by Ally Vance
A shiver trailed down my spine at his clumsy touch, his hands cool on my warm body making my nipples harden. I sat up straighter and smiled. His touch was nothing like the time in the kitchen, but I forgave that because he was so upset.
“I just wanted to try something different. Do you like it?”
He sat up and reached out with both hands, threading his thick fingers through my hair, and I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped from my lips at the feel of him this close. Touching me. Wanting me. This was how it should always have been, and now he could see that.
“I liked it curly,” he slurred, but his hands were still knotted in my long lengths, his heated gaze on my face. “It looks nice like this though. Pretty.”
It was wrong to take advantage of him while he was drunk and broken-hearted, yet I found myself leaning in closer, my chest heaving as his hands stroked through my hair and then smoothed themselves up and down my back.
I hated that it took looking like Louise for him to want me like this, but if that’s what it took to finally get my man, then that’s what I would do.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You look so much like her, Anna. I never realized before.”
His hands were back to stroking my hair, but his touch was getting rougher and I forced myself to stay calm and not smile. Not leap for joy and tell him that he’d been mine all along. That I’d been waiting and waiting, and my fucking vibrator had run out of batteries twice since I’d met him.
“She’s not here,” I said, needing him to know that. Needing him to know that she was gone and that it was me now, all me and no Louise. I needed him to give himself over to me fully because when she did come back, he needed to have washed her away.
He released my hair. “I can’t believe that she did this to us. I gave her everything that she wanted, why would she just throw it all away?”
I shrugged pitifully, my hands rubbing my arms. “I warned you what she was like, Damen. How she treats people.”
He nodded pitifully, and I decided I didn’t like this version of Damen. I needed the old Damen back and soon.
“Let me make you a coffee and sober you up. You’ll feel better then,” I said and he nodded, before leaning forwards and putting his face in his hands.
I walked through to the kitchen, making sure to sway my ass as I did. The percolator took an age to boil, as usual, and I used the time to taunt him some more by reaching up to fetch the mugs from the top shelf. My shorts were tiny silk things that barely covered my ass and there was no way he wasn’t looking.
I glanced over my shoulder and found him staring at me, his gaze filled with lust. It wasn’t his fault, I was practically naked and a man like Damen, drunk and who hadn’t had sex in several days only had one thing on his mind. I grinned as I turned back around.
I finished the coffees and carried them into the lounge, placing them on the table opposite and sitting down on the sofa with him. We were cramped up, thigh to thigh and I tucked a leg under me, making sure my silk shorts rode up a little higher.
“I love her,” he said suddenly, blurting it out like those three words didn’t hurt.
“Love her?” I snorted. “She cheated on you and you’ve only been dating, what? A month, six weeks? You can’t love her.”
“I do though. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
I gritted my teeth together, squeezing until I thought they might break and then I released the pressure.
“Try thinking about when you walked in and found her fucking another man instead then,” I replied bitterly, jealousy coursing through me. All this and he still loved her?
“Don’t!” he moaned, his eyes imploring as he grabbed the tops of my arms. “The image of that is burned in my fucking brain. I keep seeing her…him… she was smiling.” He sounded pained as the words slipped out and his grip tightened on me.
“She told me he was great in bed,” I lied, hating the expression on his face. It was like he’d been punched in the gut. “He came back after you left, and I ended up walking the streets until the morning because they were so loud that I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t bear to be in the same apartment as her.” I sighed.
The strap to my camisole slipped off my shoulder, and Damen’s wild eyes followed it.
“That’s why she’s not here. I asked her to leave. I can’t stand what she did to you. I would never do that to you, Damen.”
Damen’s gaze was still on my strap.
On the pale flesh of my body.
His thumb slid along my soft skin as he pushed it back up, but he didn’t release the material from his grasp. Instead he held onto it, holding it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. I shuddered, my nipples hardening more and poking at the thin fabric.
I reached over and placed a hand on his thigh, stroking along the thick muscles that twitched beneath the denim fabric of his jeans. I fluttered my lashes, playing coy when really I was a vixen ready to pounce. But with Damen I needed to take things slow, let him make the decisions, because otherwise he’d resent me instead of wanting me. Instead of needing me like I needed him.
“I want you to fuck me, Damen. Use me, use my body.” The words came out carefully, my tone even and his gaze met mine again, his pupils dilating.
“I can’t,” he mumbled.
I moved my hand to the hard bulge in his jeans. “You can. Fuck Louise out of your system. I want you to.” I rubbed over his length harder this time and he groaned, finally releasing the strap of my camisole. His other hand moved to the other strap and he gently pushed it down off my shoulders.
“I can’t,” Damen said again.
My camisole fell to my waist, revealing my breasts and hard rosebud nipples. “Yes, you can. You deserve to. You deserve me. So use me. Abuse me. Fuck me hard and soft and everything in between, Damen. I want you to.”
