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Authors: Olivia Stephens

Merrick: Harlequins MC (33 page)

BOOK: Merrick: Harlequins MC
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CHAPTER
THREE

 

“You don't know what he's like,” Cassie whispered.

 

“You don't know what
I'm
like.”

 

Damon and Cassie sat in his room together as night fell outside. After Carl had questioned her – and had shot down his request to go handle the problem once and for all – Damon had gone for a ride to clear his head. Maybe on some level, he was hoping to run into Andy on the road just to give him an excuse to beat the man to a pulp. After a couple of hours, he returned to the compound with beer and some burgers.

 

He drained his can and tossed it into the paper bag as Cassie looked at him. Her mind and body were awash in emotions – the primary one being fear. She had felt her heart sink when she saw Andy on the club's security monitors lurking around outside. He knew she was in there thanks to the handy tracking device he'd planted on her.

 

She should have known better. She should have known that he would do something like that. He'd been that controlling since shortly after they'd married. He'd tried to control what she could wear, where she could go, and who she could see. And, of course, of the very few people he allowed her to see, she could never see them unless he was present to monitor her. She'd lost virtually all of her friends and had no life to speak of.

 

Cassie's life – such as it was – consisted of sitting at home when Andy wasn't there, making sure his dinner was hot and ready when he got home from work, and catering to his every whim on command. There were more days than she cared to admit that she wanted to kill herself and end it all. She didn't want to continue living like that. But it was her fear that kept her from actually doing it.

 

“I just feel so stupid for not thinking he'd plant a tracker on me,” she said. “I should have known. I should have left that purse behind with everything else.”

 

Damon handed her another beer and gave her a small smile. “Not your fault. You couldn't have known.”

 

“I should have.”

 

“That's the thing about abusers,” he said. “They convince you you're wrong. No matter what you do, you're always wrong. You should have done this. Shouldn't have done that. If only you'd thought of this or hadn't thought that. These assholes twist you up into knots until you actually start believing that bullshit. And that's what it is – bullshit. Punks like Andy get off on doing that to you. Fucking with your head. And because they're such weak little pieces of garbage – and they know they are – they have to control somebody they think is weaker than them. They're the lowest pieces of garbage on the planet.”

 

Cassie cocked her head and gave him a curious expression. “You sound like you have some experience with people like him.”

 

Damon's mind flashed back to his childhood. To what seemed like a lifetime spent in uncertainty and terror. He recalled being a child, of listening to the yelling and screaming in the other room. He remembered that, at first, it was raised voices behind closed doors under the cover of night. Eventually, those midnight shouting matches carried over into the daytime, and then into public. And, over time, those shouting matches turned to something more violent. Damon learned early on what shame and embarrassment truly were. They were feelings he remembered and carried with him to that very day.

 

He shrugged and opened a new beer. “A little. Enough to know his type.”

 

Cassie could see there was more to it than what he was saying. A lot more. She could see a pain and torment hidden deep within his eyes. It was something she could tell he took great care to keep locked up and hidden away from the world. But as soon as she'd seen it in his eyes, the curtain fell back into place and Damon's vulnerability disappeared once more. He looked at her with eyes that were hardened again, jaded, tempered by life.

 

“Enough to know his type?” she asked gently.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Damon got up off the bed and crossed the room, staring out of the window at the darkened landscape beyond. Cassie stood up and crossed the room, standing behind him and put her hand softly on his shoulder. “Listen,” she said, “if you want to talk about something – anything – I'm here. You saved my ass the other night. The very least I can do is be a sounding board.”

 

Damon looked at her blankly. “Nothing to talk about.”

 

“I just thought that – ”

 

“Like I said, nothing to talk about.”

 

The cold rebuff felt a little like a slap in the face to her. No, they weren't dating, but after what they'd shared the night before, she thought they were a little more than just two strangers on the street. But the way he'd looked at her had been cold, like she was nothing. Meant nothing. It was similar to how Andy sometimes looked at her and it sent a piercing pain through her heart. Cassie stepped away and went back over to the bed and sat down again, saying nothing.

 

Damon looked at her and felt bad. He knew she was just trying to help. To be a kind shoulder for him to cry on. But he hadn't gotten to his age by needing soft shoulders to cry on. If the military had taught him one thing, it was that the trials and tribulations of life could either harden you into steel that couldn't be broken or turn you into a puddle of quivering jelly. Damon had opted for the former and he wore a thick armor that protected him from all of life's battles. But on some level he also knew it was so thick, it prevented anybody from ever getting in. But it was a tradeoff he had willingly made and would make again a hundred times over.

