Chapter 3

3

Arya

Just like that, I’m out of my glass prison.

Honestly, even after having my parents basically ignore me for the last eighteen years, I feel a little guilty when Damian carries me out of the house. All my mother and father can do is stand there looking dumbfounded watching my guardian angel’s men wheel my luggage out in charged silence.

At least, they’re silent until right before we step into the penthouse’s personal elevator.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” my mother calls, her mouth in a bitter twist. “Just wait until she gets upset. She won’t seem like such a prize then!”

Shame burns my face and I bury it in Damian’s chest.

My mother is right.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve thrown terrible tantrums. Loud, whopping destructive ones that are probably the reason my parents pawned me off on paid staff. It’s why I can’t be too mad at them for leaving me alone so often. It’s hard enough to deal with the emotional outbursts—I can’t imagine what it’s like to be on the receiving end.

I’m not a spoiled brat. If someone tells me I can’t have something, I don’t get upset or demand to get my way. It’s when there’s something truly important on the line that my muscles seize up, my throat turning raw until I can’t do anything but scream in frustration.

For instance, if one of the puppies on my adoption website has a new owner all lined up, but they change their minds at the very last minute, I have been known to rip down curtains, smash picture frames and hiccup cry until I pass out. I’m not sure where the frustration comes from, but apparently there is a very deep well of it. It hasn’t run dry yet!

A man opens the back door of an SUV for Damian and he sets me carefully on the white leather seat, getting in behind me. There is a hulking driver in the driver’s seat with an earpiece and he stares straight ahead, even when I say hello.

“They don’t speak to you,” Damian says, pulling me up against his side and draping an arm over my shoulder. And he doesn’t elaborate.

“Um, Damian? About what my mother said—”

“You don’t have to explain, Arya.”

“I feel like I should.” I turn as much as possible in his embrace. “Since we’re going to be living together.”

He tips my chin up, brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “You won’t have reasons to get upset now that we’re living together. It’s irrelevant.”

“Oh.” I watch through my periphery as the driver steers the SUV into a tunnel. “Where are we going to be living together exactly?”

“The Hamptons.” His rapt attention is glued to my mouth, his body crowding closer, and that suspicious tingle between my legs is happening again. Like it always does when I smell oranges. Or when I know he’s near. “I’ve never lived in this place. We’ll be moving in for the first time together.”

“Where do you live normally?”

He visibly debates for a moment. “Across the street from your family.”

My jaw drops. “All this time? You were right across the street?”

“Yes.”

“Damian?”

He hums his response while reaching up to press an overhead button, raising a partition between us and the driver. Along with the tinted windows, the sudden privacy makes the spacious back seat feel like its own world. And when he reaches over and steals his jacket back, leaving me in nothing but my blue bikini, the atmosphere seems to clench in anticipation. Of what? I don’t know. But with him fully clothed and me in nothing but a few strategic triangles, I’m suddenly short of breath and achy in odd places.

“What did you want to ask me, sweetheart?” he prompts, running a finger from the hollow of my throat down, down, not stopping until he can circle it around my belly button.

“Uhhh…” I wet my dry lips. “Ummm…oranges. You always smell like them. That’s not because I gave you one all those years ago. Is it?”

His hand spans my ribcage, squeezing, testing. “Why wouldn’t that be the reason? Arya, you changed my life that day. Made me feel like…I could be worth a damn. Why wouldn’t I eat half a dozen oranges a day to remind myself of you?”

The center of my chest feels funny, along with those secret parts of me and it’s almost too much. Too overwhelming how he…commands me, body and mind. “I only sort of liked oranges when I was a kid, but…the first time you rescued me when I was thirteen, I started craving them again.”

“I don’t think oranges are what either of us is really craving.” Slowly, his big hand wedges beneath my knee closest to the window and pulls, pulls it toward him until I have no choice but to flop back on the seat, gasping as he suddenly looms above me, settling between my thighs with a loud groan. “I should have left you wrapped in the jacket. Feel how hard you’ve made my cock in that flimsy little bikini? Christ, I could eat you alive. I fucking might.”

My cheeks flame at his use of the word cock.

I’ve never heard it used before, especially not in a hoarse, masculine growl, but with his thickness rubbing sensuously against my core, it’s easy to understand what he’s talking about. “I-is that what…do you mean your…?”

