Chapter 13

Samantha was lying on her back on the bed, reading a book she had borrowed from Damon. Speaking of Damon, he was beside her, and he was trying to get her attention.

Damon was facing her. He had made one of his hands his pillow, and one of his legs was resting over her thighs while his other hand was busy brushing a few strands of her hair away from her face. Sometimes, his hand caressed her shoulder, traveling towards her neck, and sometimes, it slipped inside her t-shirt and toyed with the strap of her bra.

Ever since she'd accepted the fact that she also felt that same desire for him, she had let him do what he wanted to her body.

She didn't say anything about it, but Damon seemed to already know. He became even more aggressive, especially when it came to having sex with her. And she would be a liar if she said that Damon did not satisfy her. Damon satisfied her more than she could've ever imagined.

"Damon, stop it," she complained when he started playing with her ear.

She squirmed every time his finger caressed the sensitive folds of her ear. And when it seemed that he would no longer be satisfied with just touching her, he brought his face closer, biting and licking her earlobe.

She gasped in surprise. She looked at him, her eyes widening. "Damon!" she said, calling his name, but she regretted it immediately because as she faced him, Damon suddenly caught her lips. He even bit her lower lip before pulling his face away from her.

Damon grinned. "Finally, I've got your attention."

She was dumbfounded as she stared at Damon. She was still not done processing what had happened when he kissed her again. This time, it was longer, deeper, and she couldn't stop herself from responding to his kiss.

She was so lost in their kisses that she did not realize that Damon had taken the book she was reading and thrown it away somewhere. They rolled over on the bed until he was on top of her, his lips still on hers.

One hand began to caress her thighs as his other hand went inside her shirt. He lifted her bra, and his palm covered her entire breast. He massaged her like an expert baker, kneading bread.

Damon released her lips and dropped his kisses to her neck.

Samantha moaned as Damon started toying with her nipple between two fingers. She closed her eyes and looked up slightly. She tugged at Damon's hair as her back arched.

Damon pinched her nipple and bit her shoulder before withdrawing his hand from inside her shirt. He buried his face in her neck. One of Samantha's hands remained in Damon's hair, the other lying above her head.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" It was not a command. Damon sounded like he was asking a favor, his voice calm and soft, and somehow, she couldn't say no to him.

She did not answer. Instead, she stroked his hair as her other hand caressed his back. Damon buried his face deeper in her neck. He was like a child seeking warmth.

It was the first time that they'd been like this.

Most of the time, if they were not arguing, they were fucking each other's brains out. And she knew she shouldn't be doing this. She should push him away, but she couldn't do it, especially when he was acting like this.

"This is the first time we've done this," Damon said, his face still buried in her neck.

So we were thinking the same thing, huh? she thought.

"I wish you'd stay this kind to me," he said.

"This won't last, so you better savor it," she answered as she gently caressed his hair and back.

"Can you extend my subscription?" Damon asked, making her chuckle a little.

"Nope. This won't happen again. God, you're so heavy," she replied as if complaining.

It was Damon's turn to chuckle. He raised his head. Then he put his hands on either side of her head and stared at her intently.

She didn't know how it got there, but she could see sadness in his eyes.

Without thinking, she raised one hand and stroked his cheek. Damon closed his eyes and moved his head a little, wanting to feel more of the heat coming from her palm.

She looked into his face. He was handsome. His body was magnificent. Not to mention, he was good at sex. But his personality? Well, never mind.

He was almost perfect. And that made her wonder why, of all the women in the world, she was the one he was paying attention to. She was sure that he could get any woman he wanted, women who were much better than her.

Samantha started picturing Damon with another woman. A woman who was being pleasured by him. A woman who moaned wildly as Damon ate and fucked her. A woman who was embracing him and clinging to him and calling out his name.

Her fists clenched at the thought.

For some unknown reason, she didn't like the images running through her head. That imagination of hers was driving her mad.

Samantha, I love you.

Samantha's eyes widened as she seemed to hear Alfred's voice.

And as if it had suddenly caught fire, she quickly removed her palm from Damon's cheek, causing Damon to open his eyes.

Damon's forehead furrowed when he saw Samantha's expression.

