3
Damien
Anyone that knows me will tell you I’m not much of a talker. I don’t talk for the sake of talking. I loathe small talk. I keep to myself, and I enjoy my own company. I trust only myself. I have one good friend—Jaxson who knows everything about me, and that’s it.
I don’t allow people into my life. So, here I am, at four in the morning, driving this preppy little princess to my farmhouse way out of the city. Poor girl. She thinks we’re going to have sex if her flirty eyes and seductive smiles are anything to go by, but little does she know I don’t shit where I eat. I don’t mix business with pleasure.
She is fire, smooth caramel skin, her body perfectly proportioned for her five-foot-six frame: small waist and curvy hips with a sinful ass that begs to be spanked. I’ve had my share of beautiful women, but Ezra Quintero, her beauty is dazzling, and I might find my limits tested with this one—especially in that skimpy red number she’s currently wearing. Any other night, I would have given her the fuck of her life, and she wouldn’t be walking straight for days, but she’s off-limits—even if she is gagging for it.
I shift in my seat and keep reminding myself that she’s just another job. Eyes on the fucking road, Damien. My eyes listen to no reason when they defy me, and sneak looks at her perfectly sculpted legs. Excellent, fucking raging hard-on. Wicked images of her legs in the air while I drive my cock deep inside her inhabit my mind, and my cock aches, straining against my jeans.
* * *
Finally,we pull up at the farmhouse, and I kill the engine. “Um, you live on a farm?” Ezra asks, looking around warily before turning to look at me again. I can see the alarm in her eyes. She’s hesitant and is questioning her choices.
“Only when I want some privacy.” I meet her gaze, reach over, and brush my thumb along her jaw. Ezra relaxes noticeably at my touch. It took every bit of willpower not to lean in and taste those lips, especially with the way she was licking them enticingly. “Let’s go inside.” I pull away, and she nods. I step out of the car and wait as she walks toward the house.
“It’s gorgeous. Do you bring all your hookups back here?” She asks curiously, looking up at the house as we walk up the driveway toward the front door.
I purchased this place a couple of years ago and modernized it. It was old, and in need of serious work, so I got it cheap. I use it when I need some time away from the city. It’s inaccessible, built on private land, six thousand, four hundred and ten feet—the outside, a dark gray, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows.
There’s a beautiful lake around the back and a stable. I haven’t gotten round to buying a horse just yet—but eventually, I will. It’s quiet, and there’s no one around for at least twenty miles. I figure this would be the best place to keep Ezra; no one will find her here, and if she tries to run, there is nowhere to go.
“No,” I unlock the door and walk in, I flick the switch, and the lights come on. “You’re the only other person besides me to come here.” She walks in and smiles up at me flirtatiously as she passes by.
“Well, I must be special then.” Ezra purrs, looking around the house in awe. “Wow, Damien, this place is stunning. It’s very chic and modern for a farmhouse.” She looks around the living room area, a large ivory L shape sofa in the center of the room, a fireplace, and a fifty-five-inch LCD, white walls, and wooden floors. A through lounge with the kitchen overlooking the living room. A massive glass door on the left and two windows on the right-side wall. A staircase right behind the fireplace leading to the second floor.
I follow her through the house as she walks through the kitchen. Running her fingers along the island in the center of the kitchen. “Would you like another drink?” I ask her, walking over to the bar in the corner of the living room.
“Sure,” Ezra follows me back into the living room and leans against the wall. I pick up the glasses of whiskey and walk over to her.
“Whiskey okay?” She nods and takes the drink from me, our fingers brushing at the exchange. A subtle touch, but it sent a mass of tingles straight to my cock, especially when it’s paired with those blue eyes peering up at me, radiating such desire. “Drink up.”
“Are you always this authoritative?” She queries, sipping her whiskey while I stare at her and say nothing. She shifts uneasily under my gaze. I just knock back my drink; she does the same. I take the glass from her and set it on the side.
It seems the whiskey helped rid her nerves because she took a step close to me. “Not much of a talker. Let’s see if you’re more an action kind of man.” She reaches up to place her hands on my chest, and I grab her wrists before they get close. Ezra gasps, and I tug her roughly against me and squeeze her wrists just enough to leave a nice red mark behind.
“I don’t like to be touched.” Ezra cocks her head to the side and regards me carefully for a moment.
“How do you make love if you don’t like to be touched?” Her eyes are on my lips and then on mine again. I smirk despite my best effort not to. Make Love? She must be joking.
“If love is what you’re after, I assure you, you’re in the wrong place and with the wrong man, sweetheart.” Her eyes narrow for a fleeting second, and she bites her bottom lip. “Do I look like the type of man that makes love?” Her lips part, her eyes go wide as she stares up at me in bewilderment and gulps. “Hard and dirty is more my style.” I let go of her arms, and they fall to her sides again, but she doesn’t make a move or step back.
Ezra stands routed, her chest rising and falling with each quick breath she took. “Judging by the startled look on your face, I’m going to assume you’ve never been fucked hard and deep.” She wordlessly shakes her head.
I see a flash of fear and hesitation in her eyes, and I sigh. Fucking hell. I was wrong about her. She may look like a fucking sex goddess, but she was inexperienced.
Untouched.
The confidence she had before now gone and nowhere to be seen. I reach up and brush my thumb gently across her bottom lip. Her eyes close, and she visibly quivers. “You’ve not been touched full stop.” Ezra nods slowly. I study her face and bite back the growl when her tongue darts out, and she licks my thumb, her eyes wide and staring up at me. It was my turn to swallow hard. Fuck. “Why now, Ezra.”
Ezra shrugs. “I want my first time to be good, memorable, and you strike me as the type that has the experience to make that happen.” Oh, baby, I was. I would fuck you so good you’d be crying for days.
I grasp her jaw between my thumb and forefinger and lift her eyes to mine. “While you’re right with your judgment, your tight virgin pussy can’t handle what I’ll be serving, Princess,” I tell her matter-of-factly, and she pulls her face from my grasp and glares at me. “I don’t do sweet and gentle.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle. You don’t know me.”
“Is that right?” I lean in close, so close, her lips are a breath away from mine. “Have you ever been touched, Ezra?”