Lost In London

⓱

"Damien..." I whispered.

He brought his lips back onto mine ever so strongly and pulled away to look at me.

"What is it Cara?"

I want to trap him. I want to torture him with my presence every moment on from now. He will never not be thinking of me.

"What difference does it make if I stay here?"

I could feel him sliding the rest of my clothing of away until my body was bare, exposed only to him. Very soon he took off his own clothes to which I saw him in all his twisted glory.

Needless to say, he's impressive.

Out of nowhere he had a condom in his hand which suddenly was put on himself.

Just for a little while, he looked back at me with some seriousness.

"You make all the difference."

I wanted to be frustrated, but he had already grabbed hold of my thighs pulling them apart. My cheeks blushed a wild red of letting see all of me.

I closed them again though, and asked, "But what for?"

He grew a little impatient. The hunger in him was growing. I sat up and pulled his face into my palms again.

"If you want in, you're going to have to open up yourself," I whispered. I placed some kisses on his cheek and back to his lips.

"Cara..." He looked conflicted.

"What do you want from them that you need me for?"

I laid kisses down on him some more, and he tried so hard to resist but he couldn't.

"A trade."

I scooted up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He was telling me things, and I felt so in control.

"For what?"

"For more money than you can imagine, but it's not just that..." he broke away.

"Tell me," I breathed. I took his palms and placed them on my breasts and squeezed them for him.

"Goddammit, Cara," he admitted angrily, "I can't tell you everything."

He went back in for a kiss, but I turned away. I let go him and threw his hands off of me.

"Cara-"

"-then the answer is 'no'," I said angrily. "You don't have my consent."

As I slid off the counter, I tried to reach for my clothes only to have Damien pull me back into his arms.

"Cara please."

The sound of him pleading was music to my ears, but I could feel him touching me again. This time I could feel his fingers exploring my most sacred spot and the moans that escaped me surprised me more than it did him.

He planted kisses along my neck and I let him.

"Do you feel that Cara?"

I let out more breaths of pleasure.

"Answer me."

"Yes..." I let out.

"You want me just as much as I want you."

Was he right? Is he trying to manipulate me? I already know that he wants me to stay. He just wants to trade me off in the end.

There really is no point then.

"If I was lying, you'd be screaming at the top of your lungs for help. You'd be begging me to stop. You got what you wanted from me Cara."

My heart pounded as I panicked.

"I would have told you if you had just tried to ask me anyways," he muttered.

Prick.

I spun around on my heels and swung my fist as fast as I could, but he caught it.

"Don't try that with me, love," he said sternly. The expression of irritation on his face slowly turned soft. "And don't give me that look."

"I am not your toy," I spat.

Once again, I reached for my clothes -- successfully this time -- and dressed myself as I made my way out.

He muttered something underneath his breath that I was barely able to catch, but then again, what difference would it make?

"You think you're a toy Cara, but what if it didn't have to be like this?"

But it is like this.