Chapter 65 – Hollow Release (Damian’s POV)
I stood under the scalding spray of the shower long after the blood had swirled off my skin. My forehead rested against the cool tile, water pounding down my neck. I hadn’t slept since Ivy shut me out. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face twisted in hurt. I really didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to give a damn. With Bianca at my doorstep, the best way to tackle this was to be as dead to emotions as possible.
Yet, alone in the dead of night, despair crept in, suffocating. I should have been tending my wounds or trying to sleep, but I couldn’t face the nightmares waiting for me. Instead, I hid here under the water, haunted by memory.
By her.
I pressed a fist to the slick wall. Worse than seeing Ivy run from me was knowing I’d put that devastated look on her face. The woman who’d moaned my name in ecstasy just a day ago now couldn’t stand the sight of me.
My gut clenched. I could almost hear her voice, breathy and urgent in my ear, feel her nails scoring down my back. My cock twitched at the vivid recollection, stirring against my thigh despite the misery weighing on me. Of course the damned thing had a mind of its own. Even with everything shattered between us, my body hungered for her like an addict.
I let the thought come. I needed something—anything—to drown out the ache for a few minutes. The only real relief I’d known lately came from Ivy’s touch.
Exhaling unsteadily, I braced myself upright. Hot water sluiced down my chest as I wrapped a wet hand around my length. I was already getting hard, halfway there just from replaying the ghosts of her touch in my head.
“Fuck,” I whispered, guilt and desire warring inside me. I shouldn’t be doing this: what right did I have to think of her this way after what I’d done? But the need won out. It always did.
I stroked slowly at first, leaning heavily against the wall. My mind drifted to the last time we’d been together, that blissful morning in my bed before our world fell apart. Ivy had woken up straddling my hips, her warm cunt already slick and gloving my morning erection. All sleepy-eyed and sinful, she’d sank down on my length inch by agonizing inch, her head falling back as she adjusted to my size.
A low groan rumbled in my throat at the memory. My hand tightened, pumping more firmly along my stiffening cock. In my mind it wasn’t my calloused fingers providing friction—it was Ivy’s delicate hand, or better yet her tight heat squeezing around me.
I remembered how she’d dragged her nails over my chest that morning, biting her lip as she took me to the hilt. Desire licked through my veins, hot and sharp. “Shit... Ivy,” I hissed, my hips twitching into my slick fist.
She started riding me slow and deep, rolling her body in that hypnotic rhythm. I could hear her gasping my name: Damian... yes... just like that...
My free hand drifted up to my chest. A shudder ran through me at the thought of her mouth on my body.
“Fuck, baby...” I breathed, lost in the fantasy. In my mind, Ivy was right here—her pert breasts bouncing with each roll of her hips, those pretty pink nipples begging for my tongue. I could almost feel her nails rake my shoulders, her heels digging into my ass, urging me on. I could hear the hitch in her breath right before she’d cry out my name.
My cock jerked in my grip, swollen and aching for release. I squeezed my eyes tighter and let the reel of memory play on. Now I was flipping her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head as I drove in deep. Her ankles locked around my hips, her eyes full of lust as she begged for it harder. God, in those moments she looked at me like I was her whole world.
A strangled moan escaped me. My fist flew faster, slick slaps echoing as pressure coiled at the base of my spine. I was close, and I imagined Ivy’s legs shaking around me, her pussy fluttering at the edge of release.
I groaned loud, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. Ivy had shattered with a broken cry, her inner walls clamping down on my cock in rhythmic pulses. That vision—her beautiful face contorted in bliss—pushed me over the edge.
“Ahh—fuck!” My head slammed back against the wall as I erupted in my own hand. Thick ropes of cum spurted from me, splattering the tile before washing down the drain. My cock throbbed as I spilled everything, pleasure jolting through me in hot waves.
I milked every drop as the orgasm crashed through me. For a few seconds, I was weightless. There was no anger, no sorrow but just raw ecstasy sparking up my spine.
But as quickly as it came, the pleasure ebbed, leaving emptiness behind. My hand slowed and fell away. I panted under the cooling spray, eyelids heavy. The water had gone lukewarm, and reality crept back in, cold and unforgiving.
What the hell was I doing? Disgust twisted in my gut. I was getting off to Ivy’s memory while everything between us lay in ruins. I was no better than a fucking animal.
My cum was already swirling down the drain along with any brief relief I'd felt. I scrubbed my hands over my face, water plastering my hair to my skull.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unsure if I was apologizing to her or myself.
Eventually I turned the faucet off. The shower sputtered out, leaving only my ragged breathing in the quiet.
I towelled off and made my way to my bedroom. The sheets still held Ivy’s jasmine-and-amber scent and it gutted me anew. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the towel around my waist as if it could hold me together.
Jaw clenched in the darkness, I knew I had to pull myself the fuck together. Ivy was still here for now, though avoiding me at every turn.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. I had no answers tonight but only regrets. With a bitter curse, I tossed the towel aside and climbed into the cold, empty bed.
Sleep didn’t come easy. When it finally did, she haunted my dreams, the phantom echo of what I’d lost.