Call You Mine (Servite Academy)

Chapter Seventeen

WYNTER

M y blood is boiling, my eyes burn as the tears I’ve tried so hard to hold back push their way out, salt streaming down my cheeks and falling against my lips. I want to scream yet I know it will be no use.

Willa is a monster, just as bad if not worse than the men I’ve lived my life afraid of. Because she’s choosing to do all of this out of her own selfish needs. My fathers’, yes plural, did everything in order to maintain their power and prestige of the Servite name, and although in the end their efforts were in vain, we were at one point, untouchable.

Then there is Enzo who did everything out of pure vengeance. If Wesley had not crossed him, then he’d no need to come after me as retribution. But he came to avenge his cousin's death at the hands of my father. Wesley’s mistake was not caring who would pay the consequences of his wickedness. Though even if he had contemplated who would be blamed for it all, Wesley and I had no sort of relationship. He was a careless man, worse than that he was a stranger who ruled like a tyrant in my household. So of course I tried my best to avoid him at all costs and luckily he was too invested in training my brother and his friends to take over the reins of his self-made empire—though ironically in the end it was my brother who burned it down.

But Willa, she’s torturing me simply to secure her own future and maintain the life she’s been accustomed to since marrying Warren for his money.

“Wynter, is everything okay?” Jade asks, startling me as she rests a hand upon my shoulder. I look around and notice everyone has gone back to their own conversations, Big Sal back in his position at the far end of the room by the exit, and Willa nowhere to be seen. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to see if you needed anything. That was a pretty intense moment with your mom.”

I inconspicuously turn away from her and wipe the tears off my face, foolishly pretending like I wasn’t just crying and instead have gotten something in my eye. “I’m fine, it was nothing really, just Willa being Willa. I’ll get back to work now. Sorry about her showing up like that, it won’t happen again.”

Jade scoffs, pouring me a glass of water and handing it to me. “Wyn, don’t apologize for her childish behavior. She’s the mom, not the other way around.” I can’t help but laugh at her insinuation that Willa has but one motherly bone in her body.

As far as I know, Jade’s mom died when she was younger. When Scarlett and her came to Hillcrest Hills and joined Servite Academy in our senior year, they’d been abandoned by Jade’s father and her stepmom who was Scarlett’s mom. The two lovebirds had apparently gone on some Bonnie and Clyde style heist and were on the run for armed robbery on top of claims of murdering the mayor.

I only knew because it was all Wesley talked about for months after the two of them arrived. Family dinners with him were excruciatingly tedious.

“That’s the thing Jade,” I tell her, trying not to meet her gaze since all of this is making me terribly uncomfortable. “Willa has no clue what being a mother means.” Not wanting this conversation to go any further into therapy session territory, or to make Jade think of her own mother, I set my glass down and wipe my hands on my shorts. “Anyway, thanks. I’ll get back to work.” And just like that, conversion is over. However, when I turn away, Sebastian walks up to the counter, his tall frame so broad he hides the two tables behind him from our view. I’d almost forgotten how huge he was.

“They serve anything good in this joint?” he teases, flashing us one of his captivating ear-to-ear grins. Sebastian Silver is stunning, always has been though he was more like a brother in my eyes since we practically grew up together. Tonight, dressed in a navy dress shirt and matching slacks, is no exception. He looks like he’s just finished his shift at his corporate job in the finance district instead of being the owner of a bar, although he has a day job in which he does—honestly I’m not even sure what it is he does.

All I know is that his father, Stephan Silver, also had all his assets frozen when his greed finally caught up to him and his corruption came to light. Not to mention all his companies were audited once he was taken to prison for fraud, kidnapping, and attempted murdered to name a few of his crimes. The Silver Estate where Bass and Stella grew up remained under Stephan’s name until recently. Once he gained access to the deed, Sebastian had the entire place gutted and rebuilt—though unlike Ace, who has almost completed the sale of my childhood home, Bass not only completed the renovations in time to host Stella’s wedding, but gifted it to her as a wedding present. It must have been very therapeutic to watch how his home was turned into nothing but rubble. Not like he needed the mansion or money from the sale—nor the haunting memories of his and Stella's time there.