Chapter Eight
His eyes flashed like violent lightening as he reached over, wrapping a large hand around the back of my head and pulling me to him. Our mouths came together in a clash of lips, teeth, and tongue. I could taste the alcohol on his breath, as he panted heavily against my lips, his mouth taking a moment as he pressed his forehead against mine.
I reached up, running my fingers through his too long hair. “It’ll be okay,” I soothed, tightening my grip and tipping his head back so I could take his mouth with mine again.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he groaned as I climbed on to his lap, “not until I know what’s happening with Louise and I.”
“It’s over. She’s a whore,” I said, wrapping my legs around his waist. I pressed down against his hard length and he groaned his arms reaching up around my body. “I’m here for you though.” I rocked gently back and forth on him, enjoying the friction the denim gave me and he hissed into my hair as he buried his face against the soft skin of my neck.
“I like that,” he murmured, and I moaned in agreement.
“Let me make you feel good, Damen. Let me make the pain go away.”
His hands found their way to my waist and he pushed me back and forth roughly on him, desperate for more. I dipped my mouth to his, kissing him as my hands fumbled against the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with urgency. The button fought me, but the zipper slid down easily.
“Anna,” he moaned into my mouth as my hand slid around his hard length. I pumped him, feeling the ridges of his cock in my hand.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest. This was finally happening. I was finally getting my man and there was nothing Louise or anyone else could do about it. Our tongue swirled over each other, wine and beer and lust passing between us.
I lifted myself up onto my knees and he shoved his pants down his legs before sliding my silk shorts to one side, and then I was lowering myself carefully down onto him. I didn’t want to rush this. I wanted to enjoy every second as he filled me, stretching me wide as his length pushed into me. I whimpered as my small body got accustomed to his girth, and he waited patiently for me. His cock
twitching as he settled inside of me.
Damen filled me completely. He was hot, hard and delicious and I groaned into the air as I began to rock on him. My chest heaved as he leaned forwards and sucked my nipple into his mouth, his tongue rolling around the hard bud. My hands stayed in his hair, pressing him into my chest, watching my breast surround his face.
“Fuck, Anna,” he gasped as I moved harder on him. Rocking my hips back and forth violently so that every muscle inside me gripped him tightly, holding on to him as we fucked.
His hands slid around my back as he nipped at my nipples and he squeezed at my ass cheeks, a low rumble coming from deep within his chest. The stirrings of an orgasm began in my lower belly, and I arched my back, grinding down on him deeper so he’d hit the spot that made lights flash behind my eyes.
Damen’s hands gripped my waist and he lifted me up and off him and I whimpered as he slid out of me to lay me down on the sofa. His large body covered my small one and he pushed himself back in. His hands on my legs spread me wide and he began to fuck into me harder and harder, chasing his own release as mine began to climb again.
Images of him and I, hand in hand, mouth to mouth, happy together, filled my mind. We were finally together. It was finally happening.
Damen was finally mine!
I called out his name as he doused my insides with cum, his rough fingers digging aggressively into my ass cheeks as he buried his face between my bare breasts, pushing himself deeper into me. I panted and groaned, relishing the tingle in my pussy as it throbbed around him, gripping him tightly. Holding on to him so he would never leave.
“Fuck, Anna,” he called out again, the final tremble of his orgasm thrumming through his body.
He lay his forehead on my chest and I threaded my fingers through his hair, feeling happier than I’d ever felt before. I could have easily cum again if he had been ready. My body was primed, another orgasm on the precipice, but he was already softening inside me.
He looked up at me, his eyes rimmed red from the alcohol or maybe he had been crying over Louise after all, but that was all over now. Now he was mine and I’d make him happier than she ever could.
He reached up with both hands and cupped my face, kissing me long and hard, his tongue soft and warm as it roamed my mouth, exploring me. I shuddered as he twitched inside of me, his body stirring back to life with a simple kiss and flex of my hips, and I squeezed him with my muscles, desperate for more of him. I’d never be done. We’d fuck until we died. Staying here in this apartment together, fucking forever.
I leaned into his touch as he released my mouth and instead held my face in his hands, staring at me intently.
“God, you look so much like her with your hair like that, Anna,” he sighed, his eyes rolling in his head as post-sex tiredness washed through him.
I didn’t want him to sleep though. I wanted him to fuck me again. I wanted him naked and wild in my bed. Tied to the post as I dripped wax down his chest and sucked him so hard his toes curled, and he slid down my throat in long rivulets.
“Come on, wake up, don’t sleep yet,” I cooed, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
“I miss her,” he whined quietly, his eyelids closing, and I scowled.
His now soft cock slid out of me and I slipped out from under him and stood up. He shifted to sit up and looked down at his flaccid length, horrified as realization set in as to what he’d just done. He pushed himself back into his jeans quickly, his drunken fingers fumbling with his zipper.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged me off him and stood up, a wave of disgust spreading through his features.
It was hard not to be offended by it since he was currently running down the inside of my thigh and my body was still so sensitive that every move made my nipples turn harder and harder until any moment now, I was going to go off like a damned rocket again.
