I lift her legs, set the backs of her knees over my shoulders and move inside her. She grunts with my thrusts. I kiss her cheek, her neck. I look at her as she takes my cock.
“It feels good,” she says.
I draw back, just the tip of my cock inside her, punishing myself as I slide my fingers to her clit, rubbing just to watch her come undone. When I can’t take anymore, I lean toward her a little, forcing her legs to bend more, opening her more to drive into her again.
She moans, eyes closing.
I slide the wet tip of my thumb to her asshole and press against it. Her eyes fly open, she’s panting, and when I push into that tight little hole, she cries out. Her walls throb around my cock and I watch her come. Watch how fucking beautiful she is when she does, when she pants my name over and over, something I’m not sure she’s aware she’s doing.
“Damian. Damian. God. Damian.”
“Don’t betray me,” I tell her, then straighten and push her legs wide. I look at her like this, spread open, my cock buried inside her. Her cunt wet and pink, walls still throbbing around me. Pressing her thighs to the table, I can’t take my eyes from her face as I fuck her. I fuck her so hard that I force each breath from her.
I did lie to her once, I think as I’m in the final throes. And when ecstasy comes, when I release inside her, I realize I won’t keep my promise to her. I can’t.
Because I don’t want to let her go.
Because I won’t let her go.
16
Cristina
The smell from the fireplace is stronger than usual this morning, and I wonder if someone got overzealous starting one of the huge fires that warm the house. But when I get downstairs, I realize the fireplace is empty.
I inhale. Smell smoke.
“That was a mistake, Brother,” I hear Lucas say from inside.
I slow my steps, listening as I approach the living room, when I see the soldier standing behind a pillar in the foyer. Actually, it’s not him I see, but the end of his rifle.
I stop because it takes my brain a minute to process that it is a rifle. And when he walks out from behind the pillar to look at me, I realize it’s an automatic.
Seeing them outside is alarming enough. But having them inside the house takes it to a whole other level.
“Damian?” I ask, turning the corner to find him watching me from the dining room. He’s standing with his arm on the mantel of the fireplace. Lucas is seated at the breakfast table and Tobias is looking out into the backyard. Two more armed soldiers stand inside the house by the French doors I used yesterday.
Lucas’s dark gaze is on me as he picks up his mug and drinks from it.
Tobias glances at me, then at Damian.
Damian walks to the table and pulls out my chair.
“Morning,” he says.
“What’s going on?”
Last night after we’d come back to the house, Damian had sent me to my room. I’d had dinner alone upstairs because as soon as we’d returned, Tobias had required his attention. He’d looked even more serious than usual and Damian had been quick to send me away.
It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out something was wrong. Very wrong.
After dinner, I’d fallen asleep before he’d come up. I know he didn’t sleep in my bed, so when I looked into his room this morning, either the maid was very quick to make his bed, or he hadn’t slept there last night either. Had he slept at all? I wonder as I look at him. He’s changed clothes and his hair is wet from a shower, but I don’t miss the shadows that darken his eyes.
I touch my pocket as I take my seat. He must have come into my room while I’d been sleeping, though, because I found the switchblade Michela had given me on the nightstand beside the bed when I’d woken up.
He didn’t take it away. I thought for sure he would.
Unable to avoid Lucas’s gaze any longer, I meet it. I can’t read him at all. I’m getting to know Damian’s moods, but Lucas is like a vault.
Did he really know I was out there when he walked by me in the woods?