I think it’s nice of him to give his cousin a fresh start after her time with Stephan was a complete nightmare.

Jade leans over the bar counter to meet him. “For you, anything baby,” she coos, her arms wrapping around his neck as her mouth crashes down on his in a hot and passionate kiss that makes the patrons sitting along the bar and tables behind him to cheer.

Jade laughs, releasing his lips though her arms remain tightly wrapped around his neck. “It’s good to see you too, baby,” he whispers against her lips, loud enough for me to hear a mere two feet away.

“Gross guys, this is a respectable establishment where our customers come to eat delicious cuisine and indulge in our decadent premium cocktails. When they heard there’d be dinner and a show, I’m not sure that’s what they had in mind.”

“They should know what to expect,” Bass says, giving me a little wink before he blows a kiss to Jade who looks like she’s about to hop over the bar and mount her man here and now. “Do I look like a man that can keep his hands off his woman?”

“Anyway,” I quickly say to change the subject before Jade does just that and makes me wish Damon would walk in right now and allow me to do the same. I mean he would have to right? There’s no way he could walk in here and say hi to his girlfriend in front of his best friend without at least a kiss.

Knowing Damon, he’d blame it on not wanting to engage in any PDA just as long as he didn’t have to get his hands on me.

“How’s Stella doing? Last I heard baby Ember was doing better?” I ask, hoping to get some good news. After Stella’s wedding last month, I’d learned they had to postpone their plans when Stella was put on bedrest six months into her pregnancy because of high blood pressure amongst other circulatory issues. Two months later, she went into labor and had Ember at thirty-six weeks. After spending a month in the NICU because of some heart palpitations, baby Ember had been released but wasn’t fully meeting the weight and height percentile for her age.

“She’s better,” Bass says, his expression slightly shifting as if he’s also not one hundred percent sure himself. “They had a small scare earlier this week when she got a pretty high fever which almost caused a seizure.”

“Luckily they caught it in time,” Jade adds, my worry fading away as she assures me she’s okay. “The twins love going to see her. They’re obsessed with her and keep asking us for a baby sister just like baby Ember.”

I smile imagining how precious another baby from these two would be. Onyx and Sapphire, Bass and Jade’s twins, are the same age as my niece Caeli. I haven’t seen either of them in so long. The last time I had, they were the cutest little pair of angels. Their hair was just as blond as Jade’s although Bass’s hair is almost black, though they took after his gray-blue eyes instead of Jade’s green ones.

Regardless they were so precious but there was no doubt about that given their parents both look the way they do.

Unable to handle their PDA any longer, I roll my eyes and move toward an older gentleman who’s sat down at one of the empty stools to our left. Leaving Jade and Bass to continue doing whatever they were going to do, I reach for an empty glass and look up at the man in front of me.

“What can I get for you sir?” I ask, flaunting my everything's a-okay smile.

The man looks up from his phone, bold brown eyes scrutinizing as they roam over my body in a lewd, spin-chilling way. “Hmm,” he mutters, licking his lips. The motion makes his eyes crease at the edges, revealing his age which is more than I’d first thought. He’s in his fifties at least, his hair now more salt than pepper, and his skin is not only incredibly tanned but you can see the effects of years of no sun protection. “Well, the night is certainly looking up,” he mutters, years of smoking heard in his tone. Not to mention he reeks of cigar smoke and that ancient cologne nobody should have ever used.

This is the kind of man I found myself surrounded by for the last two years. The men who worked for Enzo, or were part of his Famiglia, were just like him if not worse because I knew they were murderers and the worst of criminals. Though this guy doesn’t seem like an upstanding citizen.

The man licks his lips, almost like he’s ready to go in for a taste of fresh meat he’s set his sight on. It’s truly revolting and makes me suddenly feel sick to my stomach.

