by M. S. Willis
David waved me off and laughed. “Oh, please, Paige. Don’t get your panties in a bunch over a little fun.” The buzzer rang from the intercom and David jumped from his chair to go answer it. Matt announced himself over the speaker and David excitedly hit the call button for the elevator. I couldn’t help but grin at how cute he was rushing down the hallway to meet Matt.
Chapter Eight
My face felt like someone had taken their fingers to the sides of my lips and were pulling them apart as hard as they could. Every muscle in my body was on fire and the cramping through my mid-section burned as my body shook violently. Tears freely flowed down my face while the rims of my eyes burned from the constant moisture. I could barely see through my waterlogged lashes as I watched David and Matt reenact scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. My smile was glued to my face and the laughter boiled out of me with no end in sight.
It started innocently enough. At first, David and Matt were only quoting from the coconut scene. Somehow, during the exchange, David located two bowls and banged them together to add sound effects. They both appeared to know the movie by heart and as the wine bottles grew empty, the scenes progressed. They were currently reenacting the black knight scene. So far, David has lost one arm and one leg and screaming something about ‘flesh wounds’. He insisted on hopping around on his good leg to stay in character. His ass had hit the floor more than ten times by this time because alcohol does not lead to better balance. Each time he fell, he popped back up immediately and started hopping again. His hops were so uncoordinated that his body was moving from side to side while his one arm flailed wildly in the air. It was impossible for them to finish the scene because everybody was laughing so hard and the pain the laughter was causing in my body was pure torture. I was doing that erratic hiccup thing you do when your lungs are no longer able to take in adequate amounts of oxygen.
I looked over to Daemon as he stood in the kitchen bemusedly taking in David and Matt’s antics. He chose not to drink wine with us this evening, instead opting for bottled beer. I’d been worried that he would magically morph back into angry Daemon again once alcohol was introduced to his system, but his mood had remained light and jovial. I was delighted with how playful he was and it was impressive how quickly he and my friends clicked. David had been cracking jokes all evening about the medieval décor in Daemon’s house, but he meant it all in good fun. Truthfully, Daemon’s place was breathtaking.
Painfully, I made my way over to Daemon and clung on to him for support as I continued to laugh my ass off. “Da…Davi…David! Stop….seriously…I can’t take…any…more.” My voice was raspy from the irritation to my throat.
David finally put his foot down and doubled over while wiping tears from his eyes. “Holy crap, that was hard! Paige, you should try that. I don’t think it’s possible to stay standing for over 30 seconds.”
I took in large breaths after my diaphragm finally stopped spasming. “No thanks, David.” Breathe in, breathe out. I don’t need to break my neck tonight.” Daemon put his arm around me and pulled me closer into his side. He nuzzled his face into my hair and my heart warmed at the contact.
David finally gained control of himself and he and Matt sat down on the sofa sitting in front of the balcony doors. He looked around the room and over to Daemon with a large, sloppy smile plastered to his face. “Seriously, Daemon. You know I’m joking around with you for fun. Your house really is amazing. Did you decorate it yourself, or did you hire someone to create this masterpiece?”
Daemon cleared his throat before answering in that decadent, deep voice of his. “I did it myself actually.”
David and Matt’s eyes widened as they perused the walls of the living room. “I’m shocked. Gorgeous AND a talented decorator. That’s really impressive. Are you sure you’re not gay?”
Daemon chuckled at David’s question and shook his head in response. David shrugged his shoulders. “That’s too bad. Sorry, Paige, but you know I have to try.” David’s gaze traveled to the paintings along the far wall. “What’s up with the castle theme, Daemon? Do you imagine yourself to be a knight in shining armor? I mean, you do call Paige ‘Damsel’ all the time.” David angled his head at Daemon waiting for a response.
Daemon grinned. “Honestly, I started calling Paige ‘Damsel’ to annoy her. She’s adorable when her face gets all red when she’s angry.” He turned to me and winked right before I elbowed him in the side. He winced from the hit and turned back to answer David. “Actually, the theme started with one of those paintings, and it kind of built out from there.” I looked over to the paintings and thought I recognized them from my art classes in college. Daemon walked over to stand near the center painting and his face took on a reminiscent expression as he gazed up at it. “This painting here is called ‘La Belle Dame Sans Merci’. It’s painted by John William Waterhouse and based on a poem written by John Keats.
David’s body swayed slightly as he listened to Daemon speak. Naturally, David couldn’t pull his mind out of the gutter and he asked, “So, were Waterhouse and Keats medieval pornographers?”
Daemon’s brows furrowed as he looked to David in question. David smiled and explained, “Well, because it’s obvious the knight and the woman are about to get it on in the woods. Just seems like old-timey porn to me.”
One corner of Daemon’s mouth turned up and a dimple appeared on his cheek. My body reacted instantly to the sight of that indentation and I felt woozy from the effect.
“No. They weren’t ancient pornographers. Waterhouse and Keats were alive in the 1800s.”
David nodded as he processed what Daemon was saying. “So, what’s the story behind the painting? Is that supposed to be Lancelot and Guinevere?”
