Page 84 of Give In

And the darkness inside me.

Chapter Nineteen

It’s Not Polite to Stare

Damien

I’d known the exact moment Eden had finally allowed herself to relax. It’d come in stages. Her body had gradually loosened, melting into mine. It’d taken longer, but her hands had eventually stopped fidgeting, which meant her mind had quieted, too. I’d thought she was asleep, but then she’d snuggled in, wiggling her tight ass against my dick as she’d burrowed deeper into me.

Under my skin.

It’d almost been enough to make me roll her over and wake her back up with my mouth.

But I had a plan to stick to, a reason for the torture I was putting myself through. Even if it didn’t feel like it right then, with her body perfectly fit with mine and my dick so hard it hurt, it’d be worth it.

Inhaling deeply, I got a nose full of Eden’s sweet scent. She wiggled again, arching and settling back in with her ass pressed harder against me and her leg stretched to force its way between mine.

Awake she might call me every well-deserved name there was, but in sleep she sought me out.

Good for the plan. Torment for my dick.

Sleep wasn’t happening. Carefully, I uncurled from around her and moved to the other side of the bed. I froze when she rolled and nearly went back when she reached out toward me, her unconscious mind wanting what her cognizant one denied.

But staying meant fucking her. And fucking her meant fucking everything up.

Is it worth it?

Standing, I looked down at Eden in the streaming moonlight. Her face was relaxed in a way I’d rarely seen, her blonde hair tousled against the pillow like a wicked halo. She was delicately beautiful.

Ethereal.

An angel.

Mine.

Completely fucking worth it.

Quietly, I left the room, easing the door closed behind me. Heading for my bathroom, I turned the shower on to heat up before shoving my boxers off, my dick bouncing with freedom. I stepped into the shower stall, the spray of the hot water stinging as it pelted my body. Jets hit my shoulders and back, but the muscles didn’t loosen.

Twisting the control all the way to blue, the freezing water shocked my body. My balls were about to turn into snowballs, but still, my dick stayed hard.

After adjusting the temperature once more, I turned away from the spray and wrapped a fist around myself. Closing my eyes, an image of Eden on her knees formed, her full lips opening eagerly. Up and down I stroked, but in my mind, it was her mouth working me—taking me down her throat like my dick was more important than breathing.

The fantasy shifted, like rapid snapshots forming a flip book. The way she moved. Her stripping—not for everyone, but earlier that night. Just for me. The way her body felt under mine, all soft skin and softer curves. Her attitude when she glared at me, cursing me in her head. Or if I really pissed her off, out loud. And her smile.

My palm slapped the tile, holding me up as the visual of her smiling at me took root. Eden spread on my bed, offering me everything. Open and willing and ready.

Trusting.

With that damn smile.

Resting my forehead against my hand on the wall, my fist moved faster.

A small gasp sounded from the door, and my muscles bunched, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t have if I wanted to, and I sure as hell didn’t. Not wanting her to know I’d heard her, I shifted just enough to glance at Eden in the doorway.

Her focus on my dick was so absolute, she didn’t notice my own stare.

For months, her image—either a memory or a carefully cultivated fantasy—had caused me to shoot my load more times than I could count.

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