Chapter 38 DAMIEN’S WEB.
\~~~SERENA.
I woke up with my body aching in places I didn't know could hurt. My thighs burned from being spread wide all night, and between my legs, there was a deep, throbbing soreness, like Damien's thick cock had stretched me too far and left me raw.
My pussy felt swollen, still sticky from last night's mess of cum and juices. And my throat, God, it was on fire. I had screamed so much, begged him to fuck me harder, called him Daddy while he pounded into me. Now, every swallow felt like swallowing glass.
Yesterday, I married Damien Hale, my ex's uncle.
Ryan, that cheating bastard, had humiliated me, so this was my revenge. Tie myself to his family in the worst way possible. It was supposed to be simple, a marriage of convenience to twist the knife in Ryan's heart. But last night, I'd lost it. Stripped naked in front of Damien, and threw myself at him like some desperate slut. I'd blackmailed him emotionally, acting like a starved virgin haunting his bed, and provoked him until he gave in and fucked me senseless.
Did I regret it? Not the sex, no. That part had been mind-blowing.
But the way it happened? Yeah, I wished he'd been the one to grab me first, pin me down without me begging like a fool.
Shit.
I ran my hand through my tangled hair, wincing at the pull. Just then, the door rattled open. Panic hit me and I dove back down, yanking the duvet over my head, and squeezing my eyes shut.
If I pretend to be still asleep, maybe he'd leave me alone. Silence stretched, then the duvet tugged hard and I gripped it tighter, pulling back.
It stopped for a second before I heard.
“It will be less awkward if you just sit up now, moonlight. I know you're awake.”
I cursed under my breath. Damien's voice was low, amused, and sent a shiver down my spine. Reluctantly, I sat up, forcing a yawn that probably looked fake as hell. I lifted my head slowly, my cheeks burning as I met his eyes. What was he thinking? Seeing me like this, hair wild, naked under the sheets, and marked from his rough hands?
“Good morning, moonlight.”
I cleared my throat and nodded my head. My gaze dropped to the tray on the nightstand and the steaming mug in it.
“I made you tea. Figured you'd be up already, and I bet your throat hurts too, right?”
Oh, damn right it did.
“You should drink this and freshen up. I made breakfast, so come downstairs when you're done, okay?”
I nodded my head and just then Damien reached out, and patted my hair gently, his fingers lingering just a second too long.
Warmth spread from his touch. Then he turned away. That was when I let my eyes trace his back. He was in gray joggers slung low on his hips, shirtless, and fuck, his body was a masterpiece. Broad shoulders tapered to a V-shaped torso, every muscle etched like stone, the thick lats flaring out, and traps bulging slightly as he moved.
His back rippled with power, skin smooth and tanned, dotted with faint scratches from my nails digging in last night. I remembered clawing him while he thrust deep, and now, staring, my mouth watered. Saliva pooled under my tongue, imagining licking down that spine, tasting the salt of his skin again.
My sore pussy clenched at the thought, a fresh ache blooming.
He left the room, the door clicking shut and I exhaled loudly and dramatically, like I'd been holding my breath forever. Grabbing the tea, I gulped it down despite the heat scalding my raw throat like I was punishing myself, maybe, for last night. It burned going down, but I didn't stop until the mug was empty.
“I should freshen up and eat. Other things can wait,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed. My muscles protested, my thighs quivering as I stood.
____
Downstairs, the dining area smelled like heaven. There was bacon sizzling, fresh bread, and eggs. The table was set like a feast of fluffy scrambled eggs piled high, crispy bacon strips glistening with fat, golden pancakes stacked with butter melting on top, sliced fruits in a bowl, strawberries red and juicy, and mango chunks dripping with sweetness. Toast triangles with jam, and a pitcher of orange juice sparkling in the light.
Extravagant, way more than usual.
“You prepared all of this?!' I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.
It wasn't my first time eating his cooking as he'd made simple stuff before, but this? It looked like a damn restaurant spread.
“Cooking is fun. Come here.”
He pulled out a chair for me, his arm brushing mine
I settle down, trying not to think too much of it.. Damien settled across, watching as I picked up the spoon for the eggs.
The first bite melted on my tongue as it was creamy, and seasoned just right. I scooped more, adding bacon that crunched loudly, salty, and perfect. Pancakes next, syrup sweet and sticky, fork piercing soft fluff.
“How is it?” he asked midway, his voice rumbling.
“It is so delicious,' I said, nodding, mouth full. I kept eating, hunger hitting hard after last night.
But then I noticed him staring at me. His eyes were locked on my face, then dropping to my lips, and my exposed skin. Heat crept up my neck and I dropped the spoon, clinking on the plate.
“What?”
“Uhm… Damien,” I picked at my fingers.
“Don't say anything, just eat.”
“N…no, I should.”
“Serena.” His tone was firm, like he could see right through my head.
“Last night…” I started and he breathed out.
“It was great,” blurted.
“But, we can't make it a habit. No, it shouldn't have happened, so… please, let it not happen again. Okay?”
Even saying it, my heart twisted.
I wanted it again.
I want his cock slamming into me, his hands gripping my hips, and that full, extended feeling as he fills me with his hot cum. My body craved it, and my nipples hardened under the crop top just thinking about it. But my mind screamed no.
This went against everything. My rules, and my morals of keeping revenge clean, not letting lust blur the lines. And most of all, my plan to destroy Ryan without getting tangled in Damien's web.
He is Ryan's uncle, family to that traitor. Sleeping with him wasn't just sex, it was betrayal of my own anger, turning revenge into something messy, and emotional. I couldn't let one night of pounding pleasure ruin the point of marrying him.
Could I?