Daemon looked back towards the painting before responding. “No. Although, the story behind this painting could be considered just as tragic. The identity of the knight is never revealed, but he was found wandering around in a barren land, looking sickly and haggard. A person stops him and he tells them about how he met the most beautiful woman in the woods. He fell in love with the woman and they made love in the fields and spent the day together. In the evening, she took him back to her lair and put him under a love spell and he was left wandering in a desolate land for the rest of his life.” He chuckled to himself from some private thought. “I guess that’s what you get when you fall in love with a beautiful woman in a field.” He paused momentarily before saying, “The woman ended up being a mystical creature of some sort, who…”
“…who some thought was also cursed to never be able to fall in love herself.” I finished his statement after remembering the story from school.
Daemon turned to me and smiled shyly. His expression was thoughtful as he intently stared at my face. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. His voice was quiet when he said, “They may have been correct about her as well.”
For a split second, Daemon’s face fell and he appeared distant in his thoughts. I couldn’t understand his sudden melancholy and I searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was thinking.
David absorbed Daemon’s explanation of the painting before asking another question. “So, why that painting? What made it so special to you?”
Daemon’s eyes returned to the painting and his words were clipped when he answered. “I know how the knight feels.”
My eyebrows shot up at Daemon’s admission. He knew how the knight felt? Daemon didn’t strike me as the heartbroken, desolate type and I wondered why he felt a connection to the knight. The fact that I knew so little about Daemon was once again slapped across my face. His mysterious past was an irritating nuisance to me and I wanted nothing more but to solve that mystery tonight.
It was getting late and I could tell David and Matt were starting to wind down. Their eyes were droopy and they reminded me of the way five year old children look when they were fighting sleep. Daemon was stoic and reserved, still standing near the far wall. My muscles stiffened in response to the burning stare of hi
s eyes. His gaze slowly roamed my body and I could feel his touch through my clothing. Soft tremors rolled through me and I struggled to shake away the desire for the glorious man currently devouring me with his eyes. I needed to find out about him, therefore ‘sexy time’ had to take a back seat to ‘sharing time’ this evening. My body protested the decision, but there was no better time than when he was loosened up from drinking. I had to stay true to the mission.
Daemon looked stunning as usual. He wore a button down, forest green shirt, with the sleeves rolled up his muscular forearms. His shirt was tucked into the dark grey trousers that hung just perfectly from his hips. He looked like a casual businessman mixed with the ultimate bad boy and the combination was captivating and seductive as hell. I wanted nothing more than to walk over to him, wrap my hands in his thick mane and yank those sculpted lips down to mine. Shaking off those thoughts would be difficult considering I had at least a bottle of wine freely flowing its way through my bloodstream, but I had to make the effort.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to David and plopped myself down on the couch between him and Matt. My legs lazily sprawled across Matt while I practically sat in David’s lap. His arms wrapped around me and he took me into a warm hug before letting out a contented sigh.
“This has been fun, Paige. We should do this more often.” He nuzzled his nose into my hair and I silently chuckled at the obvious level of his intoxication.
My eyes wandered to Daemon and I detected a bit of possessiveness in his heated stare. He slowly stalked his way over to the couch and my body trembled when he reached down to caress my cheek with his palm. He reached for my hands and pulled me up so that I was standing almost flat against him. The solidity of his chest against the softness of mine was intoxicating.
Daemon looked over my shoulder and spoke to David and Matt. “If you two would excuse us. It’s late and I think I’ll take Paige to bed. The evening has been entertaining and rather enjoyable. Thank you.” The low timbre of his voice caused his chest to vibrate against mine and my knees weakened slightly.
The mission. The mission. The mission. The mission….
I chanted a focusing mantra as Daemon turned and pulled me along with him, making his way to his room. He didn’t bother waiting for a response from David and Matt; his pace was quick and determined.
Once I was safely tucked away in his room, Daemon closed and locked the door. His crystal blue eyes seared into me before his gaze traveled lazily over my body. I stood stock still attempting to gain control over myself. The force of his stare was mystifying and I had to intentionally look to the floor to release myself from the seductive spell he was weaving around me. His feet moved in two long strides before his hand clutched my chin and forced my eyes back to his.
“You can’t hide your eyes from me, Paige. Not in here; and definitely not when I can finally rip those clothes off of you and fuck you until you’re sated and sloppy.” His words were spoken with a sensual drawl and I instantly dampened in response. My thighs pressed themselves together as I fought against my reaction to him. The sexual tension was palpable and the air was charged with an electric spark that popped against every inch of my skin. I could feel logic and reasoning slipping away from my grasp and I stepped back a step to distance myself and breathe. Daemon oozed eroticism and carnal desire so thick that it wrapped around, overtaking every sense and function of my body. My breathing increased its pace as my heart thundered against my chest. I took another step back and noticed that with each step I took, Daemon took one forward. He was stalking me, cornering me with the intent to devour me in every way possible. I knew I only had a small window of time to redirect his mood and hopefully get him talking.
