Caged: The Underground - Page 10

He was merciless — just as I knew he would be — and I shuddered with wild need.

Blindly ravenous. Needing my juices as if they would keep him alive.

Jesus, I was being consumed by this hulking beast of a man and it was incredible.

“D-Damon…” his name exploded from my mouth, a stunned gasp. I was dying from the pleasure robbing my senses and rendering me stupid.

My bones had melted into the mattress, everything throbbed and pulsed with its own exquisite beat.

I heard the sound of his buckle coming off, followed by the slither of his jeans as they dropped to the floor, rousing me from my orgasm-induced coma.

Was he? Of course he was.

I focused my bleary vision and saw Damon, all that hard muscle and corded sinew, criss-crossed with scars, old and new, and then, saw his cock, jutting from a nest of curly dark hair.

My eyes widened as I came to my senses quickly.

“Wait…” I tried saying but he was on me again, this time when his mouth covered mine, I could taste my own flavor on his lips. I should’ve been disgusted but it aroused me even more.

The blunt head of his cock pressed against my wet center, prodding, searching, and I stiffened against the intrusion.

Think Charlie! Is this how you want to remember your first time?

I wanted my first time to be with someone I loved, cared for, and who felt the same about me.

Yeah, maybe it was old-fashioned and completely unrealistic but I wasn’t ready to let that illusion go. Not yet.

“Damon, please…stop! I’m a virgin!”

Time screeched to a halt as Damon heard me.

He blinked against the carnal haze. “A virgin? You mean…?” Flustered, he braced himself on his arms above me. “How…I mean…you’ve never?”

“Yes, as in I’ve never had sex,” I finished for him, blushing hard. I shifted and winced, my tied hands starting to lose blood flow. “Please…don’t force me to do this.”

“I’m not a fucking rapist,” Damon said but I wasn’t sure if he was saying it for my benefit or his.

Things had gotten out of control between us and neither of us knew how it’d happened.

But I couldn’t let him take my cherry.

“Fuck,” he groaned and pushed himself up, his cheeks flushed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

And then grabbed his jeans and belt, stalking from the room, leaving me there on the bed, with my panties on the floor and my arms still tied behind my back.

My heart thundered in my chest as tiny pulses of pleasure continued to echo through my nerve endings as I tried to process what’d just happened between us.

I think a handshake would’ve been far safer.

Definitely less fluid-y.

Well, hell.

Now what?

I sure as hell hoped that he didn’t think we were dating now.

Chapter 11

Damon

A fucking virgin?

I wiped at my mouth, still tasting Charlie on my lips. I won’t lie, it wasn’t a tragedy to have that sweet pussy scent lingering on my upper lip.

But fuck.

Was that why Davonte was so hot for the woman? A hot as fuck piece of ass like Charlie, untouched?

How was it possible?

Most girls in our circles lost their V card early, some as young as twelve.

I wasn’t into that but I knew it happened.

The cops couldn’t keep up with the shit that happened in the broken areas of Detroit.

Kids grew up fast because they had to when they lived beneath the poverty line.

Everything was for sale at some point.

So how in the sweet hell had Charlie managed to hold onto her cherry until now?

My cock ached but nothing was going to happen now.

Shit.

I shoved my hand through my hair, thoroughly agitated.

Right now, I was sitting on a powder keg of YOU’RE UP A CREEK and a fuckton of YOU’RE SCREWED.

So now what?

Well, I’d already crossed the line.

If Davonte wanted to kill me for punching him in the nose, he’ll want to tie my guts in a bow if he found out I’d just face planted in his most prized pussy.

I shifted against the flush of violence at the thought of anyone aside from me licking that tender meat and I knew I was fooling myself.

There was no way I could send her back.

I couldn’t explain it — maybe too many knocks to the head — but the facts were pretty damn obvious.

I wanted Charlie.

Did the reasons really matter?

I guess I was as bad as Davonte, wanting a woman who didn’t want me.

But unlike Davonte, I wasn’t going to force myself on her.

Not like that.

A kiss was one thing…taking a girl’s cherry was another all together.

That meant I’d better come up with a helluva Plan B for the both of us or we’d be sharing the same shallow grave.

I blew out a short breath, and once my dick had settled down, I returned to the bedroom, only to find Charlie on her belly, struggling to breathe.

Her pretty ass, plump and inviting.

There went my cock again.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered, striding to the bed to rescue her from suffocating. I scooped her up and sat her on the bed. “What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill yourself?”

Her face flushed from being face-down and she actually glowered at me as if I’d been the one to roll her over. “My arms were falling asleep! I was trying to take the pressure off, you idiot,” she hissed. “Untie me before I lose a hand.”

Time to get down to brass tacks. I pointedly ignored her bare legs and damp curls still on display but it wasn’t easy. “I’ll untie you but you gotta promise me no freaking out, you got it?”

“Just untie me.”

“Promise,” I repeated. I wasn’t stupid. “We need to talk and I don’t have time for your caterwaulin’.”

She blinked at me as if what I’d said was ludicrous but she agreed. “Fine. I promise. Just untie me, will you?”

I reached around her and quickly unknotted the telephone cord. She groaned and shook out her hands. I guess I had tied her up pretty tight.

“You okay?” I asked gruffly.

She ignored my question and scooped up her panties and pants, shoving past me to lock herself in the bathroom to dress.

I guess it made some sort of sense but I’d already seen the goods, so it was kinda moot, you know?

Still, it was a little cute that she was being so modest.

Well, if a screeching hellcat could be considered cute.

When she didn’t emerge in an appropriate time frame, I frowned and hollered, “Pinch it off. We got business to talk about.”

That got her to open the door. “You’re disgusting. I wasn’t…ugh…never mind.” She crossed her arms and glared. “Okay, talk.”

“You’re pretty bitchy for someone who just came as hard as they did. I thought that might soften your claws a little bit.”

She blushed to the roots of her red hair and if there’d been anything within reaching distance I probably would’ve been wearing it on my head.

But at least she’d shut up.

“This is how I see it…you’re right — I’m fucked. And now that I’ve…” I allowed my gaze to drop below her waist for emphasis “well, something tells me, I ain’t living this down. So, I guess we can team up and hope for the best, or we can go our separate ways and see who fares better. Your choice.”

“Oh, now you want to make a deal? That was my original plan, you fuckwit,” she retorted, her eyes flashing. “Obviously, working together is better than apart when we have a common enemy but then you were ready to package me up and deliver me like a Christmas turkey. I can’t trust you now.”

“Let’s be real…what made you think you could trust me before?”

I’d made a solid point.

She huffed a short b

reath, frustrated by her lack of options and my blunt question.

“Fine,” Charlie conceded, “maybe I was stupid to think I could trust you in the first place but that doesn’t exactly solve the dilemma, does it?”

“Let me make it simple for you…I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, but together we’re going to try and not die. How’s that sound?”

“Deceptively simple,” she said warily. “Which means it’s anything but.”

I leaned back on my elbows, observing.

People watching had always been a favorite of mine. But I could watch Charlie all day and still want more.

Everything about her was alive.

Was that part of her charm?

She still pulsed with life when others had been beaten down, their spirits squashed.

“Why are you still a virgin?”

Charlie stared, shocked at my bald question. “That’s none of your business,” she finally sputtered in answer.

“I’ve tasted you, babe,” I told her with a smile at the memory. “I can still taste you on my tongue. You’re delicious, by the way.”

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