Page 11
Story: Sold to the Beret
Rose lets go of my dick and I pull her up until she’s sitting astride me and my hands cup her hips. “That was glorious, princess. Thank you,” I say simply, smiling at her shy blush.
Her stomach takes the moment to growl, and I wince, berating myself for not feeding her. Rose snorts and laughs, and I can’t help but smile in response.
“Sorry about that,” she says, “I used to be able to hold my hunger for longer periods of time.”
I frown at her words, growing angry as the meaning becomes clearer. “Do you mean at the auction house?” I ask, feeling the sudden urge to go back to that fucking madhouse and raze it to the ground.
Her eyes widen in realization and then she smiles. She’s blissfully unaware of how close I am to detonating. “No. I mean my stepfather. He liked to starve me as punishment, and then I got used to not eating,” she says, shrugging as if it means nothing.
The tension inside me grows taut until my body physically stiffens, alerting her to the raging predator within. Her stepfather is a dead man if I have anything to do with it. “You mean to tell me that motherfucker starved you in your ownhouse? He’s fucking dead,” I say quietly, clenching my jaw to contain the rage tearing through me.
“No. I don’t want you to get involved with him,” she pleads. “It was a long time ago and I don’t care about it anymore now that I’m here with you. Please tell me you’ll let it go.” She runs her hand over my shoulders and back, then down to my chest, trying to appease me.
And it’s working. My rage slowly eases under her soft caress. “Alright, princess. I’ll do as you wish. But, that fucker better stay away from you from now on,” I warn.
I stand from the couch, carrying her with me. “Let’s wash up and get you fed, princess,” I murmur, nibbling on her lower lip.
Chapter Six
Rose
The mouthwatering scent of bacon and toast wafts into my nostrils, pulling me awake. My hands instinctively roam over to my side as I slowly blink my eyes open, but I come up empty. From the coolness of the sheets, it seems Damien has been out of the bed for a while.
Happiness blooms inside me at the thought of him. The more time I spend with him, the more my feelings for him grow. He seems so different from the man I met a few days ago…
Outwardly, he appears tough as nails, but with me he’s soft and sensitive. It’s as if he’s not used to being this way, and it’s thrilling. I enjoy being around him. I don’t have to hide my true thoughts or nature. I feel truly alive, and I haven’t felt that way since I was younger and my dad was still alive. It’s like I’ve finally received a reward for all the hardships I went through.
My stomach rumbles, and the sensation snaps me out of my daydream. I roll out of the bed and make a beeline for Damien’s closet. Yesterday, he told me to wear his clothes until mine are delivered. I pull out a pair of his shorts and a sweatshirt, smiling as I remember how we spent the rest of the day yesterday.
After we ordered breakfast and filled our stomachs, Damien gave me a tour of the huge apartment, and then he suggested we go out for lunch. I pointed out that I had nothing to wear and he pulled out his phone with a cheeky smile. We spent hours shopping online, Damien suggesting ridiculously scandalouslingerie while I laughed and blushed like a schoolgirl. Somehow, we ended up tangled in each other’s arms, kissing like our lives depended on it, plans for lunch long forgotten.
I moan softly at the ache building up in my core at the memories. I dress quickly, resisting the urge to stay in the closet and just drown in the amazing scent of him. My heart bubbles with excitement as I hurry down the long hallway.
At this point, I don’t care what our relationship is, I’m just going to go with my heart.
Strong, mouthwatering scents pull me along until I’m standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching Damien whisk some eggs in a bowl.
He turns just in time to see me and smiles softly. “Good morning, princess,” he says, gently setting the bowl on the kitchen island to walk toward me.
I take in his wide, welcoming smile and ruggedly handsome features. There’s an innate rawness and intensity in his gait. It reminds me of a dangerous panther stalking its prey. My sex clenches at the thought and I shiver slightly at the idea of being his prey. I don’t mind it at all.
“Good morning,” I breathe out, smiling softly as he stops in front of me.
He cups my cheek and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I’m making us breakfast. Come,” he orders in a low tone, pulling me along. His touch is gentle yet firm. Once at the kitchen island, he gently lifts me and places me on the counter, his hands grazing the sensitive flesh under my breasts.
I inhale softly at the contact and his dark gaze traps mine as he slowly closes the space between us. My stomach rumbles again, breaking the moment, and he winces and shakes his head.
“I can’t seem to control myself around you. Sorry about that, princess.” He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of my lips, then returns to making breakfast.
“Me too,” I say shyly.
“Do you want some coffee before breakfast is done?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
I watch him pour me a cup and add some milk and sugar. “I was going to wake you up once I’m done cooking,” he says as he offers me the mug.