His heavy breathing catches and he stops moving, regarding me under heavy eyelids. “What do you know about sex, sweetheart?”

“Well…” What is that wet sensation between my folds? What if he notices? God, I would die. Maybe I can talk until it dries. “I was pretty young when my parents decided to home-school me. Right before high school. And I didn’t really have many friends to ask about…things. A lot of the kids I went to school with, their parents worked in trading and no one wants the DA paying too close of attention, right? So the other girls stayed away and…well, I know the general shape of a man’s part…” My cheeks flame at the word part. “And that women and men have to sleep in the same bed to make babies. They have to do more than kissing, right? I just don’t know what that something is.”

In clear disbelief, he searches my eyes. “What about books you’ve read?”

“I read mostly fantasy. They don’t go into much description, if any.”

“The internet?”

I slap a hand over my face. “I look at puppies.”

For long moments, he doesn’t move or say anything, then the breath he’s been holding shudders out and he pins my wrists overhead, diving into my neck and attacking the sensitive slope with his teeth. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He suctions his lips to my skin and sucks, sucks hard until I cry out, my heels coming up to dig into his ass. Yank him closer, push him away, both. “I’ve been mentally fucking you for so long, I forgot what an innocent little thing you are. My cock, Arya…” He looks down between our bodies, groaning, watching our lower bodies connect, roll together. “My cock is the part of me that’s going to fit nice and deep inside that pretty virgin pussy and pump until you’re pregnant. Do you understand?”

* * *

Damian

Again,I have to remind myself to slow down.

Control the lust.

It’s just that my need for her has been building and building for so long, it’s at a fever pitch now. So chaotic that I feel like I’m going to snap. I just want to be trapped inside her goodness, as deep as I can go. I want to drown myself in her. I want to feel her virginity give way and see the knowledge in her eyes that I’m the center of her universe now. That there is nothing and no one else. Just me. Just us.

If I fuck her now, I’m going to scare her.

In the weeks leading up to her eighteenth birthday, I didn’t jerk off once. I wanted to save every drop of it for her pussy. But it was a mistake. A big one. Her innocence is turning me on even more than I anticipated and my dick is wrestling for space in my jeans. Damn, damn, damn. If I put it inside her now, there will be no going slow. What I want to do to that tight hole between her legs would be downright abusive.

Wait. You have to wait.

My question still lingers in the cool air of the backseat.

“Do you understand?” I prompt her, snaring the tie of her bikini top between my teeth and pulling until her nipples pop free. My breathing turns ragged. “Do you understand that I’m going to get you pregnant, sweetheart?”

I panic when she hesitates to answer, but I will get what I want. I’m getting every inch of her. She’s had ownership of me for years and she’ll have it for the rest of her life. All I’m asking for is her to reciprocate immediately. Now. My madness dances on the razor’s edge when it comes to her. Does she realize that? Desperate to convince her, I close my mouth over one of the stiff little buds and rub it with the center of my tongue.

She gasps, her wrists jerking in my grip above her head. “D-Damian.”

I lick across to her other tit and give it the same attention, gratification storming through me when she writhes, her back arching off the seat. “Yes, Arya?”

“Am I…” She squeezes her eyes closed and blurts, “Am I supposed to be…wet?”

Christ. It takes the deepest reserve of my willpower not to flip Arya over and give her a rough fuck when she says that. I’ve never had intercourse, but I’ve studied enough to be prepared for this girl and my body always responds most intensely to the thought of Arya on her hands and knees, crying out as I thrust into her from behind. Goddamn. The things I’m going to do to this girl. Everything from making love to her in front of our fireplace to pounding her like a little toy against the hood of my car. And I have to stop thinking about that now or I’m going to act before she’s ready. Before I have control of myself. “Yes. It’s a very good thing, sweetheart,” I rasp. “Your body is making it easier for me to fit.”

She exhales with relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” I circle my tongue around her nipple and she seems to be enjoying it even more now that I’ve explained it’s a positive thing to be wet. Her ass shifts around on the seat, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “That feels so g-good.”

I have to know how wet she is.

Just need to touch. To taste.

I’ve let go of her pinned wrists and my hands are already fumbling with her bikini bottoms, my fingers shaking in my haste to get them off. This is a risky move when my cock is a stiff missile and precome is lubricating the tip, but I’ll never make the rest of the drive without seeing her pussy up close. Without meeting the part of her I plan to worship day and night and the hours in between.

