Chapter 80 BENEATH ME.
\~~~DAMIEN.
The estate gates clanged shut behind us, a heavy sound that sealed out the world. Ethan pulled the SUV into the garage, the engine cutting off with a low rumble.
Serena was a trembling mess in my arms, her body slick with sweat, and her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. The drug had her in its claws now, twisting her need into something feral. I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, even through my shirt. My cock throbbed from her earlier touches in the car, but I shoved that down deep.
"We're home, Moonlight," I murmured, brushing damp hair from her forehead. She whimpered, her fingers clutching at my collar, pulling me closer as if I were the only thing keeping her from shattering. Ethan opened the back door, his face a mask of professional calm, but I caught the flicker of concern in his eyes.
I slid out first, scooping Serena up in one fluid motion. She was light, too light in her fevered state, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. Her gown rode up, exposing the smooth skin of her thighs, and she ground against me with a soft moan that shot straight to my groin.
“Damien... please,” she breathed, her lips grazing my neck. I ignored the pull, focusing on the path ahead. The garage lights buzzed overhead as I carried her through the side door into the house, Ethan's footsteps echoing behind us until he peeled off toward the security room.
The hallway stretched dark and quiet, the only sound was her ragged breathing and the faint click of my shoes on the marble floor.
I tightened my hold on her, her head lolling against my shoulder.
She nuzzled into me, hot and needy, her hands roaming over my back.
“It burns... everywhere,” she slurred, her voice breaking.
Rage boiled in my chest again. Whoever spiked her drink would beg before I was done.
We reached the bedroom door, and I kicked it open with my foot. The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp, the king-sized bed untouched, sheets crisp and white. I stepped inside, easing the door shut behind me.
Serena stirred in my arms, her body suddenly alive with urgency. She lifted her head, her eyes glassy and wild, and started fumbling with her earrings. Her fingers shook as she yanked them off, tossing them to the floor with a clatter. Next came the necklace, the delicate chain snapping under her impatient tug. She was like a woman on fire, desperate to shed every layer that trapped the heat.
“Damien... help,” she gasped, twisting in my grip. Her hands clawed at the back of her gown, searching for the zipper. But the corset lacing beneath was knotted tight, an intricate weave that held the fabric snug against her curves.
She yanked harder, her nails scraping fabric, but it wouldn't give.
Frustration built in her whimpers, turning to a low growl. I set her down gently on the edge of the bed, her legs splaying as she sat, but she didn't stay put. She stood again, back to me, shoulders heaving.
I moved closer, my hands steady despite the storm inside me.
“Easy,” I said, voice low and calm. My fingers found the laces at her back, working them loose one by one. The corset loosened under my touch, the gown parting like silk giving way.
She shivered as cool air hit her skin, arching into the release. Piece by piece, the ropes untied, and the dress slipped forward. She shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet in a whisper of fabric.
There she stood, stripped bare before me with her full breasts, her nipples already peaked and red from the friction of the fabric, and her waist curving into hips that begged to be gripped.
Her pussy was slick, visible even from behind, thighs pressed together as if to trap the ache. Sweat traced paths down her spine, over the swell of her ass. She turned slowly, facing me, her eyes locked on mine with raw hunger.
Her skin flushed deep, every inch of her screaming for touch.
I watched her, rooted in place, restraint coiling tight in my gut.
God, I wanted to devour her. Pin her down, spread her legs, and bury my cock deep inside that wet heat until she screamed my name.
I wanted to take her mouth, her tits, and to mark every part of her as mine. The urge clawed at me, my pants straining against the hardness she'd ignited.
But no. Not when drugs clouded her mind, and turned consent into a haze.
This wasn't her, not fully. I wouldn't be the animal who took advantage.
She stepped closer, hands reaching for my belt, but I caught her wrists, holding them firm. “Not now, Serena,” My voice came out rougher than I intended, laced with the effort of holding back.
Her eyes narrowed, temper flaring. “Why? I need it. I need you.” She pulled against my grip, but I didn't let go.
Gently, I scooped her up again, her naked body warm and soft against my chest. She kicked lightly, protesting, but I carried her toward the en-suite bathroom. The door swung open under my elbow, revealing the marble space, the oversized tub gleaming white. I set her on the edge, turning on the faucet. Cold water rushed out, filling the air with a sharp chill.
“You need to cool down,” I said, testing the stream with my hand.
“A bath will help and then bring the fever down.”
She slapped my arm away violently, the sting sharp on my skin.
Her eyes blazed, wild and accusatory. “You're just a small boy afraid of pussy!” she spat, voice slurring but fierce.
She lunged at me, fingers curling into my shirt, yanking hard. Buttons popped, fabric tearing with a rip that echoed off the tiles. My chest bared, cool air hitting the sudden exposure, but I grabbed her shoulders, holding her at arm's length.
“Serena, stop.’' I kept my tone even, rational, though my pulse was hammered. She was temperamental now, the drug amplifying every emotion into a storm. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she sobbed, body shaking.
“Please, Damien... ease me. It hurts so much,” Her begs twisted the knife, her hands clawing at my arms, nails digging in.
I couldn't.
With a firm grip, I lifted her and dropped her into the tub. She gasped as the cold water hit her skin, splashing up around her. I turned the faucet higher, the tub filling quickly, icy waves lapping at her thighs, her waist.
She shivered hard, teeth chattering, but the heat in her eyes didn't fade. Her hand moved between her legs, and her fingers found her clit. She rubbed vigorously in circles fast and desperate, water sloshing with the motion. Her other hand pinched a nipple, twisting as she arched her back.
“I don't know what is wrong with me,” she moaned, voice breathy and broken.
“But, I need you... your dick... fuck me…” Two fingers plunged into her pussy now, thrusting in and out, the wet sounds mixing with her gasps. Her body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the building pressure she chased alone.
I stood there, fists clenched at my sides.
“You are not in your right mind, Serena. You need a cold shower and sleep. You will be fine after.”
She glared up at me, her fingers still working, and hips bucking against her hand.
“Stop acting like you don't want this too. You do! It doesn't usually cost you nothing to bend me over and fuck me. What is stopping you now?”
“You were always in your right…”
“I am in my damn right mind, fuck!” she shouted, her free hand splashing water in frustration. Her moans grew louder, echoing in the bathroom, her pussy clenching around her fingers as she drove them deeper.
I stood still with my arms akimbo, watching her. The sight was torture. Her red nipples were hard and begging, her body was shaking with shivers and need. Water beaded on her skin, dripping from her breasts, her thighs spread wide in the tub.
My cock ached, straining painfully, every instinct screaming to join her, to replace her fingers with my tongue, my shaft. But I held back, jaw locked, breathing steady through the fire in my veins.
“Please, Damien, please... I need you…’' she whimpered, her pace faltering, eyes pleading as tears mixed with the water on her face.
I watched her long and hard enough, the internal war raging.
Minutes stretched, her moans filling the space, her body writhing. Finally, something snapped, not all the way, but enough. I moved closer, leaning down to lift her out of the tub. Water cascaded off her, soaking my pants as I cradled her against me. She clung, shivering and slick, her lips brushing my chest.
Out of the bathroom we went back into the bedroom. The air felt warmer here, and charged. I carried her to the bed, her weight a temptation in my arms. As I lowered her slowly onto the sheets, her eyes locked on mine, still hungry, and still begging.
“Fuck it,” I groaned, the words ripping from my throat. My restraint fractured, and I crashed my lips down on hers, hard and demanding, as she sank into the mattress beneath me.