by Dani René
I don’t know what he has planned for when he catches me, and he will, but my stomach flutters with excitement. The next sound is even closer, and I push away from the tree, racing through the shadows, and that’s when his movements become noticeable.
I’m taunting the hunter.
I’m teasing the beast.
Suddenly, he’s on me. His body on top of mine, as we fall to the ground. The coolness against my cheek is only there for a second or two, before Damien pulls me to my feet, his grip on my wrists is solid. I find myself against one of the trees before he starts weaving a rope around my wrists.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted to play,” he responds, in a voice that sounds nothing like him. It causes my heart to stutter in my chest. The fear is intoxicating, but the excitement of what’s to come is exhilarating.
Once I’m bound to the thick trunk, unable to get away from him again, he steps back and regards me. Even in the dark, his eyes seem luminous. Shards of silver light come from above us, the moon shining down, watching us, as we play our game.
Damien pulls a knife from his belt, the glint of metal shimmers, forcing a gasp to tumble from my lips.
“Open your mouth,” he tells me. He takes a step toward me, stopping only once he’s inches from me. When I open my mouth, he places the blade between my teeth and says, “bite down on this.” I do, much to his satisfaction.
My eyes track him, as he drops down in front of me, his hands tugging at my yoga pants, pulling them down. He helps me out of them, and the cool night air tickles my exposed skin. A shiver races through me, causing my legs to shake, but Damien’s hot mouth is on me, his tongue lapping at me, as his hands push my legs wider.
When I look down, the sight nearly undoes me. His blue eyes, now dark, are staring up at me, as he licks and laves at me as if I were his sustenance. Perhaps I am, but the moment two of his fingers dip inside me, my toes curl in my socks. My thighs shake, and the tightness in my lower stomach twists and teases, just like his mouth on my pussy.
He diminishes every fear, each anxious thought, and all my pain with a single touch. He doesn’t relent the moment my orgasm hits, and a cry is ripped from my chest, muffled by the blade between my teeth, into the emptiness that surrounds us. He rises in one fluid motion. The hiss of his zipper is all I hear. I watch in awe, as he fists himself, the thickness that’s about to fill me is hard and ready.
With his hands on my thighs, Damien lifts my legs, and I wrap them around his taut waist. He nudges my entrance, eyes glowing, smirk firmly in place, and sinks into me inch by torturously thick inch.
“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth. His forehead touching mine, making our connection even closer. He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing me to adjust before he pulls out slowly and thrusts back in. The gentle way he’s fucking me causes tears to burn my eyes.
Emotion emanates from him like a cologne. It’s not only about sex. It’s also not just lust and need or desire, it’s more. And he’s showing me with his body. His mouth crashes to mine, stealing my moans and whimpers, as he moves inside me, filling me to the hilt, before teasing back out.
My hips undulate, my slick walls pulse around him, taking him in deep, needing him to fill a void I knew I always had. It haunted me for so long, but with him, it feels complete.
He drives in, hitting parts of me that are not just physical. He’s nudging my heartache and fear, he’s fucking my agony and anxiety, he’s owning every part of me, and I allow it because I cannot refuse him anything.
Love doesn’t find you when you want it or look for it. The feeling comes silently in the darkness and slices you open, burying itself in your veins, in your bones, right down to the marrow.
Love captures you when you least expect it, and it’s a cut so deep, I’m afraid it will never heal if he were to walk away. But as he claims my mind, body, and soul, I am convinced that he can’t leave me, just as much as I can’t leave him.
I blink, and the heartbreak trickles down my cheeks in salty tracks. The kiss turns heated when Damien’s tongue dances with mine. A soft, pain-filled connection that pours our emotions into each other. And as we fuck and kiss, and cry and moan, I realize I’ve fallen in love with him.
The same way he’s telling me with his body how much he loves me.
40
Nesrin
The sun hasn’t risen when I open my eyes. I know today is the day I need to see my mom, Mallory. Last night, everything was too much to even consider going to her. If I had, I may have said things I shouldn’t have said. It was safer to clear my head and think about what to tell her.
Now that I’m focused, I can go over and try to figure out how I’m going to deal with the truth. I also need to tell Marcia, who I now know is my aunt, that I want to leave with Damien. It’s my life, my choice; I’m old enough to leave, she can’t stop me.
After our run last night, Damien and I sat in his bedroom, looking over options for me to go to school in London. Even though my dream would be Oxford, I’ve come to the conclusion that I would much rather be free of the lies in Thorne Haven, and the family I thought would love me, and find my own path.
If this had happened a few years ago, I’m not sure I could’ve been as strong as I am right now. Deep down, there is still a twinge of anxiety that twists in my gut, at the thought of what’s going to happen today, but it’s nothing compared to what I used to feel.
The run last night eased my need to cut. I told Damien I’d like to talk to a professional as well. And he promised the moment we got to London, he’d make an appointment with a couple of therapists who his dad is friends with, and I’ll be able to meet with them, before settling on my choice. The thought of him supporting me definitely makes me feel special, and last night, something shifted between us. We may not have said the words, but they burned on the tip of my tongue.