“I’m glad I woke earlier then, because I like what I see,” I tease, then take a sip of the coffee, moaning softly at the rich, creamy taste.
Her stomach takes the moment to growl, and I wince, berating myself for not feeding her. Rose snorts and laughs, and I can’t help but smile in response.
“Sorry about that,” she says, “I used to be able to hold my hunger for longer periods of time.”
I frown at her words, growing angry as the meaning becomes clearer. “Do you mean at the auction house?” I ask, feeling the sudden urge to go back to that fucking madhouse and raze it to the ground.
Her eyes widen in realization and then she smiles. She’s blissfully unaware of how close I am to detonating. “No. I mean my stepfather. He liked to starve me as punishment, and then I got used to not eating,” she says, shrugging as if it means nothing.
The tension inside me grows taut until my body physically stiffens, alerting her to the raging predator within. Her stepfather is a dead man if I have anything to do with it. “You mean to tell me that motherfucker starved you in your ownhouse? He’s fucking dead,” I say quietly, clenching my jaw to contain the rage tearing through me.
“No. I don’t want you to get involved with him,” she pleads. “It was a long time ago and I don’t care about it anymore now that I’m here with you. Please tell me you’ll let it go.” She runs her hand over my shoulders and back, then down to my chest, trying to appease me.
And it’s working. My rage slowly eases under her soft caress. “Alright, princess. I’ll do as you wish. But, that fucker better stay away from you from now on,” I warn.
I stand from the couch, carrying her with me. “Let’s wash up and get you fed, princess,” I murmur, nibbling on her lower lip.
Chapter Six
Rose
The mouthwatering scent of bacon and toast wafts into my nostrils, pulling me awake. My hands instinctively roam over to my side as I slowly blink my eyes open, but I come up empty. From the coolness of the sheets, it seems Damien has been out of the bed for a while.
Happiness blooms inside me at the thought of him. The more time I spend with him, the more my feelings for him grow. He seems so different from the man I met a few days ago…
Outwardly, he appears tough as nails, but with me he’s soft and sensitive. It’s as if he’s not used to being this way, and it’s thrilling. I enjoy being around him. I don’t have to hide my true thoughts or nature. I feel truly alive, and I haven’t felt that way since I was younger and my dad was still alive. It’s like I’ve finally received a reward for all the hardships I went through.
My stomach rumbles, and the sensation snaps me out of my daydream. I roll out of the bed and make a beeline for Damien’s closet. Yesterday, he told me to wear his clothes until mine are delivered. I pull out a pair of his shorts and a sweatshirt, smiling as I remember how we spent the rest of the day yesterday.
After we ordered breakfast and filled our stomachs, Damien gave me a tour of the huge apartment, and then he suggested we go out for lunch. I pointed out that I had nothing to wear and he pulled out his phone with a cheeky smile. We spent hours shopping online, Damien suggesting ridiculously scandalouslingerie while I laughed and blushed like a schoolgirl. Somehow, we ended up tangled in each other’s arms, kissing like our lives depended on it, plans for lunch long forgotten.
I moan softly at the ache building up in my core at the memories. I dress quickly, resisting the urge to stay in the closet and just drown in the amazing scent of him. My heart bubbles with excitement as I hurry down the long hallway.
At this point, I don’t care what our relationship is, I’m just going to go with my heart.
Strong, mouthwatering scents pull me along until I’m standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching Damien whisk some eggs in a bowl.
He turns just in time to see me and smiles softly. “Good morning, princess,” he says, gently setting the bowl on the kitchen island to walk toward me.
I take in his wide, welcoming smile and ruggedly handsome features. There’s an innate rawness and intensity in his gait. It reminds me of a dangerous panther stalking its prey. My sex clenches at the thought and I shiver slightly at the idea of being his prey. I don’t mind it at all.
“Good morning,” I breathe out, smiling softly as he stops in front of me.
He cups my cheek and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I’m making us breakfast. Come,” he orders in a low tone, pulling me along. His touch is gentle yet firm. Once at the kitchen island, he gently lifts me and places me on the counter, his hands grazing the sensitive flesh under my breasts.
I inhale softly at the contact and his dark gaze traps mine as he slowly closes the space between us. My stomach rumbles again, breaking the moment, and he winces and shakes his head.
“I can’t seem to control myself around you. Sorry about that, princess.” He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of my lips, then returns to making breakfast.
“Me too,” I say shyly.
“Do you want some coffee before breakfast is done?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
I watch him pour me a cup and add some milk and sugar. “I was going to wake you up once I’m done cooking,” he says as he offers me the mug.
“I’m glad I woke earlier then, because I like what I see,” I tease, then take a sip of the coffee, moaning softly at the rich, creamy taste.