A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses Book 1)

by Dani René

  “Get in the fucking car, Nesrin,” Damien bites out through gritted teeth. He’s apprehensive. Surely, he should be calmer since he’s just come in my mouth. But he seems even more anxious than before.

  “Why? I’m not one of your—”

  He shuts me up with a kiss. His lips mold to mine, searing every inch of me, with a swipe of his tongue. He doesn’t touch me, he doesn’t press his body against mine, he merely consumes every thought I have with a single touch of his mouth to mine.

  Our tongues dance against each other, the flavor of the alcohol mingles between us, and I can’t stop myself from lacing my hands around his neck. My fingers tangle in his jet-black hair, and I tug the strands, earning me a growl that has my thighs squeezing together.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, I’m breathless and still angry at him. But then he lifts his gaze, locks it on mine and smirks.

  “If you don’t get in the car, I’m going to go back to the party, and I’m going to have Brittany, or any of those other groupies spread their legs for me. And you know what will happen then? I’m going to enjoy fucking the frustration of not being able to have you, out on them.”

  My mouth falls open in shock, and my hand has a mind of its own when I lift it, slapping Damien across the face. He stumbles backward, and I make my escape. Anger surges through me, which has my feet racing from the party.

  I can hear him call for me, but I ignore it. I know he’ll follow. The darkness swallows me, and I blink back the tears. The salty emotion is streaming down my cheeks, and I taste the flavor of my sadness. But I don’t know why I’m sad. I knew Damien wasn’t mine. I should’ve expected him to want other girls.

  I don’t know why I’m angry, but I am. I’m halfway through the thick crop of trees when I hear it. A howl, so deep and pained that I stop dead in my tracks. I spin around, but I’m lost in the night, and there’s no light, not even from the party I just left behind.

  I turn back to the way I was heading and start running. I don’t know what’s out there, but I don’t feel like being prey tonight. My lungs ache. My legs burn. And my chest is tight with my erratic heartbeat slamming against my ribs by the time I reach the lake. From here, I can see the silver bed of water, and I move forward, finding a pathway around the water, and to the other side. I’m guessing that’s how Creed found us when we had our night run.

  Once I reach the other side, I run once more. My feet have a mind of their own, and I trust my instinct. It doesn’t take me long to see the mansion before me.

  In the darkness, there’s a foreboding sense of awareness that takes hold of me. But I ignore it and head inside. Thankfully, I’m able to get to my bedroom before I hear the front door open, and Damien’s voice bounces off the walls.

  “Nesrin fucking Ellington!” I ignore him, locking myself inside.

  I’m not sure what mood he’ll be in when he comes through there, but I don’t want to see him. I head into the bathroom and turn on the shower, before stripping off my clothes.

  Sweat drips from me. My gaze finds my reflection in the mirror, and I take in my bright rosy cheeks and my plump lips that are still shimmery from the kiss.

  Shaking my head, I step under the spray and stand there for a moment, trying to clear my mind of the image of Damien and another girl doing things that I want him to do with me. But no matter how much I try to ignore it, to not feel jealousy raging through me, I can’t.

  Picking up my razor, I stare, for a long while, at the silver blades. I have to decide if it’s worth it. Is it? I nod. Unclipping the blades, I take one in hand and lean against the cold tiles. Under the spray, I slide down until my ass hits the ground. I spread my legs, taking in the scars that are already there.

  With a deep breath, I slip the blade across my skin, watching in awe at the crimson trickling from the cut. Biting pain shoots through me. My lungs finally feel as if they’re working as they pull in enough air to offer serenity. And my mind is cleared of the memory that has been haunting me since I first saw Damien Thorne.

  I don’t want to admit his words hurt. But I’m here because this is how I deal with the emotional war that’s raging inside me. Even though I know it’s not only about him, my cuts run deeper than I’ve ever admitted. And I just don’t know how to find relief anyway else.

  As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m still a little girl who wants her mother to be proud of her. It only hurts for a second, before I need one more just to clear the tension in my muscles. The water steals my evidence, and it rushes down the drain, along with my guilty tears.

