Page 21 of Lethal Devotion
I slump back in the chair as the events of the evening, two orgasms, and three glasses of whiskey send me into a slumber so deep that I don’t even hear the glass hit the floor as it falls from my fingers.
7
DAMIAN
I’m not sure how long I’m asleep for before a scream cuts through the dawn like a knife, waking me so abruptly that I’m on my feet with my gun in my hand before I’m even fully awake. I blink, my senses slowly returning as the cry fades, and I realize that it came from down the hall. A feminine scream, from the direction of Sienna’s room.
I’m still naked, the towel having fallen to the floor at some point while I was asleep, and half-hard, my morning wood well on its way to being at full mast. I pause, waiting to hear if there’s any other sound, anything to suggest that someone got past Konstantin’s considerable security and into my wife’s bedroom.
There’s another sound, much softer this time, barely audible. Something like a whimper.
She’s having a nightmare.
I’m almost to the door, still on autopilot, before I come fully to my senses. The house has fallen silent again, and I drop my hand, my gun at my side as I consider what I’m doing.
Don’t go to her bedroom,my logical mind warns me.
Go to her room. Make sure she’s alright. And then…
A different part of my anatomy, one that’s almost fully hard now, is pushing me toward the latter. I curse under my breath, backing up toward the bed as I drop my gun onto the nightstand and sink down onto the edge of the mattress.
The last thing I need to do is go into Sienna’s room. A good husband would check on her, make sure that she’s alright…but it’s just a nightmare. Nothing real, nothing deadly. And being abruptly woken by me coming into her room might frighten her more than the dream.
I glance at the clock. It’s nearly six in the morning. Sienna will probably be asleep for a while yet—I hope she is. She needs it after last night. But I might as well get up and start my day. Konstantin will want to meet and discuss what’s happened before too long, and I’m starving.
For more than just food. I wince as I feel the tip of my cock brush against my navel. I’m hard again, ravenous for something I have no business wanting, hornier than I’ve been since I was a teenager. Something about Sienna has awakened something in me—a need, a desire that makes me hate myself for how badly I want her. But the evidence is there, throbbing and refusing to be ignored, and I reach down, sprawling back on the bed as I grit my teeth and start to stroke my aching length. I’m sore from jerking off twice last night without lubrication, too desperate to come to bother waiting, and I don’t bother finding any now.I deserve this, I think as I rub my hand faster over my raw cock, trying to force the images of Sienna’s slender, naked body bouncing on it out of my head. If I can’t stop thinking about my young, innocent wife, if I can’t stop wanting her, then I deserve to rub my cock fucking raw while I think about her.
I come hard and fast, spattering the flexing muscles of my stomach with stripes of cum as I groan through my teeth, imagining my fingers sinking into Sienna’s soft flesh, her bent over, riding me backwards as I grip the curve of her ass. I imagine pulling out, painting her back with my cum, and my head falls back against the pillow as I try to catch my breath, my muscles vibrating with the force of my orgasm.
I haven’t come this hard in a long time. Certainly not from stroking myself.This is a fucking problem.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve showered and dressed again and made it out of my bedroom. I pivot on my heel, striding away from Sienna’s room and toward the stairs, heading down to the kitchen where I know breakfast will be waiting for me. The promise of food and the return to my usual routine drains some of the tension from my shoulders as I make it downstairs, striding across the marble floor toward the kitchen.
I don’t ever bother eating in the dining room, unless Konstantin requests me there for some reason. It’s too fancy and formal for my tastes, and I’d rather sit at the small staff table in the kitchen, where Mrs. Horvat can put food on my plate as she’s cooking it, and I can have a few moments of peace before the stressors of the day. She’s already there when I walk in, and there’s already a plate waiting for me. It’s piled high with pancakes smothered in butter and syrup, several blueberry sausage links, and a mound of eggs covered in what looks like sharp cheddar cheese. A glass of orange juice and a hot cup of coffee are waiting for me as well, and I drop into the chair, shooting her a grateful look as I reach for my fork.
“Good morning, Damian.” She glances over at me as she scoops a poached egg onto a plate, carefully setting it atop a piece of toast already piled with smoked salmon. Konstantin’s breakfast, probably. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough,” I grunt between mouthfuls of eggs. “Have there been any issues with our guests?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” She glances at me. “Are you going to explain how it is that you have a wife?”
“Not right now.” I take a bite of sausage, briefly closing my eyes. It’s hot, pops as I sink my teeth into it, and is utterly delicious. “I’m already going to have to debrief the boss here shortly.”
“Well, I’m just the housekeeper.” She plants her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at me. “But all of this is very unusual, Damian.”
“I’m aware.” I turn my attention back to my food, and Mrs. Horvat,clearly picking up that she’s not going to get anything else from me, grabs the other plates of breakfast and bustles out of the kitchen to hand them off to the serving staff.
I wolf down the food, gulping down the coffee and pouring myself a second cup to brace myself against a day with less sleep than usual. When Mrs. Horvat returns, I glance back over at her.
“When they wake up, make sure they get whatever they need,” I tell her firmly. “Sienna is my wife, and the boy is under my protection as well. If she needs me, have someone come find me. And make sure no one bothers her. If anyone does, it should be clear that she’s my wife, and there will be consequences.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Horvat bobs her head. “Is this a… permanent arrangement?” She looks at me curiously, and I huff out a sharp breath.
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly, and her eyebrows rise, but she wisely turns her attention back to breakfast. I don’t have any more answers for her, and I also don’t have any desire to keep talking about it. There will be plenty of conversation when I speak to Konstantin here shortly.
I finish my food just in time to get a text from Konstantin telling me to meet him in his office. I shove my chair back, thanking Mrs. Horvat for breakfast again before heading down the hallways to the office at the back of the first floor of the mansion. It has a gorgeous view of the water, the windows open today to let in the warm, salty sea breeze, and Konstantin is already behind his desk, sipping a cup of coffee as he sorts through reports. He looks up as soon as I walk in, his expression taut.
“What happened last night?” he asks abruptly, as I drop into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “Fill me in.”