If he hadn’t been kissing me at the time, I may have muttered them out loud. But I’m not sure either of us is ready for that.
Pushing off the bed, I pad toward the bathroom to get ready for the day. If I don’t do it now, I’ll most probably hide out until Damien announces that we’re leaving. He’s delayed his flight till tonight, which gives me time to talk to Mallory and Marcia.
The moment I walk into the kitchen, Joy looks up with a smile on her face. She’s always in a good mood, happy, affectionate, nothing like the woman I grew up with.
“How are you, dear?” Joy asks, offering me a mug of coffee, and a plate of toast dripping with honey. It’s what I have every morning when I come down.
“I’m good. Tired, but okay. And you?”
“I’m always great. There’s no reason to be sad, life may bring dark clouds, but the sun will always shine afterward.” With a wink, she leaves me to eat in silence. I’m finishing up my toast when Marcia walks into the kitchen, her body language is rigid, and the air in the room cools considerably.
“Nesrin.”
I open my mouth to greet her, but I have no idea what to call her, so all I say is, “Morning.” I watch her move around the room, opening cabinets, trying to find the mugs. When she does, she fills it with coffee, before turning to me.
I’m nervous. It’s strange. Now that I know the truth, it’s almost as if we’re no longer able to talk. But I know I need to.
“I’m going to London with Damien. Today, I’ll be going to see Mallory, mom, whatever she is to me.” The words come out in a whoosh, and my throat tightens at the idea of what I’m about to do. “I want to be with Damien. And I don’t care what barriers you and Bradford put in place. I’m done caring about people who lie to me.”
I glance up to find shock painted on her features. But after a long while, she nods. “I should never have kept it a secret for so long, and I certainly shouldn’t have told Mallory to lie to you either.” Even though I don’t want to fall into the trap of believing something that isn’t true, I’m almost certain her voice is laced with guilt.
“No, y
ou shouldn’t have. Even when Dad left, that was the perfect moment to come clean, and you chose not to. I’ve struggled my whole life with depression, and you never cared. You never treated me like a caring mother should. But now, it makes sense, since you’re not my mother.”
At that moment, Damien saunters into the kitchen, and I’m fearful Marcia is going to kill him after my admission, but she lowers her head, shaking it slowly, as she looks at the floor.
“I’ve never been good with emotion. I had to be strong for so long, looking after my parents when they got sick, and I blamed Mallory for being the young, carefree person I wanted so badly to be.” When she lifts her head, she looks directly at me. “I wanted to have my own life, but after you were old enough, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth.”
She sets the mug down, as Damien moves behind me, his hands on my shoulders, offering me his strength as the tears trickle down my cheeks. He doesn’t kiss me or offer anything more than his hold on me, but it’s enough.
“I’m sorry, Nesrin. I’m so sorry. And I know it’s not something I can make up for with a meager apology, but for now, it’s all I have.”
I glance at Damien, and he pulls out my chair, allowing me to stand. I go to her, but I don’t hug her, I don’t even touch her. “I can’t forgive you right now, it hurts far too much, but I can thank you for your apology. Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to look at you without anger.”
I turn around and head out of the kitchen, leaving her to mull over my words. Damien is beside me seconds later, his arm wrapping around my waist.
“Are you okay?”
I nod. “I am. Will you take me to see Mallory?”
“Of course.” He’s my rock. He’s become my savior in ways I didn’t realize I needed. And I love him for it. A smile curves my lips because, I know now, today will be the day I can finally admit it. I want to tell him how I feel.
41
Nesrin
The fortress in front of us, as we make our way up the drive, looms over the hill like a king sitting on his throne. My stomach somersaults at the thought of seeing her face to face, knowing the truth.
“Are you okay, wild rose?” Damien’s voice captures my attention. I nod, but I don’t know if it’s the truth. His eyes are so blue today; they remind me of the ocean, shimmering with affection. With love.
“I will be. I just need her to tell me the truth. I know Marcia did, but she’s my mother, Damien.”
“I know. She should’ve been the one to come clean.” His hand finds mine, his fingers tangling with my own. Just like before, he’s the only thing keeping me afloat. “You’ll get through this. You’re strong.”
I glance at him. “I’m only strong because you’re here. You’re my strength.” My voice is a husky whisper, filled with worry at my life taking a whole new path I never planned for.
“Listen to me,” he says. “You’ve been strong all your life. I’m merely a life raft you hold onto every now and then. And I’ll be by your side until you no longer want me.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“I mean if I tire you out with all the sex we’ll be having, you may want to break up. But then again, why would you want to walk away from this face.” He winks cockily, the smirk that I’ve come to love is firmly in place, and I can’t help but giggle.
“Come on, Handsome,” I say, pressing my lips to his. “Let’s get this over with.” I push open my door and meet Damien at the passenger side of the car, before walking up the path toward the entrance.
Creed steps out onto the gravel and offers us the once over, noticing our hands linked. A smirk curls his full lips. He’s dressed in a black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and a dark band tee that looks like it’s seen better days.
“The brand-new couple,” he says when we reach him. “You two have certainly caused a stir.”