  I drop my head back against the wall, and I close my eyes. Those blue eyes haunt me. They remind me of what I can never have. The moment he has to admit his feelings to the world, he’ll realize I’m too young, and he’s my stepbrother.

  Suddenly, the door bursts open, breaking on the hinges, and Damien stands there, looking like he’d just fought through an army to get to me. My heart surges, coming to life and thudding wildly against my chest. The lump in my throat thickens when his gaze lands on the blade in my hand, and more guilt washes over me.

  He doesn’t wait. He races toward me, where I’m drenched. With one shove, he pushes the glass door so hard, I’m surprised it didn’t shatter. But that’s just Damien, a controlled storm.

  When he enters a room, people fall at his feet simply because he graced them with his presence. And I am the one who keeps fighting the need to be one of those admirers.

  He glowers, the rage that’s simmering through him right now is reaching boiling point as he looks at me. The blue igniting to the true shade of an open flame. They say that pure hydrocarbons burn with a blue flame, and that’s what his eyes look like right now, searing me.

  “Get out of the shower.” His words are stern, filled with frustration. Slowly, I push up, still holding onto the small, silver blade. “Get. Out. Of. The. Shower.” The hint of barely restrained rage drips from every word. When I step out onto the rug, Damien rushes forward and wraps me in a fluffy towel. I expect him to shout at me. To curse and scream, but all he does is lean in, so his mouth is at my ear. “Get on the bed and wait for me,” he orders, in a gruff voice that I’ve come to recognize as Damien not needing me to argue.

  The no-nonsense tone sends sparks of awareness through me. I’m in trouble. His fists clench, and his expression is wrought with frustration and anger at my actions. I don’t blame him. If the tables were turned, I’d feel the same, and guilt slowly morphs into a heavy weight in my stomach.

  My heart is kicking against my ribs, needing an escape because, with every interaction with Damien, it wants him more and more.

  He releases me, and I pad slowly into the bedroom, which is warmer than I anticipated. I slide up onto the mattress and lie back. I’m not sure if I should put clothes on, but for some reason, I just want to obey Damien.

  It doesn’t take him long to join me. He’s still in boxers, as he walks to the foot of the bed. Silence hangs overhead, heavy and resounding. Guilt grips me, and so do his hands. He takes hold of my ankles and spreads my legs lewdly. The towel falls away, and all that’s left is me. Bared. Not only my body, but my heart and soul.

  The glare he rakes over me makes me blush, as embarrassment burns my cheeks. He looks furious. It seems his two default settings when he’s around me are angry and horny—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He tugs me down the mattress, earning him a squeak of surprise. And then my legs are hanging over the edge, while my top half is still on the soft mattress. I expect him to spank me or shout at me, but that’s not what happens next.

  His knee comes up between my thighs, pressing against my core. A whimper falls free from my lips, and I watch as his mouth tilts into a satisfied smirk, as he finds pleasure in making me feel things for him.

  “You’re being punished tonight,” he tells me, as he rubs his knee against me, up and down, the slow motion turning my body hot and needy. My toes curl as pleasure zips down my spine and over every inch of my s
kin.

  Goosebumps appear on my exposed flesh. His taunting makes me angry and vengeful, but if I slap him again, I might get more punishment than is already in the cards.

  “Fuck you, Damien,” I bite out, trying to buck him off me, but he doesn’t move. His hands come down on either side of my head. I’ve never been so exposed to anyone before. Not even the night I thought I was going to lose my virginity.

  His one hand strokes my neck, gently at first, but then he wraps his fingers around the column of my throat. He holds me still but doesn’t squeeze. His other hand snakes down to my inner thigh, where it comes back with crimson on his fingertips.

  I watch him wide-eyed when he presses the pads of his fingers to his tongue and licks the blood with a grin that’s filled with feral lust. He hums, eyes fluttering, as he takes me in.

  “If you ever,” he starts speaking in a low, threatening tone. Slow and steady. “Ever do that again…” The words come to a halt when his other hand tightens around my throat. The air I was so freely inhaling is stolen, and I lock my gaze on his. It’s a challenge, how far can he take it.

