Call You Mine (Servite Academy)

Chapter Eleven

DAMON

“ W here are we going?” she asks from the passenger side of my Audi A5 Coupe, a hint of uncertainty in her hushed tone. I bought this baby two years ago, the first paycheck I received after accepting Clarissa’s offer and joining Kingsman. I put a down payment on the apartment the guys and I moved into after graduation, and had enough left over to get me this sexy piece of luxury. A used model of course, but to me it was more than enough.

Sleek leather interiors, a pimped out, touchscreen stereo with LED lights, air conditioning that actually worked and didn't smell like soiled diapers, and heated seats. Oh, those heated seats were worth it. The exterior of the two-door coupe was all black, rims and everything. A dream come true I could only afford with the money I was making working for her.

Not necessarily dirty money, but not exactly legal either. Not that I wasn’t used to it.

This ride was the first thing I ever bought myself with an honest paycheck, not the under the table shit I used to get paid for back in Pleasant Hills, doing whatever odd jobs my buddy Kai’s uncle would hire us to do. His uncle being the President of the Pleasant Hills Cobras, a motorcycle gang that ran their fair share of illegal trades, we were never out of work for long. But Kingsman was a legit business. A front for the illicit labor that would go on behind closed doors but wasn’t everything in this town part of some greater scheme.

I was eighteen making more than enough to set myself up, morals be damned. But when Nico came knocking on my door, my life truly changed. I’d bought myself another car, a newer, more powerful, muscle car, but still preferred to take this beauty out on the road whenever I got the chance.

Today was one of those days where I needed to just hit the pedal and drive. It was soothing to me and I wondered if in a past life I could have possibly been a Formula One champion.

“Damon,” Wynter calls out when I don’t respond to her question. She wears an agitated expression, her anxiousness from not being in control getting the best of her. Wynter’s always been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve even if she refuses to believe it. She may think she wears a mask of indifference but not with me. The girl is so easy to read, at least with me she’s an open book. Though, I find the plot takes a few unforeseen twists and turns, such as the one we’re currently dealing with.

I have yet to figure out what she's scheming, what angle she’s playing in this ruse she’s expecting me to go along with, or what even my role is.

We've been driving for fifteen minutes in dead silence. After the altercation with her mother and brother I should have seen coming, and what I almost let happen again, I needed to put some distance between us and going back to my house right now didn’t seem like the smartest idea.

I have yet to figure out what she's scheming, what angle she’s playing in this ruse she’s expecting me to go along with, or what even my role is.

We've been driving for fifteen minutes in dead silence. After the altercation with her mother and brother I should have seen coming, and what almost happened again between us, I needed to put some distance between us and going back to my house right now didn’t seem like the smartest idea.

I thought about dropping her back at the house and taking off on my own but after what she’d just been through, that seemed like a dick move. Not that she wanted to talk about it, sitting there beside me with her fingers fiddling on her lap and her mouth puckered into a pretty little pout.

“Lean back, put your feet up, and enjoy the ride baby,” I tell her, ignoring the way she’s watching me. I hate the way she looks at me. With a sort of admiration, respect I don’t deserve. Especially after the way I just stood up for her and made our little deal seem all too real.

Without wanting to, I made our relationship seem like it meant so much more to me than I’d originally tried to make her believe.

I hate it because I know the longer she stares at me in that way, with wide eyes full of want, her slick tongue tracing over pink and plump lips, the faster I’ll fall. Falling is not an option where she’s concerned. Not when it’s a fatal fall off the tallest skyscraper in the city. Not when it’s so goddamn appealing even though I know it will mark my demise.

What kind of twisted shit is that?

“But where are we going?” she asks again, this time a tad more uneasy.

Wynter hates when she’s not in control which happens more often than not. Although she always seemed in control of her emotions, behind closed doors there was a puppet-master, pulling all the strings. He’s gone now, but I fear my girl is a creature of habit and somehow fell into the same trap. That’s who she’s running from. Her new puppeteer I will murder with my bare hands once I find him.

“Anywhere we want, Princess.”