Damien asks the question I have as well, “What do you mean?”
Creed meets the stare of his former best friend. “I just overheard Dad talking to Bradford. Apparently, your girl over here has decided jumping on your dick is better than mine. Just kidding.” He chuckles, looking at us both, before saying, “Good luck. It’s time you found someone worthy of you.” His comment is directed at Damien, and I’m shocked when he holds out a hand. “I’m done playing war with my best friend.” The tension between the two is strangled, but Damien grips his hand, and they shake on it. For a moment, I watch them connect. The friendship they had clearly meant something to them both. And when Creed walks off, I know Damien’s happy they found common ground again.
We find Mallory in the kitchen, led there by the maid, who greeted us only a day ago. When we step into the spacious, modern room, my mother looks up, and her eyes widen in shock.
“I wasn’t expecting you today,” she says, her smile sickly sweet. She doesn’t know. “Can I get you a coffee or something stronger?” Her gaze, that matches mine, flits between Damien and me.
“No. We… I wanted to talk to you.” I’m shaking, my hands are trembling, even with Damien’s fingers laced through mine. She doesn’t miss a beat, noticing the physical connection.
“Oh.” Her dark brows lift in surprise. “I heard you’d spoken to your folks, well, your step—”
“You’re my mother.” The words whoosh out in one short breath, interrupting whatever she wanted to say. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to learn it from your sister.” I’m so confused. My mind feels like it’s been twisted in a thousand different directions and, right now, the only thing that makes sense is him—Damien.
Mallory’s mouth opens, then shuts. The guilt that pains her expression is enough to tell me she certainly wasn’t expecting this. Neither was I, Mommy.
“Can we sit? Talk?”
Her words send a burst of anger to my chest, warming me with emotions that I’ve always buried and allowed to flow free with the cuts on my thighs. I’ve never known how to express myself vocally but, right now, I find that the damn wall is about to crash wide open.
“I don’t know why I’m even here. You pawned me off on your sister, so you could travel around the world and then marry a man we didn’t know about. Not even bothering to tell us, your family. To have three new sons to look after, instead of caring about your daughter?” The anger that I’d been holding back floods through me, and it comes out as a tirade of words that I never knew I had been biting my tongue on. “I grew up idolizing you, looking up to you. I was depressed for most of my life because my dad walked out, and it was all because of you.”
“Nesrin, I didn’t mean—”
“No!” Releasing Damien’s hand, I take a step closer to her, nearing the woman who gave me life. “This time, you’re listening to me. I spent my life cutting myself because I didn’t know how to communicate. Your sister was cold, aloof, and she hated me from the moment I knew what that emotion meant.”
Behind me, I hear Damien’s feet shuffle on the ground. His boots confirming that he’s there, if I need him. He doesn’t make a sound to remind me of his presence. He doesn’t need to say a word. My silent anchor.
“I hurt myself time and again. I believed my father hated me, and I knew my mother did, too. Only, she wasn’t my mother. She was a woman who raised a little girl because her sister was too much of a fucking coward to step up and admit to her mistakes.”
“Please, Nesrin,” she pleads, but all I see is red.
“You know what, I spent my life wanting to be like you. But now I see that I’m, thankfully, nothing like you, and I never will be. Because you know what, Mom, I will always take responsibility for my misgivings. And when I do make a mistake, I’ll own up to it, no matter how painful it is.”
The words finally slow down, my throat burning, and my eyes filling with angry tears. I blink slowly, allowing them to trickle from me, to wash away the rage that’s slowly burning through every vein in my body.
“I didn’t mean for you to go through that. I believed she’d be there for you. Even though
her love for her career took all her focus, I thought, I really thought, she’d love you.”
No amount of apologies can make up for what I went through. I don’t blame anyone for my choices. Even though I was a child and needed the stability and guidance of a parent, I was the one who picked up the blade. I knew what I was doing, even when I didn’t realize it at the time.
“I’m disappointed that the woman I thought I knew is not the person I grew up with as my hero.” My voice breaks, as the overload of emotions from the past couple of days takes its toll. “I’m leaving tonight. I won’t be back for a long time. I don’t know how to move past this pain,” I tell her solemnly, gesturing between us. “But I know I’m strong. I’m so much stronger than either you or Mom, Marcia, gave me credit for. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve admitted them, and I’m willing to work through them.”
“Don’t go. Stay, and we can get to know each other. There’s a good school a town over. I’m sure Bradford will be happy for you to live there, or, if you’d like, you can stay here.”
“No. I’m leaving. I need to get away from the lies, from the darkness of you and your sister.”
“Then promise me you’ll write, text, call, something?” she pleads, grabbing my hands in hers and holding onto them. Those eyes that always sparkled with life, with happiness, are dull and filled with pain.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I just need you to know I loved you. When I found out I was pregnant, it was the happiest time of my life, but your father was in love with my sister, and… And I knew I would never be able to raise you on my own. All I wanted was for you to have a normal family.”
“And all I ever wanted was a mother who loved me.”
The tears flow freely now, hers and mine. The pain that hangs in the air between us is palpable. So thick, you could cut it with a knife.