So much for being friendly. This is exactly why women are constantly reprimanded and blamed for their “enticing nature”. All I did was smile at the fucker and now some asshole in a suit somewhere is going to tell me I deserved it because, Larry here—that’s what I named him—said I was flirting with him.

I choose to ignore his glances and continue to treat him like I would any other customer. “Tonight's special is an Old Fashioned with a twist of amaretto, cinnamon and rosemary.”

Larry cracks his knuckles and leans back in his stool. “I’ll have whatever you make so long as I get to enjoy it by your side,” he says, and my skin crawls in disgust. Though before I can even respond to the old fuckers advances, my phone vibrates in my back pocket.

Glad for the distraction which comes at the perfect time, I raise a finger at Larry and reach into my back pocket for my phone to check the incoming message. My heart drops when I look at the screen and see the same number which has haunted my nightmares for the last few months.

Suddenly having a conversation with Larry is looking slightly more appealing than facing my tormentor.

2124173422: Looks like mommy isn’t as easy to get rid of as I was. Careful Snow, once a killer, always a killer. See you soon, carina. - E

My stomach sinks to my feet, paranoia getting the best of me as my eyes flicker back and forth across the room in desperation. Fear trickles down my spine, my jaw tightens, my body is vibrating in panic, and my bones feel like I’ve suddenly been turned into overcooked spaghetti.

He’s here, he’s watching me—or at least he has someone doing his dirty work to know that I just had a terrible conversation with my mother. My gaze flicks back to Larry who now looks incredibly more suspicious that he did just two minutes ago.

Fucking Larry. Is this his new puppet? The man now doing his dirty work for him? Seems implausible but then again, anything is possible with Enzo. I learned that the hard way. Though Larry takes my staring at him in a totally perverted way, insinuating I’m suddenly into this, which I’m not.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I reach for Jeremy, grab him by the arm and tug him toward me. “Jeremy will take care of your needs, Larry,” I say, hearing the man mutter his name is Fausto, before I disappear into the restroom.

The restroom is of course just as beautiful as the rest of the place, but right now, all I can see are blurry patterns on the tiles along the wall. I gape at my reflection in the large mirrors hung up on the wall above the sinks watching as my bloodshot eyes reflect the fear and panic coursing through me.

Turning on the faucet, I splash my face with water, quickly grabbing a paper towel to dry it when I hear someone come in. I jump, jolting back as I turn around to face them, my ass hitting the sink making me squeal in pain.

“Fuck,” I squeal, when I realize it’s only Jade and not Fausto or Enzo who’ve come after me.

Jade watches me quizzically, worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Wyn, is everything okay? I saw you run in here...”

“Yup, I’m fine,” I mutter, interrupting her. “Just felt a little warm. Think I might come down with something, yeah that’s it. I’m getting sick. I’ll have to take that break after all.” I lie through my teeth, but it’s the only thing I can think of saying without completely losing my shit.

“Yeah of course, are you sure you’re okay? Was it that pervy old man at the bar? I can get Big Sal to take him out if he’s harassing you.”

“No, it’s fine, I don’t need Big Sal kicking anyone else out on my account. I would monitor him though, he seems like a total creep, but I’m just not feeling so great.”

“Okay, if you say you're fine, I’ll leave you alone. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off, Jeremy and I can handle it. Besides, Bass is here now. I'll have him jump behind the bar if it gets too busy.”

“Thanks Jade, I think I will head out. Maybe get some sleep.”

I move around her to walk out of the restroom before she asks any more questions, but before I exit, her hand comes up to my shoulder once more. “Just so you know, Wyn, you can come to me if you ever need to talk. I know we haven’t had the best relationship in the past, or frankly any kind of friendship. Honestly, I used to believe you were a total bitch,” she laughs and I can’t help but join her.

“To be fair, I kind of was. Not saying I’m not anymore, but the last few years have sure humbled me.”

