Destroy Me

by Laura Bailey

She had put off checking her phone but she grabbed hold of it now, and saw again that there had been no communication from Damien. She threw the phone across the room, hitting the wall.

  “Rot in hell Damien.” She shouted at the phone, lying now on the floor.

  “Fucking men.”

  She included Chambers and Mike in the sentiment. The sooner she got back to London and her old job the better.

  She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea. Opening the fridge she realised she had no milk. It would have to be black, like her mood.

  Damien’s mission had been pulled off without a hitch; smoothly, efficiently and effectively. The team had landed back in D.C. in the early hours, under the cover of night, without the knowledge of the good citizens of Washington. Suffice it to say, that particular terrorist group were no longer on the loose to carry out their threats to America or any other Nation. Damien knew that their actions, dangerous as they had been, were for the greater cause; no more lives would be lost by those particular men. For that reason, he was deeply satisfied.

  Collecting his car at the airport, he headed back into D.C., aching for a long hot shower and some much needed sleep. He had spent the last few nights on watch, sleeping only a few hours in the daytime. He would check his emails and messages in the morning. They could wait until he had got some rest. For now, he just needed his bed.

  Several hours later, he woke, rested and ready to return to the office. Showering quickly, he dressed and grabbed his phone. As he headed out to his car, he saw a series of missed calls and texts, all from Tara.

  Tara heard her ring tone and realised her phone was ringing. She rushed to pick it up where it lay face down on the floor against the wall. She’d thought she’d broken it.

  There was no caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Tara.”

  Her heart began to pound furiously.

  “I see we had an appointment yesterday. Unfortunately, I was unavailable. I thought perhaps you would like to have that appointment this evening instead?”

  He would see her again. Just one more time. It would be the last time, he told himself.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I will meet you there.”

  “Ok..but what time?”

  “9pm. I’ll be in the Bar.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Approaching the Club that evening, she was completely on edge. She was excited to be seeing Damien, knowing what was to follow, but in the back of her mind she wondered if he had someone else. She was also frightened of running into Marc Chambers again.

  As she entered the bar, she spotted him immediately at the table where they had sat before and relief flooded through her.

  He saw her and stood; his physique stimulating her instantly as she watched him make his way over to her, the fluid movements of his graceful, powerful body. God she had missed him.

  As he closed in on her, his face was expressionless but his eyes gave away his intentions.

  “Hello Tara.”

  He took hold of her by the arm, a gesture now so familiar to her. Even more so now, she needed his firm touch, his control; to reassure her. He led her up the stairs and along the landing. He took the key from his pocket, looking into her eyes silently before unlocking the door. He pulled her inside and closed the door.

  Already taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, instantly she forgave him everything.

  Lifting her up, he carried her to the bed, placing her face down. “Is this what you wanted? Again?” His voice was low, almost a whisper against her.

  Lifting up the back of her dress he uncovered her buttocks, her cream panties showing.

  She heard him unzip his trousers. She couldn’t see as he pulled out his cock, hard as it always was the moment he saw her body.

  He slapped it against her buttocks, with difficulty where it was so hard, but as the head of his cock slapped down on her soft white skin, he ran his hand between her legs, grasping her pussy in his hand.

  “You need to open your legs for me. You know where I want to spank you next.”

  Pulling on her panties he tugged them down, exposing her to him. He saw the wetness between her lips and was unable to stop himself from wanting to taste her, to inhale her scent again.

  His mouth took all of her in, sucking on her, pulling her lips into his mouth, his tongue entering her, going deep inside her.

  She pushed back against his mouth, rotating her hips, her clitoris rubbing against his mouth. Just as she felt she would explode against him, he pulled his tongue out of her, brought his hand up and started slapping her clitoris, not harshly, but strong enough to feel the stinging impact as it made her clitoris to throb urgently each time. Desperate to come, desperate for him to fuck her, she was on fire.

  “Please Damien.”

  “What do you need Tara?”

  He was teasing her badly. She was unable to turn around, with his hands on her hips holding her down.

  “Tell me.”

  “I need you to fuck me.”

  “You know you’re going to get it hard now, as always; you know I’m going to punish you, don’t you?”

  Pushing her legs wider apart he thrust into her, focused only on the sight of her underneath him, her legs spread wide; her sweet symmetrical lips open and wet for his cock as it ploughed inside of her. He felt the tightness of her muscles inside of her as they gripped onto him, pulling him inside; her generous ass framed between his thighs as he fucked her.

  His cock was filling her, sending her into mindless abandon as she heard to his groans of pleasure.

  “Your pussy takes hold of me so tightly, it’s such a perfect fit; it’s like they were made to be together.”

  As he fucked her with long strokes, his arms locked around her. She could stay like that forever, impaled by him, so complete inside of her. With him she became whole. As he came inside her, he took her with him.

  “God woman, I have missed this.”

  He eased his weight from her, pulling his cock out of her as he did it.

  She turned around, getting more comfortable on the bed.

