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My arms are still constrained and in the way between us, but his cock is in my mouth before I can argue. I barely have time to relax my jaw before he hits the back of my throat. He holds me down by my hair as he likes to, fucking my mouth until I’m certain my jaw will unhinge and I’ll never breathe sweet air again. I only give over because I trust him in this, because he’s proven he won’t let anything happen to me. It’s when I surrender that he comes. He thrives on this, on hurting and dominating me. He thrives on pulling me into his lap and kissing me dizzy, until the taste of our arousals is intermingled.
A loud knock on the door shocks me to my senses.
“Sir? Ma’am?” a female voice calls. “You can’t be in there together. I have to ask you to step out.”
Stern and judgmental, that voice makes me feel like a teenager caught in a car parked on the banks of the river. That’s where the kids from my class used to make out. I never made it there, to those banks and normalcy. I made it to Willowbrook and to Damian Hart.
He smooths down my hair. “Ready?”
“Yes.” I push away the untimely memories and hold out my arms for him to free me.
“Sir. Step out. Now.”
“In a moment,” he says. “You don’t want me to come out naked, do you?”
“Oh, my God.” Her groan is disgruntled. “I’m calling the police.” Her footsteps hurry away.
“Come here, angel.”
Damian helps me into my clothes before he takes care of himself. We’re more or less respectable when we exit. My cheeks burn as we pass the shop assistant who waits accusingly at the entrance of the changing area.
“There are hotel rooms for that,” she says, looking us up and down. Her evaluation pauses on my scars.
Damian shrugs. “The bedroom never seems to be enough.” He shoots an appreciative look in my direction. “Not for my wife. Nope, ma’am. Can’t ever get enough of her.”
The woman’s gaze slips to my finger. When she spots the diamond, she slightly relaxes her stance, as if the fact that we’re married makes what we did less wrong. She can have us arrested for public indecency.
Taking my hand, Damian pays for my purchases and leads me to his car under the burning stares of the staff. He opens my door and helps me inside, not at all acting self-conscious. Does he have a guilty bone in his body? From the way he laughs softly, he enjoys the embarrassing situation.
When we pull off, I decide to exploit his good mood. “I’d like to get a driver’s license.”
He glances at me. “Of course.”
“Really?” Harold denied me a license because he knew how dependent that made me on him in a city with no to very little public transportation. I don’t know why I expected Damian to behave the same.
He takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Anything you want. I’ve already told you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
His smile is warm, approving almost. Then he lets me get lost in my thoughts until we park in front of a popular gym franchise. It’s a double-story building that stretches over the whole block.
“Here?” I expected something small and obscure.
“This is where I train. It’s the closest from home.”
A manager, who greets Damian by name, meets us inside. Phillip looks too young to be a gym manager. He has big muscles and tattoos on his arms and chest. His banter is friendly as he shows us the health bar, sauna, tanning beds, and collective course halls where they offer yoga and stretching.
At the end of the tour, he turns to me expectantly. “What do you think?”
“It’s all very impressive, but it’s not what I need.”
His face drops while Damian smothers a chuckle.
“What is it you need?”
“Fitness and strength training.”
Scratching his head, he takes us to the upstairs level where there’s a circuit and free weights section.
“If you’re new to this, you’ll need a program.”
“Schedule it,” Damian says.
We sit down on the leather couch overlooking the weight training section to fill out the necessary paperwork while enjoying complimentary cappuccinos. A signature from Damian later, and I’m enrolled. I can’t remember feeling this excited about anything since food.
Wrapping my arms around Damian in a stupidly impulsive reaction, I whisper, “Thank you,” in his neck.
He squeezes me tightly. “Whatever you need.”
To any outsider, we must appear as a normal, happy couple. At times like these, what Damian and I are, what defines our dynamic, is so muddled, not even I can make sense of it.
During my next appointment with Reyno, Damian waits in the hallway, and I venture inside on my own. Normally, I would never have been this brave, but I have my own agenda in overcoming my fear of doctors and closed doors.