Isn’t that the truth? So much for being untouchable and at the top of whatever social pyramid I claimed to rule over. Even the best of us can be taken down the bogus pedestals we’re placed on.

“And it’s not just because you’re Ace’s sister and he’s married to my sister, or because you’re dating one of my best friends,” Jade continues, “But I really feel like we could be friends if we gave it a chance. So I just want you to know you can come to me if you ever need to talk. I may not be open to discussing your sex life with Drake, but girl problem, I’m a pro at it.”

The mention of Damon and I having a sex life makes me wither away. If only.

The moment I left the bar, I honestly thought the feeling of dread that was overwhelming me would disappear but if anything it only grew stronger. Especially when I got into the Uber and tried calling Luke at the last number I had for him.

I needed to clear the air, needed him to assure me that Enzo was in fact dead and this was just someone, one of his men most likely, who was trying to play an awful trick on me. Payback for killing him or some other twisted game they liked to play. Though when Luke didn’t answer me, all of that dread and doubt I felt doubled, and my body threatened to give out on me. I need to sleep. That will help me center myself and allow me to come up with what my next move will be.

Everything I’m dealing with has become more than I can handle. Between Willa breathing down my neck to get her the money she requires getting out of my life, to Enzo’s threats and taunting along with the reminder of what I did. Not to mention this idiotic plan to get Damon to not only continue the ruse of being my fake boyfriend I started, but to actually convince him that this between us should be real. And now I can’t get a hold of Luke, the only other person who knows what happened to me back in New York.

I'm past the point of having a mental breakdown and there is only one person, one way in which I can find release. Only he can soothe the uncertainty within me, though right now he’s the one person I can’t go to. Damon’s been avoiding me, and after what happened earlier today between us by the pool, I know it’s hopeless to keep trying.

I didn’t bother changing when I got home from the bar and am lying down on my bed with my eyes closed, trying to calm myself though it’s no use. My heart is still racing, my limbs feel as if they’re vibrating and my mind is buzzing with unfiltered energy.

“Deep breaths Wynter,” I murmur to myself, trying to remember some meditation techniques I learned from the yoga instructor my mom was having an affair with when I was sixteen. It didn’t last long, she moved onto her Pilates instructor shortly after, but I remember hearing some of their sessions out in the garden when I was lying out by the pool with the girls.

I bring my knees up, the heels of my feet resting against my ass as my back arches off the bed. “Breathe with your belly, feel your thoughts flowing through your mind.” I’m startled when the door of my bedroom swings open.

The man standing under my doorway is a walking magazine ad, you know the ones you find in Vogue by Hugo Boss or Rolex—at least a somewhat disheveled version of it. He’s dressed in an incredibly tailored and expensive sleek black suit, his jacket swung over one shoulder, the top three buttons of his black dress shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The tie in a dark gunmetal gray color hangs loose around his neck like he’s just finished a long day of work at the office, or having sex with someone in said office.

My stomach clenches as the reminder of what he does for “work” enters my already disheveled brain.

“Are you okay?” he asks, not bothering to enter the room, though his eyes do rake over my body and my awkward position on the bed.

“Yeah totally fine,” I choke out, “Just doing some yoga.” I sound like a total idiot.

“I can see that,” he mocks, a humorous tone in his voice as he takes a step forward, giving himself just enough space to close the door behind him.

I fall back onto the bed and stretch my legs out in front of me before propping myself on my elbows to meet his gaze. Just who I wanted to see.

My mind goes quiet, the earlier worries flooding it now completely gone and taking over are the thoughts of why he’s here? Why has he come barging in to ask if I’m okay?

Damon says nothing to pacify my thoughts or answer the questions I know he can see in my expression. I look just as confused as I feel.

Did Jade call him? That’s the only explanation, right? Jade called him when I left the bar feeling sick, she had to have done it. I mean why wouldn’t she call her best friend to tell him his girlfriend left work early because she was feeling sick and acting like a total maniac.