“Jesus, Anna,” he said, running his hands through his hair as he stumbled to his feet. “What did we do?”
I stared at him, a look of hurt on my face.
“I’m sorry, that came out wrong. God, I’m such an asshole.”
“You’re drunk. You just need to get some sleep, Damen.” I guided him down the hallway to my room, and he swayed as he clung on to me. “I’m going to look after you.”
I sat him on the edge of my bed and undressed him slowly, and when I rolled him into my bed, he looked so perfect and serene.
“You’re so pretty,” he slurred.
I smiled and stripped out of my clothes before climbing into bed next to him. I snaked my arms around his chest, rolling him onto his back, and he stared up at me drunkenly, stupidly.
My hand reached between his legs, stroking along his soft length until he began to twitch back to life again.
“I need to sleep,” he mumbled, his hand reaching out to cup my breast.
“No, you need to lie there and let me fuck you better,” I said as I straddled him. “I’ll fuck her right out of you, Damen and make all the pain go away.”
I raised myself up, holding his length as I slid myself down on it with a sigh.
“Make it go away,” he exhaled.
I rose up, feeling him slide almost out of me, until only the tip remained inside, and then I slammed myself back down.
“Fuck, yeah,” he called out. “Fuck her out of me, Anna.”
He groaned loudly, his hands on my hips as I did it again and again. Rising and falling on his cock as I exercised Louise out of the man I loved. Damen held my gaze the whole time I fucked him, riding every last part of Louise from him.
Damen was mine, and now we were going to live happily ever after.
About Claire C. Riley
About Claire:
Claire C. Riley is a USA Today and International Bestselling author.
She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three daughters, and ridiculously naughty rescue beagle, Dogface. She loves clothes with pockets, avocados, and is obsessed with 80’s movies.
She is represented by Lane Heymont of The Tobias Literary Agency
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Prey
Raven Amor
Chapter One
X
I watch from the one-way mirror as he falls on the bed backwards. The sick smile that crawls over his face has my hand clenching. I keep my feet rooted to the spot; I can’t mess it up now. Not so close. It took years to get where I am, to become what I have. For the man to disappear and leave behind a deadly weapon. For weeks I have followed him, watched the vile things he has done. All in the name of the family. The family I’m going to put an end to, destroy from the inside out. Bring them to their knees. Today is the start of their end.
I step out of the shadows, lifting my chin to the call girl I paid enough to get out of town and start up someplace else. Everybody has a price. Just like I asked, Roberto is tied to the bed naked. A ball gag already in place, drool drips down his chin; his hard cock, angry and weeping.
His eyes follow the blonde out of the room as he starts yelling, but the red ball only lets muffled sounds escape.
I walk around the room, running my fingers over the different instruments; paddles, canes, whips. Used in the right way, they can make a body arch and fall so far into lust you are no longer a part of this world. Completely lost in a euphoria more potent than any drug. He is not here for pleasure, purely pain.
I let my fingers run across the different woods and thickness before turning to look over my shoulder. “You don’t recognise me. Do you?” My voice comes out low, dark.
He stops twisting, and his eyes rake over every inch of my skin taking me in. The frown between his brows gives his answer before he shakes his head back and forth. Spit dribbles
down his chin as he screams this is a mistake and the family will kill me.
Only it isn’t a mistake. He’s number five on my list; the first step in my revenge. I would never forget his face. What he did to me. Even if my mind lost all memory, the scars across my body would show their own story.
I grab the cane, walking across the room, swinging my arm, and the air breaks with a swishing sound that has his eyes locked on the long piece of bamboo in my hand.
He shouts behind the gag, threatening my life, and the harm he will cause.
His mind playing out my death. Only he doesn’t realise the Grim Reaper isn’t coming for me. Not tonight.
I lean down to whisper two words, “Remy Marchetti.”
His whole-body freezes, and his eyes widen, no longer seeing my death, but his own.
He fights against the bonds as blood runs down his wrists like crimson tears.
The harsh tones turn into pleas of mercy. Something I will never give him.
I trail the cane across his skin. “Surprised to see me. Alive?” I hiss, the same time as I whack the cane across his thigh, which splits the skin instantly. My lips tilt as his muffled screams fill the room like the finest symphony, and I admire the blood seeping from the wound.
He shakes his head, screams words that don’t even register over the pounding of my heart. The adrenaline that flies through my veins mixed with burning rage. My chest is heaving, and my hand aching by the time I get my breathing back under control and focus. Now, there's only a bloody mess of a man chained to the bed. Barely alive, his own mother wouldn’t recognise him, just a mask of broken and bloody skin.
I drop the cane walking back to the head of the bed. Grabbing his jaw, a poor excuse of a groan leaves his lips. Grabbing my knife, I slice the leather straps of the ball gag, catching the skin underneath. A macabre Glasgow smile. He doesn't even flinch at the slice of his skin, already held in too much pain. The human body isn’t built to withstand such pain, which makes it all the sweeter knowing the agony he must be feeling.