She surprises me when she sits back and adjusts her seatbelt, doing as she’s told. Only instead of kicking her feet up on the dash like I expected her to do, she shifts in her seat and throws her legs over the center console, her shiny heels resting in my lap.

The sight of creamy white skin, glittering with some sparkly body oil makes my dick hard, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel to keep from reaching out and caressing her. To keep from claiming her like I so desperately crave. She shimmies in place, the heel of her thousand-dollar shoe digging into my thigh with purpose.

Purposefully trying to drive me fucking mad.

“Princess,” I groan, biting down on the inside of my cheek. “Don’t start something you ain’t planning on finishing.”

A deep, throaty chuckle escapes her lips and my cock fucking twitches at the sound. “Who said anything about me not being willing?” There goes that fucking tongue again.

I take my eyes off the road for a split second and the sight of her relaxed and slightly flushed as her heel presses deeper against my dick, almost painfully good. I nearly hit the brakes, staring at the way her dress dips low revealing a good chunk of cleavage that rises and falls with her heavy breaths.

Calling her bluff, I run my fingers along her soft skin, starting at her ankles and slowly moving up toward the hem of her dress which is now hitched up to her upper thighs. Her breathing turns unsteady, her mouth dropping open as a soft moan leaves her lips. The sight is fucking erotic but the look in her eyes nearly makes me break my composure.

I keep trailing my fingers back and forth across her skin and she wiggles in my lap trying to inch in closer. To feel me, feel the way my body reacts to hers. It’s no surprise she makes me harder than I’ve ever been for anyone else. My girl is a fucking goddess, tightly wrapped in a package of luxury. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met, she’s flawless, tainted on the inside but on the outside pristine and perfect.

One hand on the steering wheel and the other so close to her sweet little cunt, I rev the engine and take a sharp turn toward a back road leading out of the city.

I’m a guy, obviously not above getting hot and heavy in the back seat of my car, but I’m sure as hell not doing that shit on a public road, a block away from where I live.

My fingers inch closer to her sweet center, gripping her thigh and slowly pushing them apart. “Damon,” she moans, her legs falling open as far as they’re able to in this position.

“Behave, Princess.”

She grins, wicked and wanting. “What if I don’t want to?”

Desire floods through my veins at the sexy little smirk that teases her lips. My left hand grips the steering wheel tighter while my right struggles with not pushing inside her.

I swerve sharply, pulling into a vacant alleyway between two abandoned industrial buildings tucked into the edge of the city. I know they’re vacant because we sometimes use them for the larger, private gatherings Kingsman hosts.

Shifting the gear into park, I click my seat belt off and turn so I’m facing her head on. Her dress is tight around her upper thighs, straining as she tries to spread wider for me. Pushing her legs to one side, I reach into the center console, digging a switchblade out from the bottom, and cut the fabric of her skirt in one swift move, being careful not to nip her. My fingers move with quick precision, she doesn’t realize what I’ve done until the fabric falls to the side, revealing a red lace thong pressed against her pussy with a sweet little wet spot.

My tongue snakes out to graze my lips at the sight. I’m so fucking ready to devour her. I can smell her arousal in the air and it’s intoxicating. Wynter notices my response, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she scoots closer to me, bending her knees slightly which only makes her legs fall wider.

The bratty little princess wants to play, only she has no fucking idea what that means.

We’ve fucked once—have almost gotten there a handful of times since—but she has no clue the kinds of things I want from her. The stuff I need her to do for me will tarnish the reputation of a prim and proper princess and turn her into a sultry and sensual little fox. She’s tougher than she looks, and as for that night we were together, I know for damn sure she’s never had a night like that with anyone else.

She obeyed my commands and was so responsive to my touch, always has been. And as goosebumps cover her silky flesh, a mix of arousal and the air conditioning blaring high through the vents, her body remembers. Muscle memory, conditioned to feel everything with just the simple look in my eyes.

“Damon,” she moans, her tone heady and full of need. It matches the heat in her eyes as she watches my fingers flex over the blade I tuck back into the console.

