AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shouldn’t want anyone to touch me. The truth is that Damien has awakened a darkness in me. I want to say that he has polluted me with his own darkness, tainted me with his desires and his mind games, but when I ran up those stairs and made myself come just thinking about him touching me, that is all me. That is all my own darkness. Has this always existed inside me? Does Damien unlock a secret part of me…and will he abandon me before more comes to pass? I want to act on all the filthy desires I don’t quite know how to name.
Sure, a few glances, a grasp, a promise that I couldn’t understand from Damien were all dark inspiration. But there is absolutely something deep within me, and I now plumb those depths because I met Damien. But I know that darkness is within me and isn’t new. The parts inside me that know better, that could resist, are drowned out in waves of the tantalizing pleasure of Damien’s hands on me; my resistance is drowned out in imagining Damien’s touch.
I’m contemplating my very existence over here, as if I don’t remember that Damien has summoned me and he has shown me that he can keep me out of my head. The pleasure he can bring me, and the respite from the tangled web inside my mind? I’m actually grateful for it.
“Undress. I want to see your body, Sarah,” Damien says through gritted teeth. I don’t think he is angry with me, but I know a rage has bubbled close to the surface for him. I can hear it in his voice; I can see it in the way he moves. His being seems shaken with a hostility that isn’t aimed at me. It couldn’t be because of me, right? I’ve done everything I can to be obedient.
I tremble, my fingers barely moving.
Damien’s hand reaches out and captures my hand that has just gripped a button on my blouse. His eyes dare mine to resist, but I’m frozen. Dropping my hand, his hand reaches for my buttons now. Grasping between the opening between one button and another’s gap, he tears down my blouse. My breasts bounce out, my bra getting torn in the process. His strength consumes me, the fear within me transformed into longing. If he is taking from me what I want to give him, the whole responsibility and blame for this could be on him. Not on me. I want to surrender, but I won’t. The part of me that is giving way to him right now, I tell myself that’s the other part of me that I’m separating into for my safety. Should Damien ravage me, I can color outside of the lines of reason and morality. I can simply give in to desire. Match his passion with my own.
His mouth closes over one of my breasts, and his hand over the other. Neither touch is gentle or kind. No, Damien is devouring and fondling my flesh with the ferocity of a man having his first drink after being deserted for far too long. Knowing my body is quenching the dark desires within him thrills the deepest parts of me. Tremors of lust and need shoot through my veins. The moans flowing through my lips are so raw, so full of unbridled lust, that if I didn’t feel my lips shaking to release them, then I never would have thought that the urgent, desperate sounds were coming from me.
“Damien,” I groan his name. He doesn’t respond and I don’t say anything else. His singular focus is on my breasts, and his intense touch pulls back its intensity every second, so that he’s no longer roughly touching me but softly. Maddeningly. I want to scream out how much I need more. I don’t know what I need, but less of him is definitely not it. I am panting, moaning, making a chorus of sounds and he is barely touching me. His tongue laps over a nipple, and then rolls down, flicking my sensitive skin. Pulling back, he blows warm air on the wet skin and the cool air around us wars for sensation. His fingers are playing with my other nipple, just barely stroking circles, lines, touches that are making me so eager for what he offered before that I’m building a frustration with my lust that makes me feel like I might burst. Damien drops his hands and looks me in the eyes. He’s daring me to beg. My body is desperate for me to vocalize pathetic attempts to get him to do more of something I can’t quite verbalize.
Both of his hands press firmly into my stomach, then trail up to capture my breasts. He squeezes them, and then releases my abused breasts. They ache from how roughly he’s touched me. I’m whirling with the thrill of the pleasure his touch brought, and the pain. I’m so confused, and I’m so needy.
