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20. CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Quinlan

Damien won’t tell me what Rex did to him.

Not this minute. Maybe never.

Honestly, I stopped caring over five minutes ago. The pain and pleasure of having him touch me while I needed to use the bathroom is maddening. They wiped out every other coherent thought from my head.

“Go.” He removes himself from me. “Use the bathroom. I’m waiting.”

“Do you have to be here?” I hardly care about that either. Everything in my body needs. Just needs .

To relieve myself. To be touched. To come.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It hurts, needing everything so completely. It’s turning me into a wild woman.

A woman willing to do anything this sadist orders her to.

“Absolutely.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the wall. Expression calm, betraying nothing. “Pee.”

I don’t ask him what’ll happen to me later. What he’ll do or won’t do to me. I don’t even ask myself those questions.

Won’t admit that I do, in fact, want his cock. I wasn’t lying about that.

Never.

“God, you’re such a jerk.” I tug my panties and slacks up, only so I can sprint to the toilet, shove them down again, clamp my knees shut, and go.

“Eyes on me.” The demand is less harsh than I would’ve expected. I look at him, discovering his sapphire eyes are as gentle as his voice. Ish. Gentle-ish. “Good girl, Quinlan.”

Those damn eyes. That voice. This isn’t an act.

Beneath the numerous masks he has on, beneath his cruelty, he cares.

About me.

The longer I go, the more the darkness in his eyes pushes out the blue. By the time I’m done, Damien’s eyes are darker than the night.

“Wipe.”

This is humiliating. More than humiliating, to be ordered like this. As if I’m a child.

This is mortifying.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

It isn’t hot.

It isn’t.

“Fine.” Quickly, I wipe myself and flush before he can come over and do that for me. Before Damien convinces me that I like this sick part of our game too.

I don’t.

My fingers hook into the waistband of my panties. He shakes his head. “Off. Take everything off.”

“You’ve seen enough.” I lift my chin. “I did everything you asked for. Enough is enough.”

Hands. One on my throat. The other in my hair. Pulling. Tugging. Yanking.

No air comes in. Damien has it. Damien has me .

“One thing you’ll find out about me...” His perfect mouth is too close. He brushes it along my cheek. His scruff grazes my skin, and I shudder. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Showing Damien I’m into the pain he’s administering is wrong. I have to fight him. Have to go back to the safety of my room.

I have to.

“Tough luck. I am not—”

The fabric of my blouse rips apart. In the quiet bathroom, the sound is deafening.

“Please. Do keep telling me no.” His teeth scrape the area right beneath my jaw. He bites me, sucks on the wounded skin. “Give me a reason to torture you.”

“You already are torturing me,” I whisper. Can’t talk any louder than this. “Or is this your idea of being sweet?”

I could blame my mouth for running on me. I could. It would be a lie.

My sick, depraved body craves this man so badly. He ruins me. Breaks me down. And I’m dying for every twisted piece of him.

I wish… I wish Rome and Liam were here too.

“Filthy, filthy girl.” Damien pulls back, hauling me to my feet.

I stand there. I’m a statue, a doll for him to use.

Which he does.

My blouse is a gray fabric cascading to the floor. My bra is removed and discarded.

Damien bends to one knee, and I could take advantage of this moment. I could knee him in the nose, even with my pants and panties bunched around my bare feet.

If I break it, he’ll scream. I could make a beeline for my room.

Instead, I’m frozen. My hands are the only part of me that moves. They slide to grasp at Damien’s hair when he presses his nose to my swollen clit.

“Please.” Self-respect is a faraway concept. I’m soaked. Needy.

Empty.

I’ve never felt this empty in my life.

“Please, Damien.”

“Foot up.” He finishes the sentence by drawing back from my pussy. By biting the flesh of my thigh.

I scream and lift my foot simultaneously. Damien’s dark chuckle reaches me from the floor as he slides what’s left of my clothes past my foot. His hand is clasped around my ankle, placing my foot softly on the floor.

