the moment. He makes a strangled noise as I vent my frustration, riding him hard reverse cowgirl. His hands move to my hips to slow me down, but I buck against his grip.

He growls as he grabs a handful of my hair and jerks the upper half of my body down to his chest. My knees are straddling his legs and my back is on his chest, like the sexual version of the reclined hero pose. “Glad you’re keeping up with your yoga practice.”

He reaches his hands around me and cups my breasts as he slowly thrusts upward into me. Snaking his right hand down, he begins stroking his sigil; the skin around it warms to his touch. “Oh, Goddess,” I moan as he rolls my nipples with his phantom touch.

“Not the Goddess. The devil.” I would laugh, but I’m unable to at the moment because he’s moved his hand over that last little inch. Stroking my clit in rhythm to his thrusts, he says, “Mmmm, I’ve missed my wanton witch.”

“Damion,” I pant, over and over, chanting, like a spell. My little whimpers of pleasure coaxing him to thrust faster.

“I’m not going to be able to last much longer,” he groans, sending a pulsating sensation deep inside me, hitting just the right spot over and over again. “Come with me,” he commands, thrusting harder, still working my clit with the pads of his fingers. “I love to feel it when you come. It’s the sexiest fucking thing.”

Even mad at him, my body still complies. I cry out, my orgasm seeming to go on and on forever, as I feel him come inside me with a low guttural sound.

“I might be stuck in this position,” I admit after I catch my breath.

“A rather compromising position.”

“Hush and help me up.” He gives me a little boost as I lift up on my knees, extricating myself from him. Evidence of our angry fuck leaks down my leg, and Damion’s now standing before me holding a washcloth. He falls to his knees, looking up at me with a loving smile as he carefully cleans me. Leaning in, he tenderly kisses his sigil.

It’s too intimate, too overwhelming. I back away, walking to my dresser, needing some distance between us. Grabbing a shirt, I throw it on, immediately berating myself for not being able to keep my panties on around this Cambion. I’m still hurt and angry with him. It might not be fair, but that’s just the way I feel.

Damion looks somewhat disappointed as he walks to the bathroom to clean himself up. I hear B.B. meowing at the door; opening it for her, I scoop her up in my arms. “Hey, I’m okay,” I say, giving her a nuzzle.

Damion returns dressed, stopping short. “You have a cat?”

“You missed quite a bit while you were busy being a jackass. This is B.B.”

“Hello, B.B. I remember you.” He gives my cat a head scratch and she purrs like an engine. “I don’t want to leave, but I need to put in some prep time for an emergency hearing tomorrow. Are we okay?” he asks, straightening his tie.

“I want us to be okay.”

“I’ll take that. For now.” He touches my cheek. “Can I come back over later tonight?”

“Not tonight.”

He lets out a growl of frustration, grabbing my chin and drilling me with his glowing eyes. B.B. hops down and scurries under the bed. “Know this—you are mine. You don’t get out of being mine just because things aren’t all roses.” He pulls a rose from behind my ear and hands it to me.

“You no longer have the moral high ground to tease me about my puns,” I inform him, but he’s already gone.

I’m busy the next day dealing with vendor problem, followed by a customer who wanted to return a voodoo doll because it didn’t “work.” I gave the lady a refund just to get her out of my shop.

The good thing is I’m so busy I don’t have time to think about last night. Alright, that’s a lie. It’s all I can think about.

Last night’s dinner and subsequent floor gymnastics has stirred up a hornet’s nest of emotions.

I love him.

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