My body immediately tenses though for a completely different reason as I take in the entirety of his appearance. His hair has gotten long since he cut it for Stella’s wedding, but tonight it looks like someone has run their fingers through it. God, I hope it was only him and not some other client he’s working for. He said he was no longer taking on other clients, but then again if he’d lied how would I know?

He runs a hand over his jaw, his beard a thick shadow painting his jaw black though it remains neatly groomed. God, I want to feel it between my legs, feel its roughness as he eats me out, leaving a coat of redness and ache along my inner thighs. To see it covered in my arousal when I come all over his tongue so hard it drips out of his mouth and coats his beard.

God, I’m getting so hot just picturing it, but it sure helps the numbness my body felt earlier.

That’s it, the only way to erase the last few hours and the dread I was about to succumb to is to replace it with a feeling I want, one that I need. A sense of euphoria, and the only one who can give me that is him.

Fuck yoga, I need to ride a dragon.

Standing up from the bed, I slowly walk over to where he stands, barely inside the room, watching my every move as I approach him. His jaw tenses when I come to a stop right before him and reach for his jacket. Taking it out of his hand, I drape it along the chair by my window before turning back, raising up on my tiptoes, and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“You know, there are other ways in which one can unwind from a long, tiresome day.” I try my best to sound seductive though in reality I’m shaking inside from the possibility of him rejecting my advances yet again.

“Oh really,” he says, shocking me by playing along. I place a hand on the small patch of skin showing under the collar of his shirt and nearly shiver as desire shoots through me when his right hand slides from my waist up my side. He’s careful though, his thumb sticking out to not rub underneath my breast, but his fingers slowly trace the skin above my waist as they move.

“Mmm,” I murmur unable to speak. Desire courses through me, shockwaves of pure, unfiltered need overwhelm me as I picture his lips against mine. His rough hands caressing every inch of my skin. The many ways in which his mouth would bring me to my knees over and over, while his cock fills me completely.

I feel his body grow stiff underneath my touch before he releases me and steps back. “Wynter please, we can’t. Just don’t…”

Anger rushes inside me, a wave of ire that immediately sets my entire body ablaze but for a completely different reason.

I’m Wynter fucking Servite, daughter of a depraved villain and his equally vile plaything. The former Ice Princess of Servite Academy who survived two years married to a mafia don, locked up in his tower unless I was let out to hang on his arm like a prized possession. Yet here I am, letting a man—who just a year ago was nothing more than a punk who was brought into a world he didn’t belong to—treat me like I’m not worth his time or attention.

I can tell Damon notices the tension in me but he doesn’t say a damn thing to ease it. His dazzling green eyes—the precious emerald jewels which have mesmerized me and turned me into a weak and pathetic damsel who needs saving—watch me with uncertainty. There’s a glimmer of something in them, something I cannot decipher yet I can feel it in my bones and it feels more real than anything ever has. A passion, a longing, a fear of the unknown, an unwillingness to let go.

All of it comes crashing into me like a torrent of brutal tides that want to end me. I suddenly can’t breathe. Inhaling sharply I grab onto his tie and pull him toward me until his lips are a mere inch from mine.

“I’m done,” I whisper against his mouth, aching to give into my need for him. But I’m tired of the embarrassment of his constant rejection. I may understand why he does it, claiming he won’t give into this between us because he knows I’m not being completely honest with him, but it doesn’t give him the right to play with my emotions this way.

“Princess,” he growls in warning, a sound so deep and raw it makes my skin break out in goosebumps.

“I’m done playing games with you. I’m tired of trying to get you to realize that I’m right here. That I want you. I’m so sick of your rejection. You either want me or you don't, Damon. I don’t have energy to continue this…” I point between us, unable to name what’s between us. Is it an obsession, a craving of something which we both know is wrong. Or is it so much more than that and he’s just too afraid to accept it? “If you want me, then man up and have me. If you don’t, then leave me the fuck alone. I don’t need you if it’s going to come with ultimatums. I can take care of myself and my needs all on my own.”