  His leg starts moving again. A whimper escapes me when he chuckles darkly at the sound. When his thigh stills, my hips involuntarily buck, needing the friction on my clit that’s throbbing from the attention. I need a release. The coiling desire in my stomach is tightening, twisting, and I chase the high of an orgasm until Damien pulls his leg away.

  A pained cry tumbles from my lips, and another laugh comes from him. This isn’t punishment; it’s fucking torture.

  The look in his eyes is pure evil when he leans in closer to my mouth. I almost expect him to kiss me, but that wouldn’t be punishment. His tongue darts out, licking my lips. “Do you want it, little sis?” he questions, using the nickname Finn gave me. “Do you want to come all over my leg?”

  His query makes my cheeks heat. We shouldn’t be like this. I know it’s wrong, but I no longer care. I nod. It’s honest, it’s true, and I can’t shy away from my desire that seems to stem from the man before me.

  His fingers glide down my naked body along with his gaze. His mouth finds my nipple, suckling it, before biting down on the hardened bud, which earns him another moan of pleasure.

  But when his fingers find my core, my eyes snap open, locking on pools of blue. I could get lost in them. Perhaps I already have. His fingers tease my entrance, slowly at first, but when he dips a digit inside me, I cry out—the sound, husky, from not having sufficient oxygen.

  He toys with me expertly. Again and again, swirling his fingers over my clit, making my toes curl into the carpet. I’m barely holding onto any semblance of focus because my body is a toy and Damien is playing me like a puppet on a string.

  The climb to the edge is sweet, it’s welcome, it’s everything I want it to be. Suddenly, Damien pulls his hand away, and I can’t help crying out for more, my eyes watering, as he smirks down at me.

  And then, he slaps my pussy—once, twice, three times—before he starts teasing my clit. He pulls away, and another three swats come hard and fast. He continues this rhythm until I’m clawing his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, and suddenly, he dips two fingers into me, causing an eruption so violent, I scream. My eyes shut so tight that I see the fucking starry sky burst with fireworks. I quake under him, and his fingers squeeze all the air from my lungs until I’m a wet shuddering mess.

  I’m no longer here on earth. I’m not on this bed. I’m somewhere else, somewhere I’ve never been. I don’t know how long it takes me to open my eyes again, but when I do, I’m lying with my head on the pillows, and Damien kneeling between my thighs.

  “What…” I glance around, noticing I’m in my bedroom. I feel like I’m no longer in my body. It’s a strange feeling.

  “Nice to see you back with me,” he says, as his hands roam my legs, up to my thighs. And then he’s nestled between my legs. “I was going to fuck you tonight, but you were a bad girl.”

  “I… I got jealous.”

  “I know. I did it to get a reaction out of you,” he tells me. He doesn’t make a move to tease me, but I can feel his hardness pressing against my core.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  He doesn’t look at me, he’s lying on me, but his head is facing the window. I reach up, tangling my fingers in his silky hair. I watch his long lashes flutter, and I wonder if he’s going to fall asleep like this.

  “I’m not someone who’s vulnerable,” he speaks after a long silence. “I don’t allow people to see that side of me. I don’t break, I don’t fall, and I certainly don’t care for people besides my brothers.”

  “Okay.”

  I’m sure he can hear the confusion in my voice, but he doesn’t look at me, even now. I don’t know what else to tell him. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, myself. But, actually, telling him so would make it real. And if I’m merely a fun time for him, while he’s here looking after me, then I don’t want him to know how I feel.

  “You make me vulnerable, Nesrin. You’ve fucking broken through walls I’ve had up for years.” The honesty in his voice is raw, brutal almost, and it steals my breath. “I don’t like this feeling of not being in control, of me, of you, of my fucking feelings.”

  “Are you saying you have feelings for me?” I ask, but I can’t stop the stupid smile from appearing on my face. Damien finally glances up at me, and my stomach flutters because him being so close, looking directly at me, feels as if he’s boring a hole right to my very soul.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  25

  Damien

  Heat sears me. Smooth, silky skin envelops me, and I smile when I open my eyes. Every inch of tanned, caramel flesh is exposed, but it’s the heat from between her thighs that has me hardening.