 

“What are you going to do when he comes back?” she asked without looking up at him. “Because he will. Andy's not going to let me go that easily.”

 

Damon shrugged. “I'll handle him.”

 

“Handle him? What do you mean?”

 

“Does it matter? Do you care?”

 

“Do I care what happens to Andy? No, of course not.”

 

“Then what I do or don't do doesn't matter.”

 

Cassie shook her head. “I'm more worried about what Andy might do. You don't know him like I do.”

 

Damon gave her an incredulous expression. “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

She looked at him with a look she hoped conveyed her concern. “Andy can be – violent. Volatile. I don't want to see you get hurt.”

 

Damon's laugh was short, sharp, and bitter. “Seriously? You're worried about what that guy can do to me?”

 

“Like I said, you don't know him like I do. You don't know what he's capable of.”

 

“Thanks, but I think I can handle myself.”

 

Cassie shook her head. “I just don't want to see anything happen to you.”

 

“What do you care? I'm just some guy who gave you a lift and a good fuck, right? I'm obviously not the kind of guy who can protect you from a big bad like Andy.”

 

“I didn't say that. I – ”

 

“Save it.”

 

“Damon, I'm just saying – ”

 

“Look, like you said, I don't know him. Maybe he gets the drop on me, maybe he doesn't,” Damon snapped. “But you don't know me either. You don't know the things I've done. The things I've had to do to protect what's mine.”

 

Cassie looked at him and something in his tone made her blood run cold. There was a jagged edge about him all of the sudden and the air in the room felt like the atmosphere just before a big storm broke – sort of hushed, ominous, and carrying the threat of violence.

 

“Damon, have you…killed people before?”

 

He shrugged. “Like I said, you don't know what I've had to do to protect what's mine.”

 

She knew from the moment she saw him standing in that stairwell that there was something dangerous about Damon. He had a steel edge and always seemed one second away from exploding into a violent frenzy. She didn't fear him. For all of the danger that seemed to be a part of him, she knew she'd never have to fear him. That he'd never do anything to hurt her. At the time, she didn't know why she felt so certain of that, but she did. And their conversations since then only reinforced that idea.

 

But when he spoke the way he was, when there was that brittle, icy tone in his words, she remembered he was dangerous. That he had, without a doubt, hurt people before. She just didn't know he'd actually killed anybody. But, apparently, he had.

 

The one thing that concerned her, though, was that he was referring to protecting what was his as a justification for doing the things he'd done. Did that mean, then, that he considered her something that belonged to him? In his mind, was she his property that needed protecting?

 

Though the thought of him thinking of her that way – as his property – was mildly offensive and off-putting, she couldn't deny that there was something about it that was comforting. And maybe even a little bit sexy. That he would fight to protect her was incredibly attractive to her.

 

“I hope it doesn't come to that,” she said.

 

Damon shrugged. “It is what it is,” he said. “Whatever happens is going to happen. We deal with it and move forward.”

 

She gave him a small, sad smile. She was afraid – afraid for herself, for Damon, and, strangely enough, for Andy. Because she knew he would be no match for Damon.

 

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

 

Damon stared out the window at Andy who was sitting in his car. Too afraid to get out and come inside? Probably so. Maybe hoping Cassie would come to him? More likely. Pricks like him seemed to think they're always in the right, that their women are lucky to have them. He probably lit up her cellphone with apologies, promising to never do it again. But as soon as he took her home, he'd beat the shit out of her all over again, saying she made him do it, that it was all her fault.

 

And Cassie, like so many others, would believe him. That it was her fault. She tried to play it off and act like it didn't bother her, but Damon knew that she was scarred and scarred deeply.

 

“Don't even think about it,” Cassie said from the bed. She was sitting up, flipping through one of his magazines and wearing nothing but one of his old shirts. It barely covered her thighs, much less her more intimate parts, and he could see from where he was standing that she wasn't wearing any panties.

 

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her. A half-smile formed on his lips as he stared, admiring the way the moonlight shone off her legs – legs that were just begging to be touched.

 

“You want to go down and mess with Andy. I can see it in the way you're standing there, fists balled up as if you're ready to punch something. Just calm down and remember – ”

 

“I know, Cassie. I don't need you to remind me,” he said with a sigh.

