Page 62 of Shattered Diamonds

“Spread your legs farther apart.” I feel him shift behind me. “I want to hear you say yes.”

I stay silent because the fear of rejection weighs heavy. What if this is a sick joke?

Whack!

“Eight. Thank you, sir,” I whisper, emotionally surrendering as fresh tears roll over the curve of my lip. The emotional rollercoaster from him demanding I marry him, to the virgin skin of my behind being tormented and tantalized, to the way he makes me feel, to the unknown of what’s to come. It’s all wreaking havoc on my body and mind, sending my thoughts into a space it has never gone before.

“This luscious ass of yours will be the death of me.” He grips both cheeks with his hands, spreading me.

I tense when I feel the pad of his finger run down the seam, stopping at a place he has never touched before. The sound of his zipper forces me to open my eyes, but my sight stays on the small pattern weaved into the material on the couch as I wait for his next move. I feel hazy. In a fog. But I still struggle to release my hands, wanting to be free, needing to be able to dig my nails into something.

“Not so fast, firefly.”

“Sir.” I know better than to push him anymore by using his first name. I’ve goaded him every time I’ve used it. It was my small way of showing some kind of defiance against a challenging man. Pushing back against a powerful man who demands he be treated as if he is a God is foolish. But isn’t the power he exudes what I am attracted to the most?

“Good girl.” The warmth of his hand on my back relaxes me. His fingers disappear and the blunt head of cock slides up and down through my lips. I tense and wait for the intrusion. It never comes. His fingers slide around my neck. He lifts my upper half from the couch, turns me to face him, and pushes me down to my knees. “I want my cock down my fiancée’s throat.” His hand cups my chin while the pad of his thumb runs over my bottom lip. “Say it.” He gazes down at me with unrelenting determination. “Say it, Haven.”

I gaze up at him through heavy lids. “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl.” More tears drip from my lower lashes. “Do not cry, firefly. What you are feeling is normal.” His thumb runs over the swell of my cheek as he watches me from above. “Your tears make me feel compelled to fuck you right here. To take what I’ve been given on a silver platter. If I was a weaker man, someone with no self-control, I would.” His eyes flicker over mine. “I won’t. Not here. I want you in my bed. Now open that pretty mouth and take me in like the good girl I knew you were from the first day I met you.”

He has done what he has set out to do. He broke me.

I unhinge my jaw, part my lips, and willingly push my tongue out over my bottom lip. An offering bed of soft muscle waiting for his hard cock.

His hand slides around my head and grips the hair at the nape of my neck. There’s a cruel grin that hides beneath his obsidian beard. He steps up to me and grabs his extensive shaft, lifting it to my mouth. He teases my upper lip with his glistening head. Then he rubs the cum that has betrayed his control and seeped out down the center of my tongue before bringing it back to the soft skin of my upper lip. His gaze hasn’t left mine. I notice his pupils have expanded and his eyes shine with a yearning that’s intimidating. It’s not a hardship to take this man into my mouth. I have done it once before, but I know this time will be much different and that thought starts to overwhelm me.

“Please, sir,” I beg, impatient for what’s to come.

With my hands bound at my back, my knees screaming from the pressure against the hardwood floor, my tongue stretched in waiting, and my heart full, I close my eyes and wait for his full intrusion.

The hair at the base of my neck screams to be released. My throat begs for mercy, but my ego makes me challenge myself. I cough and choke, and spit flows down my chin as I take what he gives me. The small grunts I’m privileged to hear Demetri make urge me to take him in more. He is not gentle or even nice. This is ruthless and raw. There is a finish line and Demetri is callously thrusting his way to it.

My head hangs from exhaustion. The once wet tears on my face are now dried black stains. The heaviness my body feels makes me shift my weight from my aching knees to my sore behind. I lean my weight against the back of the couch to give my body some relief. Demetri stands one foot in front of me, collecting himself. I note his fisted hand jammed against the frame of the couch, bracing himself. His knees are bent from weakness and his breathing is still heavy, but his gaze… his gaze is firmly on me. There was a morsel of a moment when his release took over and barreled down his veined shaft before his eyes closed and his cum coated my throat that I saw a different man before me as he emptied himself. When I swallowed what he gave me and licked my lips in thanks, approval gleamed from behind his hooded gaze. In that flash of a second, I saw a different man.

ChapterTwenty-Two

HAVEN

His keys are carelessly droppedin a bowl sitting on an entryway table when we enter his home. Cujo the black panther he calls a dog greets us, sniffing me over. Demetri pats Thor on his head and gives him a command. He strides on his four legs over to the kitchen and gets a drink. Demetri follows his lead with me in tow.

I’m a little thrown off by the fact that he brought me here and not home, or to the place I’m temporarily calling home while we are in the States. Then with that thought, I think about my future. I am now Demetri’s fiancée. My insides are giddy, but my head is not. I won’t be going back home when Cillian decides it’s time for him to head back to Ireland. I’ll have no one here, no family in the States, no cousin or bodyguard to turn to.

I watch Demetri move around his space. He grabs something out of the refrigerator that’s wrapped in brown paper. I watch as he starts to cut up a raw steak. He mixes it with some cooked brown rice and blueberries. Thor sits, patiently waiting for his food.

“What are you thinking?”

I find him watching me as I’m watching him. “Are you going to feed him that raw meat?”

“He’s mostly on a raw food diet.” He grabs Thor’s bowl and starts mixing it all together. “Sedersi.” He looks to Thor who sits at his command.

“So, he too is ruthless like his father?” It’s not a statement and Demetri knows it when all he does is grin. “Do you speak full Italian?” I sit on the counter stool and watch him, thinking about how he cares for his dog.

“I do.”

“Are you full Italian?”

“No.” He sets Thor’s bowl in an elevated stand and gives him a pat on the head before turning to me. “Come. We both need showers,” he states instead of explaining what other nationality he is.

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