  I didn’t fuck her like I wanted to. Seeing her hurt herself broke me last night. I opened up; I ripped my chest wide, so she could see what she’s doing to me. As much as I tried to deny it, I have feelings. And they’re nothing like I’ve experienced before.

  She’s still asleep when I reach for her mouth. The pad of my thumb swipes along the plump flesh. Her soft breaths come out faster. Snaking my hand down to her thighs, my fingers delve toward the prize, and I find her wet.

  “Naughty girl,” I murmur, and a small smile creeps up on her lips. “Are you lying there wanting to hump my thigh?” I ask as she curls herself around me.

  “I’m sleeping.” Her reply is drenched with sleep. But I don’t stop my ministrations, pumping my fingers into her body. She’s so fucking tight. I have no idea how she’s going to take me inside her. And I want that, I crave it more than anything else on earth.

  Nesrin mumbles something under her breath, but her hips seem to have a mind of their own. I allow her to find her pleasure on my fingers. My hand soaked in her slick, sweet juices. She trembles when her orgasm rocks through her, and I gently pull my fingers from her body and paint her lips with the scent of her. Leaning in, I kiss her, licking at the flavor that coats her lower lip.

  “You taste good in the morning,” I whisper. Large, golden eyes lock on mine. She holds my stare, the confidence in her expression making me smile. When she’s fire, she burns me from the inside out, and I willingly accept it.

  “I never expected to feel this,” Nesrin says, her voice low, barely even a whisper. The redness on her cheeks blooms like a rose in spring. She’s striking. Even sleepy, post-orgasm, she’s more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever had the pleasure of waking up beside or falling asleep next to.

  “Trust me, wild rose,” I tell her. “Neither did I.” I clean my fingers, lapping the remnants of her from both digits before I roll out of bed and pull on the boxer briefs that found their way to the carpet last night. “We need to talk.”

  Her mouth opens, then closes. She knows what I want to say. A slow nod is all she offers. I feel guilty for spouting shit that hurt her, and I’m not someone who allows my emotions to take hold of me, until last night, until her.<
br />
  “You hurting yourself is wrong. I know it’s something you needed in the past, but…” I settle on the bed beside her and, facing her, I take her hand in mine. “If you ever feel the need to do that, to pick up a blade, come to me.” There’s a plea that hangs on every syllable I utter, and I hope she sees it as so much more than me wanting to control her. It’s about me feeling something.

  “I was so hurt, so angry.” Her eyes are shimmering, and I want to wipe away her pain.

  Nodding, I say, “I get that. But never again. You come to me. Promise me that.” The urgency in my voice is evidence that this girl is slowly undoing me. And I can’t fight it anymore. She’s young, but I no longer give a fuck. She’s legal, eighteen, and nothing is going to stop me from having her for myself.

  A small smile lights up her face, and she nods. “I promise, Damien.” I give her a quick kiss before standing. Her eyes are crotch level with me, and they widen.

  “Don’t you… I mean…” Her words are stilted, nervous energy emanates from her, and I know she’s trying to question my morning wood. It’s cute that she’s so brazen when she’s turned on, but just talking about sex makes her a flustering goddess.

  “We need to practice today. Dance, dance, dance,” I tell her. “Perhaps later we’ll play again, and then I’ll make you scream my name over and over again,” I promise her with a grin, expecting her to refuse, but she smiles and nods.

  “Sounds like a plan.” I would love to take her now, but I’m prolonging it for as long as possible. Not because I don’t want her, but because all I can think of is feeling her pulse around me.

  “Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” I tell her, as I make my way to the door. I’m about to pull it open when I feel her hands on my skin. Her touch warming my back.

  “You’re not really the kiss and cuddle type,” she muses from behind me. “But I’d like a kiss, please?” Her confidence is an aphrodisiac. If I wasn’t hard before, I’m certainly solid steel now.