Pushing him off me, I watch as he falters back, surprised by my admission, but he still doesn’t say a thing so I continue. “Just admit you’re afraid, Damon. Of getting hurt like you have in the past. Because I know despite what you’ve made yourself believe, what happened between you and Scarlett, it hurt you.”

Anger flickers in his eyes at the mention of his ex-girlfriend who now is my brother’s wife. His throat bobs as he swallows back the fury I’m sure he wants to unleash on me for bringing it up yet again. I can see it in the way his teeth clench, his fingers rubbing against one another like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Watch it, Wynter. You have no fucking clue what you’re saying.”

I scoff, hating his cowardice. “I know you care for me, but you’re also holding back because you can’t risk getting into something and ending up hurt. So let’s make a deal.” His eyebrows quirk up in curiosity. “I want you, Damon, and I’ll take you in any way that I can. Even if you don’t want me the same way, I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you even if it’s temporary.”

A deep chuckle leaves him as he runs his hand through his hair in a move that shows just how unnerved he is by all of this. “We already have a temporary contract, Wynter. Or have you forgotten what you’re paying me to pretend?”

I take three steps forward and push him back against the wall before I grab him yet again by his tie and pull him toward me. The quick movement catches him off guard and his hands land on my waist as he braces himself for whatever I’m about to do next.

“Then let’s renegotiate,” I say, my tongue sneaking out to lick my lips. I bite down on my bottom lip, his eyes quickly flicking down to my mouth at the motion. “Get rid of your stupid rule of no fucking me and give me what I want from you. Because I want it. I want your cock.” I trail a hand down his chest until I palm his thick, hard cock in my hand and squeeze, making him groan in response. It’s exhilarating to feel how hard he is, to feel him grow in my hand from how much he wants this, wants me. “I want it in me, Damon. In my mouth, in my pussy, all of it. So let me have it, even if it’s just for the rest of our contract. If at the end of this you want it all to remain just a fake ploy to fool my mother, that’s all it will ever be.”

I can see it in his eyes, he’s so close to breaking, to saying fuck it all and giving into this between us, but he doesn’t. It kills me to watch how he refuses to make a move. Refuses to give us this chance at what could be epic. He gives me nothing, so I test a theory I’ve been dying to prove right.

Taking a few steps away from him, I unbutton my jean shorts, and watch as his eyes remain glued to mine refusing to look anywhere else, as my shorts drop to the floor. I step out of them, pulling my cropped Silver Wolf T-shirt over my head and climbing onto my bed, leaving me dressed in my black thong and nothing else.

My full breasts sit high on my chest, perked nipples aching from just how turned on I am and the child of desire coursing through me at the way his eyes refuse to look down from mine.

Leaning back on my elbows, I watch as Damon’s eyes leave mine, moving down to my tits which move with every wavering breath I let out. Feeling empowered by the way he’s staring at me, I reach over to my nightstand and pull out a pierced dildo I purchased with him in mind. His eyes move in sync with my movements, their bright shade of green turning dark once he realizes what I’m about to do.

Damon’s jaw clenches the tightest it’s been tonight as I reach down, cock toy in hand, and slide the string of my thong to one side, letting my legs fall open and giving him the perfect view of my pussy. The veins in his neck visibly throb and I can tell it’s almost painful for him to hold back, yet the bastard does exactly that.

God, he’s relentless.

He doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t say a goddamn thing, just watches as I bring the cock to my mouth and suck it before returning it back to my pussy. I don’t immediately thrust it inside me. No, I need to give him time to react and take charge. Because that’s what I want, to push him past his breaking point and watch him go wild with need. Need to possess me, to be in control. Damon won’t just stand here and watch me fuck myself with a toy. No, the savage creature that lies within him, the possessive beast is too eager to take matters into his own hands, I just have to push him to the edge.

I can already tell he’s on the precipice, just another small nudge and he will explode. That’s exactly what I want.