“Was that so hard?” His head is tilted, his gaze taunting me.

“You’re cruel,” I say, but my fingers are deep in his soft, thick hair. “Why are you doing this?”

“Other foot.” He’s quicker than I am. Bites my other thigh to get me to comply. “I remember asking you nicely to come out of the room for hours.”

I’m naked. My clothes are everywhere.

Damien gets up, towering over me. “Nicely.”

“Why did you kidnap me?”

He leads me to the bathtub with two hands on my hips. My ass hits the ledge. I hide the fact that it’s cold. Don’t flinch or cry out.

“You owe me an answer.”

“Nonsense.” He drops to his knees. “Best I can do is offer you a game.”

So elegant, this man. Every muscle in his body knows its function. Including the smirk curving on his lips. It’s there to fuck with my head.

It’s working. “What game?”

My traitorous fingers should pluck his eyes out. They do the opposite, stroking his temples, the roots of his hair.

“For every second you make me wait… Every second you stop me, darling.” I didn’t think his eyes could get any darker. I was wrong. So wrong. “I hurt you.”

“Wait for what?”

“Anything.” The word is spoken against my pussy. One hot breath, and I moan for him. Fuck. “Anything at all.”

“When are we going to play?”

“Forever. Starting this moment.”

“What if I say no?”

Damien’s hands are aggressive as he presses his fingers to my thighs.

“You lost your right to say no a long time ago.” He pins me harder to the tub until the ledge is digging into my ass. “Fuck, that sweet cunt.” His eyes bore into me. “Already so wet. It’ll be an absolute fucking pleasure to make a mess out of you.”

His teeth clamp on my thigh. They’re sharp. He’s relentless, insatiable, as he bites and sucks on my flesh. He’s getting off on my pain. On my screams. On how violently I grasp his hair.

He’s going to bite a piece of my thigh off, I’m sure of it. The pain is awful, shooting up and down my body. The excruciating burn reaches to my toes. My eyes burn.

“Stop,” I beg. Tears of pure agony cascade down my cheeks. But pleasure is there too. So much of it that I cry harder.

My tears land on the floor. On Damien’s face.

“Please.” I’m no longer crying. I’m sobbing. This pain won’t ever go away. Even after Damien’s mouth isn’t on me anymore. And I don’t want it to go away. “Please, Damien.”

He doesn’t listen to me. He bites me while he brushes his thumb on my clit. Again. And again. And again.

The pain he’s administering with his teeth feels deliriously better. I’m out of my mind. Moaning and groaning, thrusting my hips toward him.

I don’t care. More than anything, I don’t care about anything.

“I can’t.” I stare at him. I’m babbling, and I don’t know if I can stop. “I can’t. Oh my God. Oh my God .”

“Not God, darling.” Damien releases my thigh, and it hurts how much I miss him. He massages the sore area, though it isn’t the same as the sweetness of his teeth. Nothing like it. “Not Him. Your pussy is soaked because of me . I’m the one who sees through you. Who knows what my pretty little whore wants deep down. I see your heart beating behind your ribs, and it’s beating for me. Because you love the pain. You love what I give you.”

He stands, and before I can stumble, he has an arm around my back. My entire body aches for him. Every part of me brims with the most painful desire I’ve ever experienced.

“When you beg.” Damien’s mouth closes on my nipple. He talks between bites. Between lashing his tongue on my sensitive skin. “You don’t beg for God. You beg for Rome. For Liam. For me . No one else is here to save you. No one else is here to pleasure you. No one’s taken care of you in a while. But we are. We will. Beg for me.”

“Yes.” I’m so fucked. “Fine, fuck. Yes. Please, please, touch me.”

His breath is hot on my breast. His tongue swiping along my nipple is a lie. A pretense. Damien Black isn’t a nice man.

And the needy, brainless woman is attracted to this monster.

“Only us.”

