Chapter 12

Alison

“This is all your fucking fault!” Damien yelled as he stepped out of the car.

I trembled as I saw the anger in his eyes. It reminded me of that night, and my fear only grew.

“I’m sorry.” I said.

“I told you to shoot. Why couldn’t you fucking shoot the gun?”

I didn’t speak, and made Damien turn away from me.

“I need to call Hugh to come pick us up.”

He said as he pulled out his phone.

“Shit!” he exclaimed in frustration. “My screen’s cracked. Things just keep getting fucking worse.”

I watched as he flung his phone on the ground, then he turned to face me.

“I’m-going to make sure I punish you for putting me in this mess.” He yelled.

“Damien I —“

“I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. We have to continue on foot. It’s better we walk down the bush path. That way, those men can’t find us.”

I nodded, following him behind. It was dark, and it made hard for me to see. Damien wasn’t bothered about the darkness. He kept walking quickly not sparing me a glance.

“Try to keep up!” He yelled without tilting his head to face me. “Snakes are rampant this time of the year.”

My eye widened at the sound of his words, and I picked up my steps. Damien and I kept walking and soon Damien sighted a mansion which looked old and worn out.

“The Gonzales mansion!” Damien exclaimed, his gaze fixated on the structure. His lips curled into an almost boyish grin. “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

I shifted uncomfortably beside him, wrapping my arms around myself. “It looks... haunted,” I muttered.

I didn’t expect Damien to hear me, but he did. He shot me a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised.

“I don’t care what you think. We’re staying here tonight,” he declared.

I sighed, reluctantly following him as he pushed open the door. The moment the door creaked open, a swarm of bats spilled out into the night air, their screeches echoing through the empty halls of the mansion. I instinctively ducked, letting out a small scream as they brushed past me.

Damien barely flinched. “Come on,” he said, already making his way inside. “Hugh would’ve loved to see this,” he remarked casually.

I trailed behind him, too afraid to be left alone in the dilapidated mansion. Every creak of the floorboards under my feet felt amplified, each shadow seemed to move, and my heart raced with every step.

Finally, Damien chose a room to settle in. It was surprisingly furnished, although the bed-frame cracked, and the wardrobe was crumbling.

Damien shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto the bed, and pulled his shirt over his head. My breath hitched. This was the first time I’d seen him shirtless, and his body was... captivating.

His defined muscles glowed under the moonlight, and I noticed a few scars on his back. He was sexy. Sexier than Aiden.

I stopped myself immediately as I started comparing him to Aiden. Aiden was a far better man, and Damien was a monster. A killer.

“Stop standing there and help me with this,” Damien snapped, pulling me out of my thoughts.

As I moved closer, I noticed the bullet wound on his biceps. The flesh was torn, blood dripping steadily onto the wooden floor. He had already removed the bullet himself.

He handed me a strip of his torn shirt, and I hesitated for a second before stepping closer.

“Fucking do what I told you to do.” He growled, and I nodded, wrapping the cloth around his arm. I tried to be as gentle as possible.

He winced as I tied the knot tightly. “Sorry,” I mumbled, genuinely feeling bad for causing him more pain.

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing at me. “This is your fault. Why are you apologizing?”

I had no response to that, so I kept silent. My hands shook slightly as I finished tying the fabric. Damien stepped away from me, his tall frame dominating the small room as he settled into the single chair near the window.

“You know this is a perfect place to punish you. No one is going to hear your screams.” He said, leaning forward, and a lump formed in my throat.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I froze for a moment, my heart pounding.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said, or do you want me to use this on you?” He gesture to his gun, and I moved toward him slowly.

“Take off your panties,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sandpaper, and I hesitated once again.

“Now,” he barked.

My hands trembled as I did what he said, sliding the fabric down my legs and letting it drop on the dusty floor.

“Good,” he said. Then he pointed at his lap. “Now, come here.”

I obeyed, bending across his lap as instructed. My entire body shook as I felt the cool air of the room against my exposed skin. I stared at the floor, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

Damien lifted the hem of my dress, exposing my bare backside.

“You’ve been very naughty, Alison,” he growled. “And what happens to naughty girls?”

I didn’t respond immediately. The words caught in my throat.

“What happens?” he repeated, his hand resting heavily on my lower back.

“They get punished,” I whispered.

“That’s right,” he murmured, almost mockingly. “I’m glad you’re aware.”

His hand came down hard on my bare skin. I yelped, the sting burning against my flesh.

Again and again, his hand struck, each slap harder than the last. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“You’re going to learn to stop disappointing me,” he growled. One of his hand moved towards my hair, yanking my head back as the other continued slapping my arse.

Suddenly, the slaps stopped. My sobs reduced, and I was confused.

His touch changed, his hand began to move in slow, gentle circles over the reddened skin of my backside.

Damien’s fingers brushed lightly over my skin, and a shiver ran down my spine. My body betrayed me, and I began to enjoy the feeling of his hands.

I hated him. I hated myself more for how my body responded to his touch.

His hands slowly spread my legs open, moving from my arse to my clit.

I let out a moan, and I felt him hardened beneath me. He didn’t stop; he glided his finger down my clit, rubbing it slowly as he widened my legs even more.

I moaned louder, stopping myself immediately as I did.

This was wrong! I told myself! Damien was my father’s murderer. I shouldn’t be enjoying this.

My thoughts stopped as Damien closed my legs tight, and with his fingers he began fucking me.

“Damien,” I moaned, and he grunted.

“Tell me to fuck you harder.” He demanded.

“Say it!!!” He yelled.

“Fuck me harder!” I said.

The movement of his fingers increased as he thrusted inside me. This was so much better than Aiden’s dick ever was.

“Damien!” I continued to scream in pleasure. Suddenly, Damien stopped.

“Fuck!” He yelled, pushing me off him and standing on his feet.

“Get some sleep!” He demanded before walking away. His eyes were filled with lust and something else—regret. He was about to leave the room when the sound of gunshots shattered the glass, stopping him midway.

“They found us!” He exclaimed, pulling out his gun.