My hands went up to halt Daemon’s progress. “Um, maybe we could hold that thought and…I don’t know…talk for a little while? We really haven’t had a moment alone all day, well, except for this morning…”
The corners of his lips quirked when I mentioned our morning encounter.
“…so, we should catch up.” That was lame, but it was the only complete sentence I could formulate at that particular moment.
His head angled and he continued stalking forward while I backed myself further away. Within no time, I’d backed myself into a wall and Daemon’s stare grew impossibly more heated when he realized I was trapped. His chest pressed lightly against mine and his head angled so that he could whisper suggestively in my ear.
“What would you like to talk about, Damsel? I’m all ears.” His teeth nipped my earlobe and I shuddered, pressing my palms into the wall for stability. Hair prickled along the back of my neck as his warm breath rolled across my skin.
My voice was breathy as I answered, “You.” I paused a beat to adjust to the quickening of my heart. “I want to talk about you.”
Daemon leaned away to look at my face. His one brow arched arrogantly and the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “I’m about to thoroughly and completely fuck you, and you are asking to talk about me instead?” A humorless laugh escaped him. The amusement left his face and his eyes locked with mine. His voice was low and husky when he said, “I’m sorry, Paige. But right here, and right now, I have absolutely no interest in talking. In fact, I prefer that you listen to everything I tell you to do.”
Fuck! He was making it impossible for me to continue holding my resolve. The weak grasp I had on logical thought was lost to the desperate reaction of my body to his voice, his smell, his energy…to him. My muscles quivered at his close proximity and a flood of hormones surged through my head and body. I was on fire for the virile man currently pinning me to the wall.
His hand came up around my neck, softly brushing the palm against my skin. No pressure was applied, but the promise was evident. My thoughts rushed me back to that night in the storage room of Tomb and tremors violently overtook me as I remembered the mind-numbing force of the release he had given me that night.
His voice was whisper soft as he said, “I want to control every part of you. Your heart…your breath…your pleasure and your pain. I want to not only invade, but take over every sense you have. You’ll see nothing but me, hear nothing but me, taste and feel…” His words trailed off momentarily as he lightly ran the tip of his nose down the side of my face to my jawline. “…nothing but me.”
His mouth was suddenly pressed roughly to mine while his hands gripped around my hips possessively. He was holding me in place, claiming my body as his and I was helpless to the desire to give him whatever he wanted. I was putty to be molded by his skillful hands and every bone in my body had softened into a pliable goo. His hands slid down to the backs of my thighs. He lifted my legs to wrap around his waist before abruptly turning and marching me over to his bed. I gasped when he suddenly dropped me onto the mattress.
“Take off your shirt, Damsel.”
His eyes never left my body as his hands reached down to remove my shoes. I slowly pushed myself up off the mattress to do as he said without argument. I gave into my body’s desire to comply with his instructions and the ease with which I gave in to him completely was startling. He watched as my hands wrapped around the bottom hem of my shirt and those beautiful blues followed that hem as it traveled up my body and over my head. I reached around to undo the fastener of my bra and he shook his head. My brow arched in response.
“I haven’t told you to take that off yet.” His response was matter of fact and authoritative, almost as if he expected nothing else but my compliance. A wave of heat rushed along my skin in response to his domineering mannerisms and the sensation was heady, yet unnerving at the same time. Not only was I enjoying his orders, I was starting to anticipate and crave them. The impatient quality of his curt commands demanded my obedience.
He finished removing my shoes and stood before me. My face was at the level of his abdomen when he reached back to pull off his shirt. Within seconds, the sharp ridges and lines of his cut stomach revealed themselves to me. I licked my lips and clenched my hands into fists t
o keep from reaching out to run my fingers along the strong grooves of his stomach. If I touched him without first being told to do so, there was no telling what he would do. I craned my neck to look up at his face and my eyes were met with his burning blue eyes. His sculpted lips were slightly parted and his chest gave away his heavy breathing.
He had me. In this moment, in this encounter, in this room, he had me. I was his to toy with, to use as he desired; a plaything for his sole amusement and satisfaction. I willingly gave myself to him and by doing so, I removed the weight of responsibility that I normally carried on my shoulders. I gave myself to him and, in turn, he gave me freedom.
“Take off my pants, Paige.”
My hands went to his pants without hesitation. I continued looking up into his eyes as my fingers deftly undid the button and slowly slid down the zipper. I slid the material off his hips and let it drop so that it pooled by his feet. I looked straight forward to find that his boxers strained from the bulge pushing out from beneath them. His mouth curved into a lascivious grin before he said, “I’m going to fuck that sassy little mouth of yours, Paige. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first time you told me not to call you ‘Damsel.’
My jaw dropped in shock of what he said and he smiled brighter. “Good girl.”
His hands freed his boxers from his body before wrapping his long fingers into the hair on the back of my head. He was fully erect before me and my eyes briefly caught his before I took him into my mouth. My tongue circled around his tip before sliding along the base. As I took in his length, a low growl emanated from him and his fingers gripped into my hair tighter. The burn on my scalp from the force of his grip was slightly painful and sinfully erotic. I found a rhythm that he must have enjoyed because his head fell back and his chest heaved with his labored breath.