Chapter 11: Her Art of Gentle Deception

Chapter 11 - Her Art of Gentle Deception –Livana– I'm treated like a doll — no, like a Queen. A Goddess. Damon cleans every inch of me after we do those carnal acts. His hands are rough, yet reverent, almost worshipful. Maybe... maybe I liked the sex. His touch, the way he made sure I reached every bliss I deserved — he was thorough, relentless in learning me. He wanted to know every part of me. He wanted to hear every gasp, every broken moan torn from my throat. I think he loved it the most when I couldn't hold back. Every sound I made seemed to feed his hunger. Maybe I should make more noise next time — drive him mad. "Put lotion on my body," I commanded, my voice low. He didn't even hesitate. I could practically feel his eagerness in the air. I imagined the bright, stupid grin on his face as he settled behind me, his calloused hands suddenly soft against my skin as he lathered me with something thick and perfumed. I felt him pause — fingers lingering at the curve of my navel, teasing dangerously close to the bikini bottoms he insisted I wear. His hands said what his mouth didn't. "This is... kinda not good in my eyes, don't you think?" Damien's voice drifted lazily nearby. He was talking to Laura — I could tell by the casual tension between their words. "Oh, please," Laura drawled. "We always see them flirting back at school." Flirting? I nearly scoffed. I wasn't flirting with Damon. But... I remembered. We had gone out once — to get rid of some desperate suitor. Then there was the prank — the one where his jealous girlfriend shoved me into the pool. I almost drowned. Damon saved me. He knew CPR. A soft, warm pressure against the crook of my neck jolted me back. His lips. Damon. "Are you done?" I asked, feigning indifference even as my skin burned where he touched me. "Nope." His breath was a sigh against my throat. "Let's go back to our room." I stood up abruptly, pushing him away with a hand to his chest. "Laura, I want to enjoy the jacuzzi — the one you were talking about." "Yeah, sure," she replied lightly. I waited as Laura guided me carefully. Every step felt treacherous. I wasn't familiar with the place; every sound and every shift of air was new and dangerous. The chance of me getting hurt was one hundred percent. I slipped into the water, gasping at the initial cold before settling into the bubbling warmth. I leaned back, allowing the currents to massage me, to steal away the tension coiling inside me. "Do you need anything? A drink, or—" Laura offered. "Water," I said simply. I felt a wave next to me — Damon. His presence was unmistakable. He slid close, one arm stretching behind me, possessive without words. His fingers brushed lightly over my back — over the ties of my bikini. "We can swim later... in the ocean," he murmured, his voice thick with suggestion. His fingers tugged lightly at the strings. "Or... we could just go back to the room and make love." "No," I said smoothly, raising my hand, meaning to place it against his chest — but instead, I caught something else. His hard length strained against the fabric. I didn't pull away. I knew what kind of power I held over him. Damon was obsessed with me. And maybe... maybe I wanted to drive him insane. "Hold your gun, alright?" I teased, voice low and dangerous. "Yes, my Goddess," he growled, voice hoarse with restraint. I traced my hand to his thigh, feeling the muscle flex beneath my touch. He stayed very still, the tension between us crackling like fire. "Here's your water." Laura tapped my shoulder, breaking the spell for a moment. I reached out — but before I could grab the bottle, Damon snatched it. Instead, he placed my right hand back on his thigh, just as I heard the soft twist of the bottle cap. "Open your mouth," he ordered. I parted my lips slightly. A straw touched my tongue, and I drank — cool, sweet water with a faint taste of coconut. I leaned back against him, surrendering to the moment. Then a soft vibration at his side — his phone. "Yes?" Damon answered, voice low and deliciously deep. I could feel him still pressed against me as he spoke. "Creighton? Oh, they're looking for Livana?" He sounded innocent — but I knew better. His smirk vibrated through the air between us. His hand slid, deliberately guiding mine again, pressing it close against his thick hardness, hidden only by thin fabric. "I don't care about them, Mother," he said casually. I could hear his mother's voice — tinny and persistent — mentioning names, old enemies. Tyrona. The same girl who used to torment me back in high school. "You haven't called Tyrona," his mother said. "Why should I?" His voice was flat, dead. Uninterested. I flinched as he used my hand to stroke his bulge. A flash of disgust rolled through me. I yanked my hand away sharply, breathing hard, feeling my chest tighten. I wasn't his toy. Not yet, anyway. –Damon– It seems the Creightons are scrambling to drag Livana back home for their precious little wedding. Too bad for them—I already claimed her. She's mine, and no one will ever take her away. After dinner, I led Livana down to the beach, our little slice of stolen paradise. The chopper that had been circling earlier finally disappeared, leaving us blessedly alone. My breath caught when I saw her—she was wearing the tiniest bikini I had ever seen, barely covering her. Just enough to shield her nipples. Just enough to hide that sweet, forbidden place between her thighs. She was sin incarnate, walking so gracefully across the sand like she belonged to the ocean, the stars, and me. Especially me. I walked behind her, taking in every perfect curve, every sway of her hips, my gaze devouring the sight of her full, beautiful butt cheeks. God, the things I wanted to do to her... it should've been illegal to look that perfect. I'm not a religious man, but for Livana? I'd build her an altar and worship her for the rest of my damn life. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Tyrona's name flashed across the screen, but I didn't even think about answering. I switched it off and tossed it onto the bench with our towels. Nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered right now except Livana. I caught up to her, letting my fingers trace along the delicate string nestled between her cheeks. My voice was low, rough with all the need and love I felt for her. "You know, babe, I was thinking... after you show up at your wedding and completely wreck it, maybe it's time our families met." She turned her head slightly, her lips curving in that wicked way that always drove me crazy. "And start a war?" she asked. I grinned. The idea of it—burning everything down just to keep her—didn't scare me at all. "Maybe I should take you to meet my family first," I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek, my fingers still playing with the barely-there strings of her bikini. My Goddess. My everything. "Your family is insane," she said, her voice soft but teasing. "By the way, your family's looking for you like crazy," I added, brushing my nose against her temple. "Even after Laura told them you two are in Bali." "They're just after my money and the company," she muttered, pressing herself even closer to me. "Especially my aunt. She's obsessed with power. But I don't give a damn. I already have what I want. You." Yeah. She could sweet-talk me like that all day. "Hmm, why not destroy that company?" I suggested, watching the sly smirk that curled her lips. "I was thinking the same thing." God, she's perfect. Ruthless and sweet, all wrapped up in a body I would kill for. I grabbed her hand and led her into the water, pulling her deeper until the cool waves kissed our skin. When she hesitated, I lifted her easily against me. Her arms wrapped tight around my neck, her body pressing close, right where she belonged. "Your ideas are... unique," She murmured, grinning as she teased her fingers across my shoulders and up my neck. I stared at her lips, parted slightly, so temptingly close. I pulled back, just a little, teasing her, loving the frustrated sound she made. Then she surprised me. God, she shocked me. She grabbed the back of my hair, hard, and leaned in. Her kiss landed on my cheek first—soft, claiming. I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt her tongue trace down my neck. I gasped. Livana—my Livana—was playing dirty. I growled low in my throat, grabbing her hand and yanking her even tighter against me. Her legs wrapped around my waist and I crushed my mouth to hers. Our kiss was savage, desperate, a battle neither of us wanted to win. Our bodies locked together, sinking into each other under the cover of the night, the ocean, and the fire that only she could ignite in me. And I knew, without a doubt, I would never, ever let her go.