 

Looking over at her, she was trying to act as casual as possible but he could see the fear in her eyes. Fear of that piece of shit downstairs. No woman should ever have to fear a man like that, and as much as Damon hated to admit it, seeing that look in her eyes drove him crazy. It made him feel things he shouldn't be feeling for a woman he hardly knew – a woman he knew he shouldn't get entangled with. It made him want to get even with Andy in the worst way possible. Considering the fact that his hands were tied, though, he only had one other choice. 

 

Take what was Andy's and drive
him
crazy.

 

Damon walked over to her, tossing the magazine onto the floor. She stared up at him with a confused and almost frightened look on her face. Damn it. The last thing he wanted to do was make her more fearful and remind her of the bastard who beat her.

 

Grabbing her by the chin, Damon kissed her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth before she had a chance to protest. Not that she would. She wasn't the protesting type. Taking one of her breasts in his hand, he flicked her nipple, teasing her. Cassie let out a soft groan as her body moved underneath his, just begging to be touched.

 

Her hands reached for his zipper, but he grabbed them both, pinning them behind her. Damon pulled away from the kiss and asked her, “What do you want Cassie?”

 

“I want – ” she whispered.

 

“Louder, baby. You need to speak louder,” Damon said, cupping his ear with his free hand as if he couldn't hear her.

 

“I want you – ”

 

“Not loud enough,” he said, raising his voice even more. “Tell me, Cassie, what do you want me to do to you?”

 

“I want you to fuck me,” she said, louder but still not loud enough for his purposes.

 

It would have to do.

 

With one hand still holding hers over her head, he unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor along with his boxers. He stood there in front of her, naked and hard as a rock. He was ready to take her, but he needed to be sure to get the job done. He might only have one chance to get under Andy's skin.

 

She motioned as if she wanted to suck his cock, but he pulled her up by the hair. She let out a soft gasp, but as she stared up at him with wide, doe eyes, he saw nothing but pure need and unrepentant lust in them. Gone was the fear. She was horny as fuck and ready to do as he pleased.

 

Cassie struggled against his hold, yearning to touch him, yearning to run her hands down his ripped, bare chest – but he wouldn't let her.

 

“Tell me again, Cassie – and make sure the entire fucking world can hear you this time – what do you want me to do to you? You just have to do this one thing for me baby doll. Do it and I'll treat you real nice.”

 

Clearing her throat, Cassie spoke up, louder than he'd ever heard her before. “I want you to fuck me, Damon.”

 

“Wish granted,” Damon said, pushing her down on the bed.

 

As she fell to the bed, her legs opened up, revealing the pink prize between them. As much as Damon wanted to fuck her, he knew this girl likely didn't get much in the way of oral pleasure. Not from a selfish jackass like Andy.

 

Falling between her legs, he surprised her with a kiss, circling his tongue around her clit. Cassie wasn't prepared for that and her body writhed underneath him. She wound her hands into his hair, grabbing and pulling at it, forcing his tongue deeper inside of her. She tasted like honey and he licked and sucked on her furiously. “Oh God,” she murmured, her eyes squeezed shut as she reveled in the sensation of his mouth and tongue on her.

 

“Louder,” he mumbled against her pussy.

 

His lips tingled her most sensitive spots. He sunk his tongue deep inside her quivering pussy, sending shockwaves throughout her entire body.

 

“Oh God, Damon – oh my fucking God,” she said, trying to be as loud as possible.

 

The louder she got, the easier – and more fun – it was. Especially as every movement of his tongue brought her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. She let out a soft scream of pleasure, words indecipherable, as her body lifted off the bed.

 

“Good girl,” he said, without so much as looking up at her.

 

She wanted to please him, to make him happy. If he wanted loud – she could make that happen. Her hands were entangled in his long hair as her body experienced wave after wave of pleasure. She pressed him deeper and deeper into her as her toes curled up from the intensity of the sensations she was feeling. She could no longer form a complete sentence, but she cried out his name over and over again as she rushed toward orgasm.

 

And when it finally hit, she screamed and bucked and cried out “Oh God” over and over again for what felt like an eternity. Her entire body was on fire and never before had she felt anything like this. The way his tongue worked over her – it was nothing short of amazing.

 

And he wasn't done with her yet.

 

“Turn around,” Damon growled.

 

Cassie did as she was told, rolling over on her stomach. He grabbed her by the hair, lifting her up off the bed slightly and positioned himself so his cock was rubbing up against her ass. He rubbed himself against her, teasing her with his large, swollen dick until she called out, “Please, Damon. Fuck me,” and made sure she was as loud as he wanted her to be.