Bringing a finger to her lips, she opens for me, sucking on the tip before taking it fully into her mouth. I groan, “You think you know what you want Wynter, but you don’t have a goddamn clue what I need.” Falling back to reach under my seat, I push the button to adjust the seat and make room for what I’m about to do next. I reach over to unbuckle her seatbelt, pull her legs toward me and grab her hips, tugging her over to straddle me. She yelps at the quick movement, nearly hitting the top of her head as she scoots in closer to me, but she knows to lean her head forward.

She gasps when my thick erection pushes against her cunt, and I can’t help but smirk at how responsive she is. Like I’ve deprived her of the pleasure she seeks since we were together. “Damon, what are you doing?”

Looking around to make sure we’re alone, I dig my fingers into her ass and grind her over my erection, making her moan loudly. “You said you were willing?”

Wynter swivels her hips, moving back and forth to feel the friction between us. “But here?”

“You mean to tell me, Princess, you’ve never messed around in the backseat of a car?”

She doesn’t answer but the pink tint that touches her cheeks gives me my answer. Wynter Servite has never needed to have a make-out session in a car before when she could have easily rented a room or invited a guy over to her mega mansion. Hell, we hooked up in her bedroom at a party at her beach house.

“It’s not ideal, but looking at you like this,” I say, pressing my fingers deeper into her ass, making sure they leave a mark. “Makes me want to stir a little trouble.”

Another now darker tint of pink travels from her cheeks down her neck to her chest, making her porcelain skin a beautiful rosy hue. “I like trouble,” she whimpers, her eyes low and burning with desire.

I lean in closer to her, inhaling the delicious scent of her perfume mixed with the scent of her arousal, and it’s fucking overwhelming me. “Nah, baby,” I murmur against her lips, “You are trouble. Only problem is as much as I try to stay away from trouble, it always seems to find me.”

The last word dies on my lips when she closes the distance between us and crashes her lips to mine with an urgent need. Her knees dig into my waist on either side as her back curves from the intensity of friction against her pussy, but our lips don’t let go. I push my tongue into her mouth tasting every inch of her and she moans in response as her tongue tangles with mine, her hands moving to the buttons of my shirt, and popping them off with a swift tug.

Soft hands fall against my pecs, nails digging into my inked skin with the same force my cock strains in my pants pushing against her.

“Damon please,” she begs, and its music to my fucking ears. This girl is going to be the death of me. She already makes me question every decision I make. Forces me to break every rule I set in place, and all with the simple touch of her lips and feel of her body between my fingertips.

I knew if I touched her again I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, yet here we are, because I couldn’t leave her. I should have driven us home, dropped her off, and left to cool off this burning need for her. Instead, we’re making out in the front seat of my car, in the middle of a vacant alleyway like a pair of horny teenagers who have nowhere else to go.

But doesn’t that just add to the thrill of our forbidden affair?

Unable to wait any longer, Wynter breaks the kiss, her fingers fumbling with the button of my slacks. Popping it open, she reaches for my dick but I grip her wrist stopping her. She lets out a soft giggle, her mouth quirking up at the sides in amusement.

“Nah, baby,” I say, licking my way from her chin, down her neck, to the small dip of cleavage on her chest. “If you put your fingers around my cock, there’s no stopping me from taking you right here, right now. And when I fuck you again,” I pause realizing what I’ve just said and quickly retract my words, “If I fuck you again, it ain’t going to be in a fucking car.”

Her brows furrow, small wrinkles forming in the crease of her eyes as she pouts. Fuck, this girl is fucking beautiful when she’s angry, excited, pouting at me when I won’t give her what she wants. Everything about her is dangerous for me, because of the way my pulse spikes when she bites down on her bottom lip before her tongue snakes out to swipe along the spot she’s dug her teeth into.

“Then why the fuck are we here?” she asks, eliciting a dark chuckle from deep in my chest.

Grabbing the edges of her dress where I cut, I tug it further, tearing the flimsy fabric. Her nipples pucker forcing her to bite her bottom lip again, and my fingers glide down to push the lace of her soaked thong aside.

“All of this just for me?” I ask. She nods but doesn’t speak. She can’t. Not when the only sound that leaves her lips is a song of desire. A song I’ve grown to love only when it’s sung by her. From her lips, in her voice. Like a siren, it’s hypnotizing.

