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A stretched silence ensued. His eyes held hers for a long moment, and it…felt strange. Damien’s stillness. His direct gaze.
Court had trouble making eye contact. He had trouble staying still, and frequently shied away from proximity, even with Sydney. In all truth, Court would have enormous trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Sydney wanted to be tied. The possibility of fulfilling her fantasies with a man like Court were…nil.
Still. She’d rather have Court than her fantasies.
She was about to pass when Damien rose to his feet, then he bent over and slid his fingers into the mass of her hair. Her sex clenched. She was on the floor, and the zipper of his pants stood right before her. Her throat closed as she gazed at the bulge there, then up, at the piercing on his nipples. Suddenly she vibrated on the inside as though currents had been stirred by a hurricane. “So you want to be bound, Sydney,” he repeated, thickly.
For a second, she felt fear. Maybe she was wrong. Damien…no matter how fiercely she’d hated him these past ten years, she had loved him too much. She wanted to be bound, but did not think she could be naked in front of him. “I’d like to know how it feels,” she quietly admitted, “but it won’t work if I’m not naked, and I don’t want to get naked in front of you.”
“Why?” he whispered. “Do you fear you’ll beg me to break my promise and have sex with you?”
“No! I don’t feel like that for you anymore,” she assured, scowling at the seriousness of his tone. “I don’t want to get you aroused,” she lied.
He pulled her up by the arms. “I’m unarousable. I like my women with curves. Come on let’s get that off and let’s get you bound.”
Her forehead furrowed, and her heart gripped once again at his rejection. Of course. He hadn’t wanted her ten years ago. Why would he want her now?
“You’re right.” She laughed. “You’ve had a harem. Right? Is that true?”
“I like to be pleasured by several women at a time, yes.”
She bit her lower lip thoughtfully and before she thought better of it, she unzipped her skirt and then shoved it down her hips, kicking it aside.
Damien Knight was the city’s scoundrel. He’d been in jail for DUI, he’d been disowned, judged, criticized, and the badder they made him to be, the
more women surrounded him. Models and actresses could resist him even less than they could a rock-star. He was bad, he was sex, and he was incredibly, disgustingly rich. He was a connoisseur of women and for sure Sydney and her small body, small breasts, small hips, everything almost childlike, wouldn’t do shit for a man like him.
She grabbed the bottom of her sweater in her fist, hesitating the slightest second, then she forced herself to pull it over her head, pretending he really was unarousable. “I’ll just pretend you’re gay, all right?” she told him.
“I’ll just pretend you didn’t say that.”
She smiled and reached behind to unhook her bra, suddenly getting excited. She’d never had a sexual experience before. Thanks to…well, to Damien. His rejection ten years ago had hurt her as deep as it could go. Hey, he owed her this. If Court never became the sort of man to fool around in the bedroom in those ways, at least her curiosity would be appeased.
And maybe, she’d learn a little more about herself. Her body. A man’s body.
She yanked off her bra, feeling a little quiver inside, and turned to find Damien standing in the middle of her apartment, his face shuttered, his eyes taking in her naked body, covered by nothing except a small pair of lacy white panties.
“I have a mind of feeding you before I tie you,” he said with a scowl.
She groaned. “I know I’m bony, I do eat, I just have a fast metabolism.”
He stalked to the kitchen. “You eat. What do you eat? Cake? That’s all that’s here. And berries.”
“Antioxidants. Chocolate has some, too.”
He shook his head, then pulled out a plate, searched her drawers for utensils, and came back out. “Come on. Sit.”
Her little quiver was becoming a knot, because “dinner” had been the last thing on her mind tonight. “I’d rather we get back to my fantasy.”
“Pretend I’m Court feeding you, let’s add it up to your sexual experience. Food is a pleasure.”
She groaned in protest, but marched into her bedroom, grabbed a t-shirt, and came back out, heading for the small round dining table to plop down next to him.
He’d just grabbed a forkful of cake and shoved it into his mouth, and as he watched her take a seat, he said, “Mm. It’s actually good.”
Sydney narrowed her eyes, wondering why her heart vaulted when he said, mmm. He was just chowing down a piece of cake down like a man did, nothing special or even remotely sexy about that, but her pulse jacked higher when she watched him lick up a crumb from the corner of his lips.
He took another bite, like he couldn’t help himself, and then made a sex-sounding, rumbling sound of pleasure that just killed her.
