Moody Bastard

  He pulled free and seized her face in his hand, relishing how she panted for him

  “You get more of that later, Sydney, but now….”

  He positioned himself between her creamy thighs and caressed her for a moment, savoring the feel of her. His head spun with arousal and need for this woman. She lay beneath him with her pulse fluttering madly against her throat and her body bound to be taken by him, only him.

  He thrust himself back in and his balls gathered tightly against his body when he heard the sound of pleasure that Sydney released.

  It was almost like the sound of pain, she needed him so much.

  He dropped over her and kissed her, fingers caressing every inch of her body “Now you will always think of me when you think of being bound. You will think of this.”

  “Yes,” she strained out, her face ravaged in ecstasy.

  He shifted and braced up on his arms. “You will think of you being helpless…under me…bound and completely possessed by me and only me. No other man will have this. No other man will have you.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut on the next thrust and chewed on her lower lip from the effort of the fuck, hips angling up to receive him. “Who did…you think…I imagined…was binding me…?” she cried with tears in her eyes and the sweat of lust on her skin.

  “Damn you, I knew it was me,” he growled in that last final thrust and he yelled her name and shot off a huge load inside her. In that instant, Sydney reached the pinnacle, his cock continued stiffening as he shot out several more loads of sperm inside her.

  She had tears in her eyes by the time he unbound her, and he licked each one of those tears, dreading they were for someone else. He wanted to ask, but his heart cramped with fear they were for Court. He drew her to him and cuddled her, for the first time in his life, wanting to build himself a real home here.

  He was tired of not belonging anywhere, to anyone.

  He was tired of being surrounded, revered, feared…but alone.

  He was tired of being wanted for what he could give, without even anyone bothering to see the man he really was. This lovely young girl, who he suddenly wanted above anything, had always cared for him.

  But she’d been rejected by her first choice tonight, and she’d come to Damien. What sickened him was that he knew, and that he still would take her like this. He would still take her even fearing if she’d had her choice, she would’ve been somewhere else.

  He ached to make her forget her best friend. He ached to make her forget everything but him.

  She dozed off into sleep and he took advantage of her soft, dreamy state to whisper to her, “You’re mine to pleasure. Mine to caress. Mine and you know this.”

  She was groggy, clutching him to her. He kissed her softly on the lips.

  “I can’t handle a second of your lips on anyone’s but mine—your touch on anyone but me. Do you understand what I am telling you, Sydney?”

  Unwillingly she was overcome with a hot tremor of desire and her hand at the back of his neck.

  “You’re mine,” he murmured. “And I’m not going to share you with Court.”

  nine

  He woke up to the sound of running water coupled with squealing. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he rose from the bed to find his entire harem trickling into his bedroom. Six ladies, all of them in various state of undress under their coats. They squealed when they saw he, too, was naked. And in bed.

  “Damien! Mmm!” Trisha, a sassy brunette, tore off her coat and threw herself on him. Damien easily shoved her aside and rose to his feet, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms. “Put your coats back on,” he said, pushing the coat Trisha had just removed back against her.

  He’d forgotten he’d told them to come pick up their monthly allowance on the first of every month, and that he’d instructed his doormen to let them in. He’d been keeping them for years, traveling with them, had asked them to find an apartment as soon as he’d returned, telling them he’d take care of everything—as he always did. It felt like it had happened ages ago, in another lifetime, before Sydney had gone up and outright bought him.

  Shit.

  Sydney had to be in the shower—and Damien feared he was still on unsteady ground with her. Because her precious Court obviously didn’t have a harem or a history like Damien.

  Fuck the harem.

  Fuck life.

  Fuck, especially…Court.

  Gritting his teeth at the thought, he stalked down the hall and crooked his finger at them to follow him, not wanting Sydney to emerge from her shower and find his entire harem in the room.

  He had no plans to irritate his beauty at the moment. Not this moment or any other, for that matter.

  From his home office, he pulled out the middle drawer of his desk and took out his checkbook. “I’m going to need you ladies to look for another arrangement,” he said. “I’m adding a bonus you are divide equally between you while you search for another sponsor or…whatever it is you like to call me.”

  “What do you mean? Me, too?” Trisha asked.

  “And me?” another asked.

  He swept the pen across the room, eyes narrowed. “All of you.”

  They looked heartbroken until he gave them the check. They squealed and group hugged him, kissing all his face. “You’re going to miss us, Damien! You’ll want a bye bye.”

  “That won’t be necessary, I’m actually occupied so if you don’t mind, I’ll lead you out.”

  They made a racket as they crossed the living room to leave, and of course, Damien just wasn’t that lucky that they would be quiet. No. His life was a string of bad luck, one after the other, and just a second before they opened the door to leave, he heard the door of the bedroom click open.

  “Who is that?” one asked. “Are you with someone?” Trisha asked, obviously curious.

  “Can we meet her?”

  “Shit,” he murmured, hearing footsteps down the hall, dreading what Sydney would think when she saw six ladies, six very tall, sexy ladies, in heels and trench coats and red lips, in his apartment.

