A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses 1)

A low rumbling growl vibrates through Damien’s chest, and I feel every movement on my palms, as I lower them from his neck, feeling his hot flesh under my touch.

When he finally breaks the kiss, I’m breathless. The pulse between my legs is thrumming wildly, needing more, wanting him to do so much more, but he steps back, finally releasing me from his hold that I know will leave bruises.

“That is the first and last time.” His words are void of any emotion, cold and aloof. His eyes change color before my gaze, from the darker shade to the usual glass-like blue that they always are.

He pushes by me, into his bedroom, and shuts the door behind him with a resounding thud. I’m still trying to catch my breath, trying to not fall to the ground. My knees are wobbly, as I make my way across the hall to my own bedroom that beckons with safety.

There’s no use denying I crave him. It’s fierce and hot. Even though my lips are still tingling from the contact with his, I can’t stop wondering just what pain he’s hiding deep inside.

I lean against the closed door, needing to collect my myriad of thoughts that are only of him. My panties are wet, but my heart aches at his promise, this is the first and the last time. There’s darkness that follows Damien, pain he hides so well, and it felt like he was pouring all his agony into me with a single, heart-stopping, all-consuming kiss.

As forbidden as it is, I want another one. I want so many more breath-stealing kisses. Shaking my head, I make my way into the bathroom and pull out the box. For a long time, it’s been my only solace in this world of judgments and ridicule because I’m not like everyone else. Not like my mother. I struggle to vocalize my emotions, what I’m feeling in the depths of my soul, and over the years, this has been the escape. It’s been the answer I wanted and needed.

Cutting has been my screaming admission as to how I’m feeling. It’s been an outlet of all those emotions that bubbled inside me, struggling to be set free. But only I could hear.

The shiny metal inside that reminds me I can breathe, when it steals my anxiousness and leaves me calm and serene. But the moment I flick open the lid and pick up the blade, I find myself consumed by thoughts of him. Instead of wanting to release the pent-up frustration, I find myself on the mattress, moments later, with my hand between my legs, as I replay the kiss in my mind.

It doesn’t make sense that Damien’s presence is so strong in my mind. I want to think about the tumultuous emotions I’m feeling, to ponder why he’s affected me so much, but I can’t think of anything but the warmth of his tongue, how his lips molded against mine.

I’ve never allowed myself to feel like this about anyone before. And as lust courses in my veins, I realize it’s no longer pain that I seek out for release, it’s pleasure. My eyes prick with tears when I realize Damien has fully consumed me, and I don’t know how long it will last.

But I allow the moment to replay in my mind. It’s as if it’s a movie on a loop, and I can’t stop it. My fingers dance over my slick entrance, and I call out his name as I find my orgasm racing through me. My limbs tremble, my body shudders, and I’m utterly consumed by him. The image of him in those low-slung sweatpants, the feel of his hardness against me. Everything about Damien Thorne is dangerous, but what he doesn’t know is that I love danger. I love to do things I’m not meant to.

My body suddenly shakes, and I cry out as I leap over the edge of pleasure, leaving the pain behind while the tightening in my chest eases, and the usual anxiety releases me from its feral grip. And it’s all because of him. Not a blade. Not the blood. No longer a cut.

And as I roll over on the bed, I cry because confusion has taken hold of me. I’m tipping over, falling, and I’m scared. So, fucking scared.

Even though he promised that would be the last time, I wonder if he was trying to convince me or himself. Deep down, I pray that his restraint isn’t as strong as he makes it out to be, because I do want more.

15

Damien

The sun is rising just above the trees. I’m not focused on the beautiful scenery, though; I’m thinking about Nesrin. I shouldn’t have kissed her at the party, but I couldn’t stop myself. It’s been a handful of hours, and I can’t stop replaying the moment in my mind.