Page 150 of Anger

This will never be love.

He’s too damaged.

I’m too damaged as well.

But we can hate each other.

Then again, I’ve heard between the two, there exists the finest of lines.

I’ll be careful never to cross it.

Damon tugs my panties down. They fall off my legs, and I kick them away. His mouth presses to my ear, the heat of his breath sliding down my neck when he says, “Keep the wings, Blue. And I hope your legs are as strong as they look because tonight you’re riding me.”

“That’ll cost you another question.”

His teeth nip at my ear. “You don’t think I already know that? Just be careful what you ask for, Blue. I’m not sure you’ll enjoy the truth.”

I’ll enjoy the questions shutting up in my head.

And maybe once I know, I’ll finally be able to stop thinking about him.

I’ll enjoy that, too.

Gripping one strong hand over my hip, Damon tugs me from the wall and leads me to the small stage set up in the middle of the room. He pushes his jeans and boxer briefs all the way down until they’re bunched up over his boots.

I glance down and smother a gasp that threatens to burst from my lips. The scars are heavier on his thighs, a long one running from his knee down his calf.

Damon stares at me with a blank expression, then takes off his shirt to show me the rest of the scars that cover him.

There must be something in my face that makes him laugh.

“You should see my back. You’ll never accrue enough questions to ask about all of them.”

What has been done to this man?

He sits down on the stage before I can force him to turn around for me to see his story, then he pulls me down so that I straddle his lap, his erection rubbing just where I need it as pleasure bursts through me.

My hands go to his wide shoulders, then I push up with my legs so he can notch the head of his cock at my pussy. Slowly sliding down, I can’t help the moan that escapes to be stretched so thoroughly.

Damon’s hands cup the cheeks of my ass, his eyes sliding down my body to watch my tits bounce when I pull back up and slam down again, my muscles clenching at him until I’m so painfully tight.

This is purely physical, our bodies coming together to scratch an itch that has existed since the first time our eyes met. I’m a fantasy to him. I know that. And he’s a demon to me.

That’s why when his fingers grip my hair with a rough tug, I groan, the pain blending into the pleasure of our bodies coming together hard and fast, my legs burning from the effort of pushing myself up, over and over again to a demanding rhythm he’s setting. His hands on my ass help me lift up to the head of his thick cock, and down the shaft then back to the head again.

I’m so embarrassingly wet, my inner muscles gripping at him, being forced apart by how he fills me. The skin beneath my breasts burns from how hard they bounce, but the pain turns me on.

Using his grip in my hair, he pulls my body back, forcing my spine to arch, his mouth and teeth dragging down from my neck to bite my shoulder, sucking on the skin so hard it’ll bruise.

Moving lower, he does the same to my breasts. His tongue sweeping out to soothe the pain of his marking me.

Damon owns me in this moment.

I can’t deny it.

He uses me.

Maybe I’m using him, too.

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