"Samantha, are you okay—" But Damon was not able to finish his question because Samantha had pushed him away, causing him to flop down next to her on the bed.

Samantha quickly got out of bed. Damon called after her, but she ignored him. She left the room and ran out of the house. She kept on running, no destination in mind. She just wanted to get away. Away from Damon.

She only stopped running when she was out of breath. Her knees weakened, and she knelt on the white sand. She leaned over and tried to catch her breath.

She could feel and hear the fast and strong beating of her heart.

She placed her hand over her chest, where her heart was located.

I love you, Samantha.

It was that voice again. Alfred's voice. And Alfred's voice was full of love. Love that he reserved just for her. Love that she was no longer certain she deserved.

Her guilt was slowly eating away at her. Her conscience would consume her entire system eventually.

She clenched the fist that was pressed against her chest when she felt the pain there. She was hurting. She was hurting because she was cheating on Alfred. She was hurting because she knew that Alfred didn't deserve this.

As her mind had kept trying to tell her, this was not right. Everything she'd done with Damon was not right, and it would never be right.

She was disappointed with herself and her body. She was disappointed with herself because she was so weak. She couldn't even defend what she'd done. She wanted to hurt herself.

I love you, Samantha.

She kept on hearing those words, his voice. She was even starting to see Alfred staring at her lovingly, making her feel even more guilty.

Her tears kept flowing. She wanted to go back home. She wanted to be with her parents, with Alfred. She wanted to be sane again.

She kept crying, and not once did she wipe away her tears. She just let them fall on the sand, hoping that the pain she was feeling in her heart would disappear like her teardrops on the hot beach.

***

Damon was starting to panic. He had been looking for Samantha for almost a day, but he still couldn't find her. He didn't know what had happened to her.

Did he say something wrong? Something she didn't like or resented?

He was confused, but at the same time, he was also worried.

Taking long steps, he strode to the beach, calling out for Samantha. But not once did he hear her answer. Gradually, he was consumed by nervousness and fear.

He turned around and looked at the sea.

What if Samantha tried to do something dangerous? What if something bad happened to her?

He quickly shook his head.

No. Samantha wouldn't do anything like that. No matter how angry she was at him, he knew she wasn't reckless.

He continued to search for her. He didn't stop calling her name. He no longer knew how far he was from the beach house. But that was his last concern.

"Samantha!" he called her name again, but he still got no answer.

He was looking ahead, and his forehead furrowed when he saw something in the distance. He quickened his pace. He was almost running. And as he got close, he finally confirmed it was Samantha.

Samantha was sitting on the sand, her back to him.

He could only see her back, but he instantly knew that it was her.

He approached her quickly and knelt in front of her.

Samantha was looking down and sobbing. Even her shoulders were shaking.

He suddenly felt nervous.

What the hell happened to her? he thought.

He gently lifted Samantha's face, imprisoning it with his palms. He felt like his heart was being torn apart when he saw her face, soaked with tears.

He stared at her worriedly. "Samantha, what happened, sweetheart?" he asked gently, but Samantha's sobbing only got louder, which only made him more worried.

"Shush, shush, Samantha. Tell me what happened. Did you stumble and fall? Are you hurt? Did someone or something hurt you? Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me," he asked worriedly, but he got no answer from her.

He gently wiped her tears away, and Samantha just stared at him. She was still sobbing, her tears constantly flowing.

He wanted to curse. She was crying so much, and he didn't know why. He didn't even know why she'd suddenly run away. And it was frustrating the hell out of him.

He continued to wipe away her tears, still comforting her. When she didn't stop crying, he hugged her very tightly. He hugged her as if telling her that everything was going to be fine.

He gently stroked Samantha's back. "Shush, Samantha. Hush now." That was what he kept whispering as he hugged her tightly.

They remained in that position. He kept hugging her and caressing her back.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Samantha finally settled down. He was about to pull away from her to ask her what had happened when she spoke.

"Damon."

"Yes, sweetheart?" he gently answered.

A few more seconds passed before Samantha spoke again.

"I want to go home. Take me home, Damon. Please, take me home," she said, begging, and started sobbing again.