I thrust two fingers inside her, curving them up to reach that sweet spot I can find with my eyes closed, and she lets out a soft moan. There it is, music to my fucking ears. I slide my fingers through her arousal, easily pushing them in deeper with how fucking wet she is for me. My thumb presses against her clit applying the perfect amount of pressure to get her moving, her body aching to find release against my fingers.

Her moans get louder and I know she’s close. “Be a good girl and come for me, Wyn.” She whimpers loudly and moans, closing her eyes but that won’t do. “But keep those eyes on me, baby. I need to see what I do to you. The way your pussy reacts to my command. The way it accepts that it’s mine and only mine.”

My fingers move faster, in and out of her with such intensity I know she’s there, on the edge of ecstasy. The foreplay is quick, we’ve been at it since the moment she stepped foot in my office with her little proposition. Her hands grip my shoulders as her hips move in sync with my fingers pumping inside her. She knows just how to move, and as I keep my thumb pressed against her clit, she nearly cries out in pleasure.

“Oh God, your fingers, Damon. How is it they feel so good, so thick?” She’s fucking breathless, but her movements only quicken, eager to find release. “I won’t be able to take all of you if this is almost too much.”

Eager to test her theory, I push a third finger inside and she practically screams. “Cause your pussy’s so tight baby. So, fucking tight I can just imagine how it’s going to feel strained around my cock. If you’re a good girl and come for me, you won’t have to wait long to find out how much more you can take.”

She throws her head back, her pussy tightening around my fingers as she finds her release. “Damon,” she cries out, and my cock twitches as my name leaves her luscious lips all the while her arousal coats my fingers.

“Just like that, come for me Wynter. Come on my fingers, and I’ll let you come in my mouth and all over my cock, pretty girl.”

She rides her orgasm out, hips moving frantically, pussy still pulsing around my fingers when her phone chimes in her purse still on the seat.

“You gonna get that?” I ask, unable to focus on the woman writhing in my lap when my curiosity is peaked.

She shakes her head. “Only person I care to talk to is in this car,” she says, barely able to catch her breath. She sounds fucking sexy and hearing her say I’m the only thing she cares about right this moment does something to me.

It shouldn’t mean a damn thing, but it does. And I’m equally aroused as I am angry.

Until it pings again. And again. And for a third and fourth time.

I scoff, clucking my tongue as I shake my head. “Sounds like they’re eager to get a hold of you.”

“It’s probably just Willa, pissed we walked out on her like that, or Ace who I much rather never speak to again, or—” Her body grows stiff as a glimpse of panic settles in her eyes before she blinks it away, but I caught it. Eyes shot wide, pupils dilated—the same panic that’s been in there since the day she came back to Hillcrest. The day she showed up on my doorstep covered in blood and bruises. Marked by a monster I still know nothing about.

“Or who else, Wynter?” I demand, blood rushing through me at the idea of someone hurting her again. Or worse. Of someone coming to claim her, claim what I’ve just now decided is mine, and take her away.

“No one,” she whimpers, nearly panting, her nimble fingers fumbling as they try to once again wrap around cock. She’s ignoring me which can only mean she’s hiding something. Trying to use me, use my body, to shield her fear.

“That’s not the way it works, Princess,” I force out between gritted teeth. Her hazy gaze travels up my chest and meets my eyes before she once again tries to look away. But I don’t let her. Reaching for her, I grip her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet mine. I lean forward, my lips resting just below hers in this position with enough space our eyes are still locked on one another. “This is a tit for tat type of situation. You give, you shall receive. You hide shit from me and this little game we’ve got going on…” I let out a lazy chuckle. “It ain’t going to work.”

Shooting my hand down I clasp it around her wrist, forcefully halting her movements. It pains me. My cocks throbbing, aching to feel her fingers, her warm mouth, to get inside her. But the anger rising inside me like molten lava, burning through already flammable energy within, is too strong to ignore. She’s fucking lying to me. I can feel her pulse thrumming in her wrists, visible in the veins of her neck.