  “Why didn’t you reply to me yesterday?”

  “I told you.”

  “You said you were ‘unavailable.’”

  “Yes I did.”

  He leant over to the bedside table to open the bottle of champagne he had ordered earlier.

  “What does that mean?”

  He turned round to her, a look of irritation on his face.

  “Exactly what I said. Why are you questioning me?”

  “Can’t you at least be civil? God, you’re so cold.”

  She rose from the bed and went to stand by the window. She hadn’t meant it to come out quite so vociferously, but she was offended by his careless, detached attitude, her emotions getting the better of her.

  “Come here.”

  “You don’t get to make the rules anymore. Remember? You freed me.”

  “Really? You’d like to put that to the test?”

  “Perhaps.” She stood, resolutely.

  With one stride he was off the bed and on her, her arms pinned either side of her, pushed back against the wall. Looking down into her face he towered over her.

  “Do not move.”

  He backed away from her and sat on the bed, facing her.

  “You will do as I tell you. You know I am fully capable of making you. Now take off your dress.”

  Excited, turned on by his command, loving the natural dominance of him, she pulled her dress up over her head and pulled it off, throwing it to the floor.

  He rose, picked it up and went to her. He rolled the dress up and brought it to her face, covering her eyes and forming a knot in the back of it behind her head.

  “Keep still.”

  She was resisting him with her hands.

  “I can’t see anything.”

  “That’s the point, my dear. You don’t need to be able to see anything. I do. I want to watch as y
ou play with yourself.”

  Shocked by his suggestion, she froze.

  “Play with your pussy. I want to watch you. I want to see you make yourself cum. I want to watch you being a naughty girl, rubbing your clit for me.”

  She could see only the shadow of him through the layers of her dress, could not see the bulge in his trousers as he got hard at just the thought of watching her.

  “Tara, I will spank you so hard if you do not do as I tell you. And I mean hard, no little slaps this time.”

  The words he used and the sound of his voice excited her so much, she was aroused just listening to him. The thought of him watching her filled her with erotic longing. Her hand moved to her stomach, and slowly she moved it down farther, over her soft mound, until she felt the cleft between her lips and the wetness there from his cum moments earlier, as it was starting to drip from inside of her. With the wet stickiness she began to rub her fingers on her clitoris, instantly feeling it throb, still aroused from him fucking her only minutes ago.

  “Do not stop until you cum. Open your legs wider; I want to see it all.”

  She looked divine, his dirty, naughty girl, her thighs spread for him, her pussy dripping wet with his cum.

  His cock was straining badly. Taking hold of it as he sat there watching her play with herself for him, he stroked it slowly, wanting to fuck her desperately, to pound her, to cum in her again, to cover her in cum and claim her as his.

  “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met; the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

  She could barely see him through the dress covering her eyes, but she thought she could see the shadow of his hand, holding his cock, stroking it as he watched her and the dark vision of it felt like an erotic forbidden taboo, the thought of it as her fingers rubbed faster against her clit making her come with a deep shudder, her legs trembling as they weakened.

  “Good girl. Now come here.”

  She pulled off the dress from her eyes quickly, and the sight of him was incredible; the muscles of his arm flexed as he held his cock, so erect, so thick. As she looked at it he ran his hand up and down it, slowly, sensuously, looking into her eyes.

  “Get down on your knees and open your mouth.”

  Standing up from the bed he looked down at the submissive image of her, her mouth open to receive him, and he pushed his cock into her mouth, pushing it in as far as she could take it, before pulling it out and slapping it on her lips, the sound of it exciting them both, the sensation as it hit her soft lips sublime, her eyes locked onto his as he did it, the perfect obedience of her dark needs for him encouraging him more.

  Slapping his cock across her face, she held his eyes in acceptance of his deviance, encouraging him further, seeking his loving punishment.

  “Lay down on the bed.”

  She stood and lay on the bed as he stood over her, reaching down to pull her breasts out from the restraints of her bra. It made them stand upright, erect, like his cock. He played with them with one hand as his other held onto his cock, stroking it again slowly.

  He quickly grabbed her by the legs pulling her round and raising them flat against his chest, her feet by his shoulders. Reaching down to cup her ass, he thrust his cock into her instantly, hard long thrusts going deep into her as he began to pound her, staring down into her eyes as he claimed her, watching the darkness of her eyes as they held his, the desire they held for him astonishing him, the depth of them incredible.

  “My love. You have no idea..”

  His thrusts continued, slower for a while, taking his time to savour her, until he could hold back no more, and he came hard inside her, his eyes holding hers with a possession that pulled her to him.

  Releasing her he bent down to her and kissed her with a passion that took her breath away, his hands cupping her face, stroking her hair.

  In that moment she knew that she adored him.

  “I’ll run you a bath.”

  “Bathe with me.”

  “There’s not really room for both of us!”

  He went into the bathroom and she rose from the bed to follow him.

  “Stay here tonight Tara. I have to go but I’ll be back tomorrow evening. I want you to be here for me.”

