Chapter 2. Horny Damn Still

The alleyway was dark. Not that dark, though, just enough that Damien’s features seemed extra grim.

His red hair especially had a dark glow to it.

Announcing the splash of blood running along his knitted brows and down his square jaws. The splatter of blood on his chest. And the blood-stained, white, gooey stuff that drips off his fists.

No, that’s definitely brain matter.

He said something, but I couldn’t make it out.

He stepped closer to me, standing two heads above me with a broad chest and bulging biceps.

“What did you see, Stella?” Damien’s voice vibrated through me, commanding ripples of unreasonable tingling layered with a thumping dread of death.

Damien grabbed my hair in one hand. Pressing me against the rigid wall of his abs and chest.

My scalp hurts, his fingers around my waist are too strong, and the dark murderous intent in his eyes has my heart thundering.

Yet, I love it.

“What did you see?”

>>< RING...! ><<

I jump out of bed with a terrified yelp and a thundering heartbeat. The first thing I expected to see was Damien looking down on me. Not the screen door of my bathroom.

>>< RING...! ><<

That fucking receiver.

Sure, my dream wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was the closest to feeling Damien’s touch again.

And that stupid receiver had to startle me out of my heaven.

‘Who the heck is calling me so early on my day off?’ I thought to myself, dropping back to the bed with my boobs staring at the ceiling.

Last night was not my best.

I went from being pissed at Charlie for not taking the trash out, again, to being wrapped in Damien’s claws.

Hell, I barely had any sleep last night. A butt plug is still lunged in my asshole. And my vibrator has run low.

Still, I can already feel myself getting damp as the memory of my dream comes back.

Fuck ... I’d do anything to have his dick in me.

>>< RING...! ><< >>< beep.! ><<

My receiver beeped, and Charlie’s voice drifted out,

“Where’d you put your cell, bitch? I’ve called like a million times already,” She said with her usual hungover crack. I could already tell last night was fiery.

“You missed the best night at Frank’s, and now you’re AWOL? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m the one who’s supposed to make you worry about me, not the other way around. So get your shit together and act like nothing happened last night, got it?”

Geez, talk about an intense best friend.

“Anyway, I really miss you, girl, I love you almost like I love Joe, and don’t do anything stupid without me, okay?”

“Stay alive, bye!”

The receiver clicked at the end, and yes, I regret not going to the club with Charlie.

At the very least, I’d have gotten fucked out of my alleyway experience and I wouldn’t have met Damien at home.

“Ugh,” I groaned, “I need a bath.”

I crawled out of bed and dragged myself to the bathroom.

I started filling the tub with a mix of warm water, mixed it with some lavender and almond oil, and then dragged myself out of the room.

Barefooted. Butt-naked. And with a butt plug in my asshole that makes walking feel ... well, good.

Anyway, mine is a studio apartment;

The living room and kitchen have an open-plan layout with a cabinet demarcating them.

The seating arrangement consists of a long sofa directly facing the door and a TV console. A green armchair with a relaxing arc to its backrest.

Yes, it’s my favorite chair.

And yes, it’s making me think about Damien again. Okay fine, it’s the way I’m deliberately grazing my pussy that’s making me get wet.

I let out a sigh and padded over to the kitchen, prepped the coffee maker, and listened to it whine and turn.

It’s the only thing keeping my mind off of ... well, everything. Like, in every sense of the word.