Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
As if somehow sensing the mental shift in her from pure lust-crazed maniac to something more closely resembling a trained slave girl, he smiled a slow, sensual smile, his eyelids hooding with power.
“That’s right,” he crooned. “I own you. Don’t forget that.”
“No,” she breathed, entranced. “No, Sir. I won’t forget.”
He lifted her hands from his chest. His gaze lingering on hers, he kissed each palm in turn. The brush of his lips on her skin was deeply sensual, warming her from the inside out.
Then, with slow deliberation, he began to move inside her. It wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies locked together. The friction was perfect against her clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
Both breathless now, sweat sheening their skin, they kept their eyes on one another’s faces, the intimacy between them something altogether new and impossibly precious.
Finally, nearly incoherent with need, Ellen cried out, “Please, Sir. May I come?”
“You may.”
He arched up against her as she climaxed, spurting his sweet, hot seed inside her. As waves of pleasure radiated out from her core, Ellen felt as if Master Damon was drawing music from her bones and she lost herself in its song.
She fell against him as he rolled to his side, taking her with him. His strong arms entwined around her as the rapid tattoos of their hearts slowed their beat. Ellen’s eyelids, suddenly heavy, slowly closed. The last thing she heard as sleep claimed her was her name on his lips.
“Ellen, my love.”
Rapid, panicked breathing slipped into her dreams like a call for help in the dark. Startled, she came fully awake, her eyes flying open in alarm. The bedside lamp was still on. Damon lay beside her, the sheets tangled around him, his face a rictus of pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Damon,” she cried, shaking his shoulder. “Damon, wake up. Please, wake up.”
All at once, he shot upright, his eyes wild as he clutched his chest. When his gaze landed on her, the confusion and fear drained from his face, replaced by chagrin.
“Oh, man,” he said, rubbing his face with his hands. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Ellen. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She curled into him, putting her head on his chest. His heart was still beating fast. Lifting her head to see his face, she said, “Tell me, Damon. Tell me what it is that continues to haunt your dreams. Maybe if you share it, you can loosen its grip.”
He attempted a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, it’s noth—” he began. But then he cut himself off. “No. It’s not nothing. It’s…” He blew out a breath. “I want to tell you. I can’t demand your trust and not give it to you in return.”
Gently, he pressed her head back to his chest. She understood this would be easier for him if he didn’t have to face her as he shared. She wasn’t afraid to hear it, whatever it was. She would be there for him, no matter what, if he would just let her in.
For a long moment, Damon said nothing. Ellen remained still and quiet, as if he were a wild animal who might bolt at any moment.
Finally, he said, “These nightmares. They always center around a particular mission. It was my last assignment in special ops, right before I retired from the military.” He blew out a breath, as if girding himself to continue.
“I can’t share the specific details because it’s still classified, but we were going after an extremist terrorist organization that had a well-fortified enclave in a remote desert region. The goal was to take out their leader—a precision assault to neutralize a high-value target, as they say in military jargon. It was the culmination of months of intelligence gathering and planning.”
He paused again, his body tensing beneath hers. Ellen placed her hand over his heart and pressed gently, letting him know without speaking that she was there; she was listening.
“So, everything was going according to plan. We were in, the target located, weapons aimed. But turns out our intelligence wasn’t as complete or accurate as we thought. We didn’t know about the children.”
“Children?” Ellen whispered.
“Yeah,” he said heavily. “There were children in the compound. These terrorists were forcing children to carry out tasks like planting explosives or serving as human shields.”
His voice cracked and he drew in a breath. “Gunfire was exchanged and everything was pretty chaotic at that point. I was barely aware of what was going on around me, totally focused on the target. I had him in my sight. Then…”
Another painful draw of breath. In a tumble of words, he continued, “Exactly as I pulled the trigger, a boy, a little boy not much older than eight or nine, darted in front of the target.” His voice cracked again. “I didn’t even process what was happening until it was over. I got the target but the boy… the boy was dead.”