Page 110 of Give In

“That’s sweet of them,” I whispered, a surprising pang clenching my stomach. It wasn’t envy, per-se, more of… what could’ve been.Should’vebeen.

“It is.” Reaching over, he turned off the lamp and rolled over so his front was pressed to my back. Like last time we slept together, he cupped my breast in one hand and rested the other at the base of my throat. It was a possessive hold, but also protective. I felt surrounded by him. Safe.

He’s not the only one who’s insane. I’ve obviously lost my mind.

“Why do you have me sleep on this side?” I asked, fighting sleep.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought this was the side of the bed you usually sleep on.”

“It is. And when I sleep there after you, it smells like you.” He paused before adding, “Not that it matters since you’ll be there now.”

My stomach went all gooey and flipped. “Oh.”

Damien’s fingers stroked along my collarbone. It was even more calming than when he played with my hair, and my lids got too heavy to stay open, even though I didn’t want the night to be over.

“Sleep,” he said. “You’ve got classes tomorrow, and one of your professors is an asshole.”

“Nah,” I muttered groggily, quickly losing the fight against sleep. “He’s not so bad.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Drowning

Eden

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

What was I thinking?

Oh, right, I was thinking about his dick, finally getting to come, and having awesome sex that ended up being the best of my life.

Hmm, maybe this is all worth it then.

Walking down the hallway toward political theory, my stomach flipped and churned. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though. It was like waiting in line for a roller coaster and being filled with nerves, anticipation, and adrenaline.

Only it wasn’t a coaster I’d ridden the night before.

That morning, I’d woken with Damien’s mouth between my legs and an orgasm already building. Before it could explode, he’d sexually manipulated me into showering with him, where he’d again played and teased until I’d begged, though he hadn’t relented.

After we’d dressed, he’d sat me on the kitchen island with a cup of perfectly beige coffee and some Motrin while he’d made breakfast. A breakfast I’d eaten while sitting on his lap. Maybe it was because I’d been so turned on and desperate for the feel of him, but sitting there hadn’t felt as ridiculous as I’d expected.

I’d liked it. A lot.

As soon as I’d taken my last bite, Damien had roughly tugged my pants down then put me on the table to eat me while he’d stroked his cock. I’d come hard—twice—before he’d stood to come on my pussy.

I took that to mean he’d also liked it. A lot.

And it’d proved he really did know my body better than I did, because as badly as I’d wanted to have sex, the tenderness from the previous night had grown increasingly more uncomfortable until the pain meds he’d given me kicked in. Sex would’ve hurt, and not in the good way.

By the time we’d finished, he was running late, and I’d barely had enough time to stop home to get ready before rushing to my first class.

Thankfully, my classes had been too demanding for me to obsess and panic, but as I approached Damien’s classroom, the floodgates opened and my thoughts raced.

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