His teeth sink into my breast, and I scream. The shock. The white-hot pain. The desire. Everything hits me all at once, and I cry out his name, pant and sob.

Damien turns me into something I’m not. Into this girl who lifts her foot off the floor and pins it to his ass. With my body, I plead with this evil man to take more from me. Bite me harder. Suck on my flesh until I have no more tears to cry.

He’ll leave bruises. I’ll bear Damien’s mark on me.

“Please.” So many tears roll down my cheeks. “More. Please.”

“Please, what? What’s my name, darling?”

He’s in my face. Forehead pressed to mine. Our noses touching. He said I’m desperate for him.

He looks just as unhinged. Just as lost. As needy.

“Please, Damien.”

“Fuck, yes. My name on your lips. Feels so fucking good. Say it again.”

“Damien.”

Emotion flashes behind his eyes. He assaults me with his mouth. Swallows my moan in his kiss. He’s violent, taking everything from me. With his teeth. With his tongue. With his skilled fingers on my pussy, coaxing an orgasm out of me.

I call out his name when I come. I whisper it over and over when he lifts me in his arms and lowers me into the bath. When he starts the hot water.

“Was that so hard?” He’s at my side once I’m settled inside, crouched, stroking my damp hair from my face. “Giving me what I want?”

He’s beautiful. My body is still reeling from the orgasm, but it’s not just a physical need anymore. I…

My hand lifts without my permission, stroking his cheek. He opened up to me and I didn’t hate it. I liked it.

I want more of it.

“Thought you said you’d never beg for my cock?”

“Not your cock.” But also yes, definitely his cock. I need him inside me on a visceral level. I haven’t had anyone else there. All I know is that I need him. “Come in.”

“Once you stop being a brat, you’ll get it.”

“Why?”

He twists his head. His lips are warm on my palm for a second before he takes my wrist and places my hand back under the hot water.

My bottom lip juts out. “You hate me. Because of Rex. This was all a game.”

“No.” Soap is being lathered on my body. He’s soaping me. I didn’t even notice he spurted it on his hand. “I could never hate you. I like torturing you. There’s a difference.”

I’m smiling, and he smirks. After my body is covered in soap, he rises and walks behind me. I groan when he starts massaging shampoo into my scalp.

Minutes pass in silence. Hours even. Who knows?

Certainly not me.

My arms are limp inside the bath. I’m up to my neck in the hot water and bubbles. A hot, unhinged man is washing my hair from behind.

My kidnapper. One out of three.

“Your half-brother isn’t a good man.” Getting out the words is a struggle; I can hear it in his voice.

Confessing the truth.

I tilt my head up to look at him. The anger from before, the intensity, they’re gone. Vanished. The sharp lines of his face have smoothed over.

He really doesn’t hate me. He won’t hurt me.

His teeth on my body? It was a kink. But the way he’s touching me isn’t cruel. His confession about Rex isn’t an accusation.

It’s an explanation.

Interesting. The monster lets me into his softer side. Me.

Why? And why do I like this? Having him trust me?

He took me against my will. I should hate myself, and I’m calm around him.

Through my heavy eyes, I skim his beautiful face. His relaxed lips. The muscles on his forearms and biceps flex while he keeps rubbing my skull. It feels nice.

I’m still curious, and all I can do is frown.

“You asked why, Quinlan.”

“Right.” It takes me a moment to realize my mouth is hanging open. I clamp it shut in a pop.

The corners of his lips lift. For a single, confusing moment. The next, he’s serious.

“Has Rex ever told you what he”—Damien bites his bottom lip, shaking his head and growls—“was. What he did for a living before you were born?”

“He worked at Maeve’s. Always.” I’m starting to come down from the high, but it’s a slow landing. I’m sluggish. My eyes are heavy. “Like you would know. How old are you, even?”

“I do.” He doesn’t stop massaging me. “Thirty-four. Rome is my age. Liam’s two years younger.”