She tries to close her legs out of shyness and I snarl at the nervous reflex, ripping the nylon down the center with my bare hands. “No, no, no, Arya. We do not play keep away with this pussy.” I spit and watch the moisture from my mouth travel down the perfect slit of her hairless sex. “It’s mine and I decide what to do with it.”

Her chest expands. “W-what are you going to do with it?”

“Right now, I just want to look.” The scent of her has reached me and I have no choice but to grind my cock against the seat, it’s so light and virginal. “I’m going to touch it and give it a kiss, too. I have no choice. It’s just too sweet.”

Arya’s thighs tremble as I settle my face between them, laying easy kisses along the moist valley that has yet to open and reveal her completely. Christ, I doubt she’s even fingered herself or used a tampon because I have to gently saw my tongue up and down several times before her lips will even part for me. And when they do, she whimpers, her honey dripping out in a slow rivulet that travels down toward her perfect, puckered asshole. I try to catch as much as I can with my tongue, licking her moisture back up and coating her pussy in delicious juice.

My God, my God, my God, this is what heaven tastes like.

She’s sugar and vanilla and musk and I’m never getting enough.

The seat rocks underneath us from the force of me humping the bench, and that swaying motion brings her up and back against my mouth. She’s sobbing, trying to lock her thighs around my head, but my hands keep knocking her knees wide, my mouth keeps diving deeper, sucking on her inner thighs, motorboating her swelling bud, giving her thorough licks of my tongue, asshole to clit and back for more.

“Tasty little girl, aren’t you?” I growl, wedging my tongue partway into her entrance and jiggling it, listening to her breath catch, her hands grabbing fistfuls of my hair.

“Damian. What…what is happening? I feel like I’m going to burst.”

I can’t stop to explain it to her. She tastes too good. My lower body is slamming into the seat now and I pretend she’s face down on the front lawn of our estate. Her hair is wound around my fist and I’m showing her everything I’ve toiled for, just so I could give it to her one day. And she’s opening her legs in lust, in love, in gratitude, eager for the pleasure only I know how to give her right. Jesus yes.

Now, her pussy starts to spasm around the tip of my tongue and she makes a sexy mewling noise, her hips lifting off the seat. “Oh my goodness,” she moans.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I groan, worrying her clit with the pad of my thumb. “Let me carry you over the threshold of our home for the first time with your come all over my chin. Let me carry you inside looking like you just got drilled.”

Her body seizes and she screams, a shocked, euphoric sound that I want to hear every second for the rest of my life. Her cream sluices out and I lap at the source with my tongue while squeezing her taut little ass cheeks in my hands. I rub my nose side to side against her clit, then slowly suction my lips over the top of it, suckling gently and pushing her into a deeper orgasm, turning her scream to a hoarse chant of my name.

Everything I dreamed she would be…has far been surpassed.

There are parts of being with Arya I didn’t know enough to imagine. The silkiness of her inner thighs on my cheeks, the way she reaches for me like I’m the cure for everything. The addictiveness of her whimpers. Even her come is exquisite—and it’s all mine. I’m the only one who will ever experience the warm rush of this girl on his tongue.

My lower abdomen twists violently with the need for release, but I push my own need to the side and pull Arya up into my lap sideways, tucking her head beneath my chin. She pants, her eyes unfocused, and I kiss her mouth over and over again, telling her I love her.

“Damian, that was…that was…the best thing I’ve ever, ever felt.” Her head lolls against my shoulder, a smile playing around her lips. “Do you…get to feel like that?” she says shakily, testing my erection with a twist of her butt in my lap. “Do you, Damian?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” I say hoarsely, stilling her hips with a firm hand. “You’re going to do things to make me feel that good. Frequently. You’re going to wrap your pretty mouth around my big bad cock so often, it’s going to taste like home. You’re going to ride it, get ridden, get it up your tight ass and no matter what I do, you’re going to cry for me to go harder.” She looks up at me with lust banking in her brown eyes. “But not until you’re ready. Until then, I’ll find a way to take care of…” I blow out a breath when yet another wave of hunger slams into me. “I’ll find a way to handle it.”

In hindsight, I’ll have wished I’d chosen my words more carefully.