Wynter rolls her eyes annoyed like she has the fucking right to be. Like I’m the asshole who’s being difficult.

I’m done with her games. If she doesn't want to confide in me, then my dick won’t be getting anywhere near her. “Goddammit Wynter, I told you not to fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not…” She says but I interrupt her, again grabbing her chin between my fingers, only this time with much more force.

“Damon,” she calls out. “You’re hurting me.” The ache in her voice almost snaps me out of my fury but I’m too taken aback by how much she affects me.

My other hand, still wrapped around her wrist as she struggles to make me release her. “Baby, you forget I know everything about you.” Cupping her face in my palm, I trace her red and swollen bottom lip with my thumb, sensitive and soft skin under my calloused fingertip. “The way you look when you’re scared. How your body shivers when I touch you. The way your mouth parts and eyes roll back when you come for me.”

She moans breathless and almost in pain as her hips once again roll above my lap. I grunt, trying to keep her still.

“Damon, please. I’m begging you. Touch me.”

“Tell me who is calling you, baby, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes as she fights with herself, not knowing which choice to make. She wants this, wants us, wants me, at least enough to make her come. But she also wants to keep her secrets safe from me, from others maybe. Wynter was raised to keep quiet. To keep secrets, avoid questions, and look the other way when she knew things weren’t right.

It’s hard for her to open up now. Rightfully so, but how can I make her see that she can trust me? I’ll keep her safe so long as she’s mine, and there’s no doubt about it.

She. Is. Mine.

Rolling her eyes she climbs off of me, settling back onto the passenger seat, practically naked since her dress is a tattered mess. Grabbing her purse, she digs her phone out and the moment she unlocks the thing, her face goes pale. White, like a fucking ghost.

I lean forward trying to catch a sight of the screen in my periphery, but she quickly jams it back into the bag. Only not quick enough. I caught one thing. One thing that is making my blood boil, rage consuming me so quickly I can feel the fire in my breath.

The signature. XOXO, E.

What the fuck?

“Who the fuck was that, Princess?” I growl, and she visibly shivers in fear.

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes flicker between me and her fingers twiddling in her lap. “No one.”

“Bullshit. I’m going to ask you once more Wynter, and I swear to God you better think twice before you lie to me again. Who the fuck is sending you a kiss like some lovesick fucker?”

She turns abruptly to face me, her eyes wide and mouthing gaping in shock. Yeah baby, I saw it. “I said it was no one. Now drop it because you're wasting your breath.”

Maniacal laughter echoes in the car, making her so much more anxious than she was. Oh no baby, this isn’t how we play. “You ain’t gonna tell me then? Fine.”

Wynter thinks she can play me again, she’s oh so fucking wrong. She's the one who left, the one who’s always been cagey, jumpy when I ask her questions she doesn’t want to answer. She showed up on my doorstep after a fucking year, covered in blood, full of bruises and cuts made at the hand of another, one she refuses to tell me about, and I can’t help but think he’s the one who texting her. Sending her fucking kisses like a pussy whipped bastard.

I’m the one who implemented the no sex rule, on the stupid contract I forced myself to make after accepting her ridiculous offer. All because I knew if I didn’t, I’d be powerless against her. Like I always have been. And here I am, the first one about to break the goddamn rule, giving her all the power. I don’t share power—I wield it. And no pussy, no matter how rich or how fucking perfect, is going to make me relinquish it, again.

“That’s it?” She asks, obviously shocked I didn’t push the matter further. Her body relaxes, but that hint of fear still sits deep inside her. She’s not as good at masking her emotions as she once was. Not when she feels so much deeper now.

I lean over her, taking the seat belt and clicking it on. I tug at it to secure it, and I know it cuts into her neck when I do. She winces, a drop of blood seeps over the black fabric staining it a darker color, but she doesn’t make a sound.

I cup her pussy in my palm, my thumb pushing against her clit once last time. “Sure, you wanna keep secrets, Princess? Wanna be a big girl and handle shit all on your own? Then be my fucking guest. I sure hope you can make yourself come on your own as well, cause unless you trust me and start answering my questions when I ask them, you’re going to be in charge of giving yourself orgasms too.”