  “Stay with me?”

  “I have to go.”

  He kissed her softly, tenderly, his lips brushing against hers, turning into a long slow full kiss, his hand gripping the back of her hair head.

  He dressed quickly and she stood at the door of the bathroom watching in admiration, marvelling at the magnificence of his beautiful body again. The Gods had been generous when he had been created; his muscles so perfectly formed across his stomach and his thighs so strong, but when she looked at his face, it seemed that it held a glimpse of pain, and in his eyes was a storm of emotion, clearly evident. He was an enigma to her. He would come to her, for a short while, and then he would inevitably leave.

  “Damien. Are you married?”

  His head shot up at her comment.

  “Of course not. There’s no-one Tara. Now, I need to go.”

  He walked to the door, smiling at her as he left, yet his eyes looked sad.

  She curled up on the bed, relived to have been reunited with him but upset by his departure, tears forming in her eyes, though she didn’t know if it was for herself or for him. She lay there, trying to understand him, but she had little to go on. Suddenly she realised she hadn’t told him about the incident the night before with Marc Chambers, who could well be in the Club now, on the floor below her. She’d wanted to tell Damien about what had happened, but in the heat of their encounter she’d forgotten all about it. She saw little reason to stay the night here now Damien had left, but already in bed, and not wanting to bump into Chambers, it seemed the best option to remain.

  With conflict in his head Damien walked down the stairs of the Club. He had wanted to stay. He could easily spare the time. It wasn’t work that pulled him away from her. He ran a multi-million dollar business, but he knew how to delegate.

  The reason why he was running out on her again had nothing to do with business. He just couldn’t be with her. He couldn’t be with anyone.

  “Good Night Hamilton,” Damien said as he passed the doorman.

  Hamilton was an old timer who had given his service in Vietnam, and now stood sentry at the Club. He was always immaculate in presentation and protocol.

  “Good night Mr Lawson. You take care now.”

  “Thanks Hamilton, will do, you too, ok?”

  Damien was a generous benefactor of Veteran’s charities, anonymously donating huge sums.

  He made his way through the doors and out down the steps to his car. His body felt depleted; drained by Tara. His drive was short, and in the peace of his empty apartment he headed to one of the rooms. With the money he had he could afford state of the art equipment, but he preferred simplicity. The room was of simple design; a boxing bag and mats. He quickly removed his jacket and shirt.

  The sensation had been growing in him all night, like nails being hammered bit by bit into his skin. Stripped to the waist, he started to pound the bag with his fists, smashing into it without gloves, vicious full-blown punches. He landed them with staggering ferocity, venom directed at an unseen foe, and as he continued, a sheen of sweat began to glisten across his chest, the veins standing out with the strain of his actions. He reined blow after blow unrelentingly until eventually they became slower, exhaustion claiming his body, and as he slowed, his tears began to fall, spilling down his face. He bent down to the floor, as dark, desperate shadows threatened to consume to him.

  He had fled from Tara like a thief in the night and retreated to his own domain; for fear that she would see him like this.

  He couldn’t allow her to see him weakened, haunted. He couldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t let anyone in; he couldn’t bear to lose anyone again. He had lost too many that were close to him, over the years. He needed to keep his distance from her, not allow her to develop the same
depths of feelings that he already had for her. It would destroy him. It would break him. He had been told once, by someone who had served with him for many years, that what he had was Survivor’s guilt. That sometimes he hadn’t been able to save his comrades, and innocent people, from being killed haunted him. It made him feel that he should not have survived, that he didn’t deserve happiness, that he deserved only to suffer.

  He sat in the dark as the tears fell, unable to stop them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following morning Tara showered, dressed and tried to fix her hair. It knotted so easily because of its length and now it was matted in places from the night before. She hadn’t thought of packing a brush, nor make-up remover. Her mascara had run when she had cried and now there were smudges under her eyes that the soap in the bathroom hadn’t managed to clean off. Her dress too was crumpled as she put it back on, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  She left the room and went downstairs. Crossing the lobby to the exit she heard her name from behind. Turning, she froze. Marc Chambers was standing straight behind her at the entrance of the Bar. Why was he here at this time, surely it wasn’t open yet?

  “Here so early Tara?”

  His manner was smooth yet lacking any friendliness.

  “Actually, I’m just leaving.”

  “So am I, I will take you.”

  “You have no idea where I’m going.”

  “Looking like that, I would assume you are going home to freshen up after what must have been one wild night.”

  His tone held salaciousness in it, full of puerile insinuation. The man seemed to know no boundaries. She glared at him, embarrassed and angry now.

  “As you seem to know, I don’t live far away. I intend to walk.”

  “And as I told you the night before Tara, Washington can be a very dangerous place, particularly for someone as you.”

  Why did he keep talking about danger? Why did he sound again like he was threatening her? She didn’t like the way the conversation was going. He was making her extremely uncomfortable.

  “I have to go.”

  She turned away from him and walked out of the Club, although she knew he was going to follow her.