Page 13 of The Tyrant's Fake Fiance

“Oh, no,” he says, opening his eyes to look at me. “I think I'm about to die from pleasure. I have to be inside of you, Dana. Now.”

There’s an urgency in his voice, a desperation that has me clenching tightly down there. He grabs me by the waist and turns my body around so his cock is nestled on my ass cheeks.

“Grip the couch.”

I do as he orders, jutting my ass out for added measure. A sharp, stinging slap lands on my bare ass, sending a pleasurable pain shooting through every pore in my body.

“What did I tell you about being naughty, kitty?”

He slides a finger inside of me and I throw my head forward with a shameless moan.

"You're dripping, love," he says, leaning over to whisper into my ear. "Do you like it when I touch you like this?"

“Yeah, please…” My voice sounds so needy– so unrecognizable. “I-I want you inside of me now. Please.”

“Such an impatient kitty,” he murmurs, his tone laced with amusement.

Suddenly, he grabs my hair and thrusts inside me with a force that has me doubling over the couch and screaming his name.Without giving me time to recover, he starts to plunge into me in fast, deliberate strokes.

I arch my back, rocking my hips to meet his thrusts. He's set off an uncontrollable hunger within me, one that has me desperate for satisfaction that only he can give. Even though I've never been with another man, I know deep down that he’s the only one that can make me feel this way. The only one that can set my body on fire with just a look… just a touch.

I've never felt so exposed. So erotic, so raw. I close my eyes, trusting my body, my soul, my very life to Damon. And he’s demanding no less. A familiar pressure starts to build inside of me, my muscles turning to jelly as pleasure sings through my veins.

It seems like I can't take it, yet I want so much more. I might shatter into a million pieces, but I don't mind.

“Damon…”

His name is a plea on my lips, but even I don't know what I'm begging for. I feel so overwhelmed, like my heart and soul are about to be ripped wide open.

“It’s alright, kitty,” he says softly, his voice reassuring. “I’m here. Let go.”

I gasp loudly as a violent wave of pleasure wracks my body. Damon isn't far behind; his seed spurts inside of me, thick and hot.

I drop my head to the couch, breathing hard.

Chapter Seven

Damon

I raise the glass of brandy to my lips, loving its smooth texture and the sting at the back of my throat. I glance around the VIP lounge of The Eclipse, taking in some of the familiar faces in the shadows around me. I'd passed through the main floor earlier and it was packed full with people who seemed to be having the time of their lives. I lean back in my chair, letting myself explore the feeling of satisfaction that settles in my chest.

I did this. It's mine.

I've come a long way not to brush it off like I always do. Three years ago, I remember my father snorting at the idea of me making it in the industry without his help. I'd left home with my meager savings and started a small club in a hole-in-the-wall building downtown. Things had only gotten better from there.

But these past few months have tested my confidence and ability. Father must have been ecstatic when I went to him for help. He must have thought he won.

My chest tightens with irritation at the thought.

“You look pretty glum for someone who made it through a major scandal with barely a scratch,” says Curt, who's been quietly nursing a glass of vodka all evening.

“You don't say,” I murmur, downing another shot of brandy.

“Most of the investors are back on board,” Curt says with a satisfied smirk. “Only a few are still reluctant, but we should be able to entice them with the Florida project.”

“I guess we have Father to thank for that,” I say with a dismissive shrug.

Curt arches his brows. “Come on, mate. You're not giving yourself enough credit. I know how tirelessly you worked behind the scenes. And the fact that you got engaged just to get things back on track is…”

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