 

He thrust into her completely, causing her to gasp and grab onto sheets with both hands. He spread her open, penetrated her and the feeling of being stretched to the limits was almost painful. Almost, but not quite. Mixed in with the near pain was an undeniable pleasure that rippled through her body.

 

It was more pleasure than pain. By far. Feeling him inside of her, sheathed to the hilt, and feeling his hands on her ass, was beyond intoxicating. He let out a groan as he entered her, and again as he pulled his cock out of her, only to thrust himself back in as deep as he could go.

 

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he said. “Like heaven, Cassie.”

 

He went slowly at first, gradually speeding up. Her ass bobbed along with his rhythm and his hands helped guide the way, his nails digging into her flesh as he fucked her.

 

“Harder,” she cried out through gritted teeth, mostly because she wanted to please him. “Harder, Damon. Please – ”

 

But her cries turned into screams as he shoved himself so hard and deep inside of her, she feared he might have hit her cervix.

 

“Is that hard enough for you, Cassie?” he said.

 

“Yes, yes – ” she cried out, her face now plastered to the pillow.

 

Still, even as rough as he looked, he still took care not to hurt her. He grabbed her by the hair, holding her head up so her screams would echo through the room, along with his grunts and groans. Everyone in the clubhouse would be able to hear them, but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered at that point besides their bodies being intertwined together in perfect harmony.

 

“Fuck,” he said. “I'm close.”

 

“Cum inside me,” she cried out. “Please.”

 

Damon grabbed her and flipped her around so she was on her back once more. At first, Cassie feared he was going to yell at her for being so careless.

 

“I'm on the pill – ” she started to say, but he stopped her with a kiss.

 

Lifting her shirt up, he slid himself back into her, kissing her while he fucked her. Making her call out his name and squirm underneath him felt so fucking good. He could feel the cum building up deep inside of him. He switched positions to last a bit longer, to make sure she came at least once more before he finished up. As much as he wanted to shoot his load inside her hot little twat, he also wanted to make sure she had another mind-blowing orgasm – sound effects included.

 

He thrust himself inside of her over and over again, and he could tell by her shallow breathing that she was close. All she could muster up was “Please, Damon – please don't stop – ” before she cut herself off, digging her nails deep into his back. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his body and she lifted herself up, as if trying to take even more of him inside of her than was humanly possible.

 

Her pussy spasmed around his cock, tightening up to the point he lost all control. Together, they rode out one massive climax, their bodies shuddering against one another, their screams blending in together, as he exploded deep inside of her pussy.

 

“Damn,” he said, slowing down and collapsing on top of her. “That was good.”

 

She felt his now soft cock sliding out of her, the rush of warm liquid following close behind as he slid to her side, pulling her close, and giving her another kiss.

 

Damon got out of bed, leaving Cassie lying there, still breathing heavy and covered in sweat. He had to admit sex with her was great. Amazing. But there was something inside of him that told him to be cautious. It was a little voice that whispered from the far, dark corners of his brain. It told him he was enjoying sex with Cassie so much because it wasn't just about sex with her. The voice told him that there was more to it than that. That he felt more about it than he was willing to admit.

 

Damon squashed the voices, stamping them out ruthlessly as he grabbed his pants and put them on as quickly as he could.

 

“Where are you going?” Cassie asked, sounding half-asleep.

 

“Gotta go.”

 

“I thought you might stay,” her voice was dripping with disappointment.

 

“Have things I need to take care of.”

 

There was a part of Damon that wanted to stay. Wanted to lie in bed with Cassie. The voices in the back of his mind whispered urgently to him, telling him to stay with her. Telling him he wanted to stay and that he knew it. Even though that might be true, Damon silenced the voices again as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head. He couldn't afford to let himself get attached. Not now. Probably not ever. He wouldn't.

 

His deal with Cassie was what it was – it was a business transaction, of sorts. He gave her shelter, food, and protection and in return, she gave him the ability to get his rocks off. It was a win-win in Damon's book and it was enough.

 

“What do you need to take care of?” she asked.

 

“Club business,” he said. “Carl needs my help with a few things.”

 

Cassie nodded but looked disappointed. He could tell that even though it had been just a few days, she was growing attached to him – which might be a problem for Damon. But he didn't give himself time to dwell on it. He put his boots on and got out of there as fast as he could, leaving Cassie to pout in silence alone.

BOOK: Merrick: Harlequins MC
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