damien the irresistible

00 | DAMIEN THE IRRESISTIBLE ©️

epigraph.

"Who will let me be the real animal of myself?"

by Jenny Slate in 'Little Weirds.'

—

excerpt.

(PLS stop commenting "damn straight into it" that's the point of an excerpt 😭😭)

»

Audrey folds her arms. "What the hell do you want now?"

Standing several feet away, he's a casual figure in the doorway, half-leaning and unblinking at her agitated tone. Rather than answer like a decent human being, his eyes drag down her visage with an obscene slowness, less contained than he had at first glance.

The curves and dips refined in his two-year absence, a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth; becoming full-blown when his amber pools return to her face. Like her body, he's drinking that in, too, and her pinched brows watch his pupils dilate into something dark.

Her stomach is a traitorous swarm of butterflies, wings edged in razors. She flickers her stare behind him like she isn't affected. "Is Dani done chewing you out like the jackass you are?" she goads because she just generally likes to, but also because his silence is unnerving. "And what's with that. . . that stupid look on your face?" There's no response, and she nearly shouts, "What the fuck do you want, Damien?!"

"I am glad so you asked." His smile is a blinding show of teeth, sharp and hungry. "What do I want?" His forward stride is long, cutting the distance in half, grinning when she subconsciously braces against the refrigerator. "You, of course. Preferably naked, bent over, makin' those cute little noises as I pound that tight—"

Shock is a hot ripple under her skin, flushing mortification to her face and arousal slick to her center. In that same instant, she lurches forward and slaps a hand over his mouth before he can finish that vulgar thought. With high paranoia, she checks her over his shoulder for his sister and her best friend. Thankfully, she—or, anyone else for that matter—isn't in the vicinity.

That only calms her racing heart a smidge. "You can't say stuff like that anymore!" she half-whispers, half-hisses, her hand loosening but still too paranoid to remove completely. A few silhouettes pass by but none show interest in the space.

Damien rolls his eyes. "Is that right?"

Before she can consider the rhetoric, he's wrenched her arm to his chest and herding her backward. The refrigerator rattles with the collision, pinning her there between the cold surface and the warm mold of his body.

His hand snakes along her throat, rough fingers spread beneath her jawline, and angles her chin upwards until that particular spot is bared, and his eyes are piercing hers. Not an inch between them now, those rivets of chocolate swirling in gold are just as captivating as they were years ago as they are now.

"Does that mean. . ." he enunciates purposely slow, keen on the way her gaze flickers the formation of his lips, ". . . I can't do this?"

With his viper-like quickness, his face ducks down and he strikes the vulnerable flesh of her pulse, teeth sinking in and sucking all at once. It's a bastard of a move—shouldn't be that surprising considering he's a bastard—because it's her erogenous weakness, and he fucking knows it, better than anyone else ever can.