  Hell, Damien could almost feel the icky glob of their lipstick on his jaw and neck.

  He rubbed his jaw and tried to get that shit off him, but it was no use. Sydney was in the living room, her eyes sliding across every single lady and widening in horror.

  Her eyes widened with jealousy, then narrowed on him.

  “Sydney,” he said in his most no-nonsense tone possible, “These are…” He told her the names, and added, “They were just leaving.”

  They did. They squealed and hugged her, then Trisha whispered some sage advice into her ear, and Damien gritted his teeth and slammed the door behind them as soon as they left. He turned to Sydney, but she was already reaching for the door, “I have to go.”

  “Hey.” He caught her wrist to stop her. “Aren’t you going to ask me about them?”

  “I know who they are.”

  She wouldn’t look at him.

  “That’s it? You don’t want to know why they’re here. If they’re coming back?”

  She wiggled free. “I need to go.”

  His voice hardened. “Tell me if you at least care to know whether or not I’ve fucked them since I saw you? Do you care?”

  Her eyes flashed. “Of course you have! You're like a male whore....”

  “Isn’t that’s why you came here, last night. You wanted someone unscrupulous and dirty who’d take you to bed instead of that coward you think you love.”

  “How dare you!”

  “Oh, I dare all right. I fucking dare.” He caught her, pulled her closer, needing her to be his, just his, torn between anger and frustration. He wasn’t going to be her second best. Anyone’s second best. “It’s over with them,” he said in a hard, angry voice. “It’s done. They’re part of my past. Just like your precious Court.”

  “How dare you!”

  “You need me. You want me so bad, even now, I can see your nipples, Sydney. I can see your eyes dilate, your breath
come in fast. Does he make you feel like this?” He touched her intimately, and her breath caught, her body leaning to his.

  “Let go of me,” she breathed.

  “I will,” he breathed against the top of her head, stroking her until she was shuddering, “I will let you go, when you promise to meet me here tonight,” he said tenderly.

  She moaned in protest and pushed his hands away. “Please don’t ask.”

  “I ask.”

  She scowled. “And if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll demand it.” “Damien…”

  “I’m not done with you, Sydney, and neither are you. What do you think is going on between us now? Huh?” He leaned closer. “We’re lovers, Syd. You and I. You may love another man, but I’m the man you need, and I won’t share you with him. You can’t have us both. If you want me, then I demand you sleep every night in my bed. With me. I can’t pretend I don’t want you here daily…I can’t even think of you and not want you…”

  Her eyes darkened with arousal, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “Okay,” she grudgingly admitted. “But if I ever see you so much as glance at another woman while we’re together…”

  Damien smiled, and he kissed her softly. “You won’t,” he vowed. He had a feeling his luck was about to change.

  Six models…six tall, beautiful…

  Riding a cab back to the gallery, Sydney could still remember their lipstick on Damien’s strong, square jaw. She was sure she’d stepped into a bad cheesy porn movie. Damien Knight had been bare chested, gloriously handsome, in pajama bottoms, and surrounded by ladies in heels and coats and loose hair and lipstick—which they’d managed to get all over Damien.

  Sydney’s stomach had plummeted so hard, she’d felt nauseous. Had she thought Damien would change? Had she thought a man like him would suddenly clean his act because of her?

  But then those eyes…

  She shuddered remembering the look in them, possessive and tender, determined and hot, taking her back to the memories of last night. She’d given him her virginity and she wanted him so much, she didn’t know if she had it in her to stop. But as long as she kept her heart to herself, there was no reason to stay away, right?

  We’re lovers…

  Her heart danced in excitement at the thought.

  She stepped into the gallery and immediately spotted Court. He stood in the back of the room next to a canvas covered by a cotton cloth. Sydney’s eyes widened when she realized it was the ‘I love you’ work she’d commissioned for her best friend.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly. He turned, his eyes sparkling at the sight of her.

  “Hey,” he said, searching her expression. “Trini just brought this for you. Did I miss something?”

  “Not really, it’s private,” she said, praying Court hadn’t lifted the fabric to take a peek at it. She just didn’t know anymore. You’re mine to pleasure. Mine to caress. Mine and you know this.

  “You up for lunch today, Syd?”

  “Sure. Though we can totally have lunch here so we can get things done. I want to leave early, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure.” He followed her into the office. “Syd, I want to apologize.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Yesterday, you were trying to say something to me and I…didn’t handle it too well.” His hands were shaking at his sides, and he linked them together and tapped his thumbs together. “I didn’t know what to say.” He stared at her throat, then into her face.

  “Court…” she began. “I’m not a virgin either.”

  He stared at her. “But yesterday you said…”

  “That was yesterday.”

  She lowered her face.

  His lips pursed.

  “It’s my fault,” he groaned. “You were trying to…I can’t…” He groaned. “Sydney, tell me you’re not getting involved with him.”

  “Court…..” She thought of Damien and the women, but then she thought of the possessive manner in which he looked at her, the heat and wanting in his eyes coupled with jealousy and….maybe something else.