I switch on the vibrating cock, careful not to put it on the highest of three settings—I’m not trying to come before he steps in and takes over and I’m practically ready with the way he licks his lips as he watches me spread my arousal with my fingers. The soft hum of the vibration is the only sound heard in the room—well other than my labored breathing and heartbeat pulsing in my ears.

Damon’s fists clench at his sides, his throat constraining as his eyes zero in on my pussy and the way I slide the toy back and forth through my wetness. His gaze follows my every movement. I’m so fucking wet from just imagining how he will react that I can already feel my pleasure building. If he doesn’t make a move quickly I’m going to come all over the pierced dick, and not the one that’s attached to him.

Because I damn well know he’s pierced.

“What do you think you're doing, Princess?” he says, his voice so hoarse and full of need it startles me, though in a good way. God, he sounds incredible. How can someone have such a tantalizing voice? It’s ridiculous really, that he has it all—a lethal package of sex and desire. Damon Drake is hands down the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, not to mention has a body that would make even the vainest of men insecure, and a voice dripping with sin and sex appeal.

He’s a dream come true and a terrifying nightmare all in one.

And pretty soon he’s going to be mine.

“Like I said, if you won’t be man enough to admit what you want and take it, then I am pretty capable of taking things into my own hands.” I try to appear confident as possible but I can’t help the way my voice quivers as he slowly moves toward me, stopping when his knees hit the edge of the bed at my feet.

“Is that so?” he challenges, not entirely believing my act of confidence. But I am determined to prove to him how serious I am about this. “Then let’s see what you got, Princess.”

It’s not a question but a challenge. He doubts me, doubts I will fuck myself here in front of him with a silicone dick that could never compare to the real thing. But I’m past the point of making sane decisions. Past the point of waiting for something that won’t ever come unless I take control of fate and force the bitch to do as I say.

Pressing the pierced tip of the cock against my clit piercing, I moan, reveling in the way the vibrations intensify the feeling. Fuck, this actually feels good though I know he’d be better.

“Oh God,” I let out without even trying to sound sexy. “You want to know why I got this specific toy, Damon?” I ask, though I don’t wait for his response. “Because I knew it would feel just like you, well at least the closest I could get to being you. Because nothing has ever felt so good, nothing will ever.”

His resolve withers as he advances. “Then tell me, baby. How does it feel? Show me what you wish I was doing to you right now.” His voice deepens to a pitch I’ve never heard before. It’s equally exhilarating and terrifying if I’m honest.

Is he taunting me? Testing me, yet not expecting me to actually do it? Because I so fucking will. I’m so aroused I will just about do anything to come right now. Maybe coming while he’s watching me, with his direction, will be enough to satiate the need for him. Highly doubtful but what else is a girl to do but try.

I spread my legs wider, my hips almost cramping from how open they are but I push through. “I’d first take you in my mouth,” I say, bridging the toy up once again to my lips for effect. “I’d lick your cock up and down, spreading the precum all around so you’d slip right in me. Then I’d wrap my lips around your thick and throbbing shaft, bringing you to the edge until you came in my mouth. I’d swallow it down like a good little girl savoring every drop but just as quickly, while you were still coming down from your orgasm, I’d grip you in my palm and cup your balls with my other hand, pumping you until you were yet again ready for me.”

Lust darkens his eyes, and he moves unknowingly, edging closer to the bed. Without realizing it, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the beautifully inked skin beneath it. God, he has perfect abs, the kind you only see on television.

“What else?” he says, practically daring me to continue.

The way his muscles contract pushes me to keep going. “I’d tell you to lie back, and watch as your cock grew painfully hard before lining you up with my entrance, straddling you so I could lower myself onto you. I’d scream your name as you fill me, just like this,” I say, inserting the cock into my pussy as I throw my head back and close my eyes from how good the sensation feels. “Oh Damon, fuck you’d feel so good.”

Though just as I’m about to tell him what I’d do next, I open my eyes and find that the single strand that held together his final ounce of self-control snaps, and the daunting Dragon loses all control.

Checkmate.