“Okay.” Confusion pulls my brows low on my face. “You couldn’t have met him before, then. You’d have been eleven. Rex was twenty-three.”

“Yes.”

That’s it.

My eyes follow Damien as he walks around to the other side of the tub in complete silence. He reaches inside for the plug and drains some of the water that has gone cold.

Weird. I haven’t known him for long, but he doesn’t strike me as the silent type. This man always has something to say. A clever retort. A snarky comment. A command.

Yet he’s being quiet. The silence stretches, and Damien keeps moving around the bath. He starts the hot water again, from the handheld shower head this time. They pour out in a soft stream, and after Damien tests the temperature with his fingers, he returns to his place behind me.

“Deep breath. Close your eyes.”

When I do, magic happens. His fingers are there to remove the suds of shampoo off my hair, and his touch is…divine.

“Good girl.”

Nothing’s harsh about him, nothing at all. He disarms me of my anger at being kidnapped, of being manipulated. Damn him, I like it even more when he applies conditioner and washes it off.

I’m clean from head to toe, and he still hasn’t explained anything. I haven’t pressed him for answers during these long minutes.

Truth is, I’m dreading the moment he will.

“Come here.” My legs are wobbly, and he helps me up. He places my hands on his shoulders, not caring that they’re wet. His only concern is that I get out of the bath without tripping all over myself.

Water drips from my body to the marble floor while Damien walks off to the vanity.

Not a word comes out of him when he’s back. He dries my body with the softest towel. Damien doesn’t stop there. He stands behind me, going through the knots in my hair. Carefully. With a brush.

That they bought for me.

Who is this man? Who are they ?

“Damien?”

He isn’t gentle anymore when he puts the brush on the vanity.

He’s tense, the air in the room crackling. Damien spins me to him, and his eyes are cagey. The dangerous smirk is plastered in place.

My own defenses rise. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re catching on, darling. You didn’t do a thing. But I’m hurting him through you. Because he and his dead wife were monsters instead of foster parents. For me and two other kids. Laurel and Jagger.” Damien’s gaze hardens the moment he says their names. He’s not just dangerous anymore, he’s mean. The man who bit me. The man who took pleasure in kidnapping me. “Story time over. You’re going to eat, and that’s an order.”

An order.

“No.” I narrow my eyes. “Story time is not over.”

“Actually, it is.” He gestures to the door. “Go. Get dressed before Rome and Liam are home. Get ready for dinner.”

The pain in my chest doesn’t hurt that bad. It doesn’t. The verbal slap doesn’t sting. The thought of what Damien and his foster siblings had gone through doesn’t bother me.

I don’t feel anything at all.

I try my best to have my tone reflect how much I don’t care. “I don’t respond well to assholes.”

“Wonderful, darling.” In one elegant swoop, he throws me over his shoulder. We’re headed back to my room. My prison. “Since I don’t respond well to brats.”

My thigh, where he bit me, hurts whenever it touches Damien’s body. My breasts are sore. My heart, God, fuck, it does hurt. I don’t want him to shut me out. To stop talking to me.

I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought I could help him. I could help him fix whatever Rex did to him. I would’ve told him that I don’t condone it, any of it.

Rex hurting kids.

I shiver at that. I… Fuck.

Damien places me down at the doorway to my bedroom. His thumb brushes my tattoo. His eyes are as harsh as ever, but his touch is soft. I don’t think he even notices that he’s doing that.

“Good.” My mind is a mess. I’m exhausted. Wrung out. The tightness in my chest becomes insufferable. “So, this brat and this asshole will go their separate ways and won’t meet at dinner.”

“Quinlan.” His eyes focus on me. “There’ll be consequences if you don’t show up.”

“You keep forgetting something.” One, two, three, and I’m inside the bedroom. My fingers curl around the door handle. “I’m here of my own free will. I’m not your captive.”

“Oh, but you are,” he says as I close the door in his beautiful face. “The sooner you realize it, the better.”

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