  Something that she felt but couldn’t put a word on too.

  Court raised his eyes, hopeful and almost pleading. “Is it temporary?”

  She thought of Damien, the passion they shared, the man she’d always wanted, one who thought he was the black diamond, who pushed her away feeling unworthy. She would love the unworthiness out of him if he let her, and he would let her, she knew his weakness now. He wanted her desperately and she would use her body any way she had to, to keep him bound to her as her heart was bound to him.

  Her throat hurt as she spoke the words. “I don’t think I’ll ever really get over him, Court. I don’t want to hurt you and I need to be honest with myself, even if he’s a guy who can hurt me, I can’t think of anyone but him right now and I need to see this through.”

  Even if he’s the end of me.

  Court stared at her as if he couldn’t comprehend why she’d do something so irrational. “He’ll hurt you, Sydney.”

  “If he does, he’ll hurt himself too. Because I think he cares for me too Court. I really do.”

  She headed into the back room when Court called after her, “What do I do with this painting? Don’t tell me it’s for him?” he asked after her.

  Realizing he’d peeked, she hastily walked back into the main room, trying to appease him. “We’re selling it,” Sydney told him, trying to come up with a story. “I want to sell it because I know that everybody looking for love, or familiar with this emotion, will resonate with it.”

  Sensing Court started to feel appeased, she smiled at him, removed the fabric completely along with the protective wrapping, and set it against one of the gallery display walls, smiling as the words screamed out I love you to the world in general.

  “I want to buy it. I’m buying it for you.”

  “Court…” she said helplessly, staring into his panicked eyes.

  It was as if he’d finally awakened, as if the jealousy of losing Sydney had finally opened his eyes.

  She had a sudden vision of what life with him would be like. Art shows and galleries, sweet talks and even sweeter kisses, holding hands and comfort. With Damien it would be fire and fights, passion and sex, sometimes sweet kisses, possibly sometimes art shows, who really knew with him?

  Sydney reached into her heart and tried to quiet her fears, searching for what was truly there. She took his hand, repeating his name, in a different tone, and told him the truth. “Court, I love you. I got this painting for you.”

  ten

  “It’s losing pink…” the master cutter had called Damien moments ago to say. Damien was not happy to hear it. Now, he loomed behind the cutter and gazed into the half-cut beautiful fancy pink diamond, all its promise of glory fading before his eyes.

  “Do we keep going?” he asked, turning the stone, evaluating it from every angle.

  Damien gazed down at the stone with a sense of urgency. If they kept going, he could lose it, but he could also make it happen. Great things never came from comfort zones, and inside this building, no pussies were allowed.

  “Keep going,” Damien growled. “If it’s a floozy, it’s a floozy whatever we do. Let it shine. Let it be what it wants to.”

  He headed to his office and stared out the window, nothing but Sydney on his mind. She better be there tonight or he’d go find her. She was like that pink diamond, and he would not stop until he had her.

  Hell he fucking loved her.

  He’d never felt like this. His chest hurt, he had to see her. He felt restless not being close to her. This was what he’d been fighting for too long, what he knew deep down ever since she’d come to him would happen. This girl would be his downfall.

  Damn, it had never felt better to be a fallen man.

  Sydney was trembling when she headed that evening to Damien’s place, her stomach burning with knots at the thought of what she wanted to tell him. She was not going to pick with her brain, a m
an would be compatible to her, who wouldn’t abandon her. She was following her heart to a man who had a harem at his doorstep but who looked at her like no man had ever looked at her before.

  She had told Court that she loved him, but that she’d realized that her love for him was more friendly, brotherly, like loving a home. “But these nights I’ve spent with Damien I’ve realized who owns my heart, as a man should,” she’d said.

  “Then I don’t think,” Court had said with genuine sympathy and finally, some understanding, “that this painting was truly meant for me.”

  Now she stood at Damien’s door, with her heart in her sleeve. No, she wouldn’t give him the painting. She had insisted Court keep it. She had ordered it for him, after all. And she was sure it would only appreciate in value as Trini continued doing so well. Court got the painting, but her heart…her heart was—

  Damien swung the door open wearing the most delicious smile and a satin sleep robe, and her heart stuttered. “Hey,” she said as their eyes met and held.

  Her resolve only intensified when he seized her hand and pulled her in, setting a quick, fierce kiss on her lips.

  “Someone’s happy today,” she murmured.

  Oh my. Did he look extra hot today or even hotter than that? And the expression on his face and in his eyes was as possessive as she remembered.

  “I had a good day today.” He pulled her close and his arms reminded her of where she belonged now. “Want to see something?” he asked.

  She moved her head in consent.

  Damien guided her to the living room, told her to sit, and pulled out a beautiful sparkling thing. “What is it,” she asked, mesmerized at the fancy pink hue.

  “It’s a natural fancy pink diamond. The largest in the world.”

  “It looks like a paperweight,” she said, amazed.

  She didn’t know what she appreciated most, the look of pride in Damien’s eyes or the diamond itself.