Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t want him to stop. I want this to continue until his balls are drained and I can’t walk without his support, so I take shallow breaths, watching him work his cock into me endlessly. What a fucking sight to behold. I’m so overstimulated, but I would never ask him to stop. I’m here for him. I’m his plaything.
Damen utters a curse, and heat floods to my brain as he cries out, filling me with jets of cum. I’ve never felt anything close to perfection before this, but I wish he could keep going a little bit longer and come inside me again. I want to carry his seed inside me when we go see his family again, and I wish they could smell him on me.
Discomfort flashes through Damen’s features as he pulls out, only to roll to his back, face red from the effort of stuffing me full of jizz. I curl up at his side in an instant, sated and happy.
I don’t have the energy for much, but I kiss his neck. Did this gentleman really abduct me? I could consider it more of a misunderstanding at this point.
“That was so good. Worth waiting for until after marriage,” I say and half-believe it myself, so deep in my delulu he might as well really be my husband.
Damen chuckles, and I’m surprised when his fingers slide into my hole, pushing me up until I’m on top of him, and he can capture my lips.
“My husband deserves the best,” he mumbles, toying with my sphincter as we both relax, letting our bodies cool.
We’re joking around, but it still makes me all fuzzy inside. Like I’m not alone, like I belong with someone. I might put up a tough facade because the world is cruel and vicious, but maybe Damen was right to call me sweet. Given half the chance, I’m ready to show my tender insides.
“I hope your morning wasn’t too bad? Did you hear I got a massage and an IV?” I say lazily as I leave kisses all over his face.
“Been there,” Damen says and rests his cheek against mine as if we’re a real couple. “I’m happy to see you improved. You shouldn’t drink so much tonight.”
Just like that, he’s deciding this for me, and while in the past I’d balk at any attempts to control me, he seems to do it for the right reasons. Just like with the spanking, I kinda like it.
“Fair. Did I really yell at your dad?”
Damen laughs and kisses my lips. “He hated it, and Mom hated it even more, because the only things she likes about him are the respect and money he comes with. So yeah… that was part of the discussion this morning. Well done.”
“Oh no… They all hate me?” It kinda didn’t matter when I was supposed to be Damen’s outrageous fake husband, to be discarded after the holidays, but now that I have some hopes about us lasting longer, I don’t know any more if going all out last night was really the best choice.
He blinks and strokes my head. “I wouldn’t go that far. Plus, hate never stopped anyone being a part of this family. My parents hate one another, my brother hates me, my sister hates us all, but here we are, spending another wonderful holiday together.”
It’s weird. Kinda awful. But also a relief, I guess?
“So what’s the plan today? I saw a helicopter.”
“That would be my sister and her family. They’re having lunch now, but we can join them at two for the annual maze run.”
“So I have you to myself for another hour,” I say gleefully and hug him, not even trying to keep up my goth outcast facade. “And don’t worry. If you’re lost in the maze, I’ll find you.” Like it’s not a maze he’s grown up with. But he doesn’t call me out and instead licks my lips.
“I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.”
“Damen?”
“Yes?”
I hesitate with my question, worried it might spoil the mood. “May I get my phone back?”
Damen never stops stroking my hair. “No. How about after Christmas?”
After the fuck we just had, I don’t have the energy to argue. Digital detox it is then.
Chapter 11
Killian
I’m walking on clouds when Damen leads me out of the room, fingers entwined with mine. Fuck of the century. Dick of the century. Man of the century. My eyes couldn’t contain more stars if the sky fell on us.
Maybe I’m delusional, but I want to believe all the sweet things he tells me and put my faith in him. If he says them in private, then they must be true to some extent. And maybe, just maybe, he will not cast me off once Christmas is over, along with the prank he’s pulled on his family.
I still have some of his seed inside me when we make our way down the grand staircase, where he tells me stories about the people depicted in huge portraits hung on the walls. Many of them are his ancestors, but some faces, which I recognize from history books, belong to people whom members of Damen’s family called friends.