Chapter 31: (R18)When Friends Cross the Line

Chapter 31: (R18)When Friends Cross the Line – Laura – I watched as my sister calmly spoke on the phone again. Her tone was serene, composed—like always. This time, it was her right-hand man she was talking to. She hung up and, without missing a beat, turned toward Damon like she knew exactly where he stood. "Who fired the gun?" she asked. "Agent Clinton. There was a trespasser." "Did you report it to the police?" "There’s no need for that, my love. I had it handled," Damon replied smoothly. I frowned, catching the tense glance Damien shot me as he opened the balcony door. "It’s all under control now," Damon said as he stepped out and pulled back the curtain slightly. "They handled it well." I followed him, peeking past the edge of the drapes. My heart stopped when I saw a man being dragged across the grass, limp and lifeless. "What the fuck?" I hissed, my voice sharp and low. "Did you just kill someone?" "He’s not dead," Damon said, calm as ever. "He was shot in the leg. We also hit him with a tranquilizer." I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "How and why?" "He was a spy. We suspect he used to work here—planted by Braxton." "That was the guy Aunt Casey sent," Livana chimed in from behind. "Let’s just get some sleep, okay?" Damien tugged gently at my wrist. "Come on." Still stunned, I let Damien lead me back to my room. He casually tossed a bubble bomb into the hot tub, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus filling the space. "Hey," I said, raising a brow, "you threw in the wrong one." "It’s all the same," he replied, undressing casually. I was about to step into the tub when he beat me to it. I glared. "What?" he said, smirking. "I thought we were sharing." "Whatever." I climbed in, deliberately settling at the opposite end. Then, I kicked at his side, half playful, half annoyed. He caught my foot, holding it with a grip that lingered a second too long. With a press of a button, he switched the TV to a low-budget remake of Game of Thrones. The acting was awful—laughably so. "Oh, come on," I groaned. "That guy’s supposed to be a eunuch. He shouldn’t even have a dick." "Shhh," he hushed me, eyes on the screen. "I’m focusing." I rolled my eyes and turned to grab a snack, only to gasp when his arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back against his chest. His body was firm—solid—and unmistakably warm. "We had an agreement, Laura," he murmured, his voice low and husky against my ear. My breath hitched. A jolt shot through me as my nipples tightened beneath the water. What the hell? That only happens when— I froze. I could feel...something. Long. Hard. Pressed against the small of my back. Oh, no. Oh, hell no. I turned to look at him, but he just smirked, brushing his fingers along my jaw as if daring me to move. I smacked his chest, my gaze involuntarily dropping to the outline beneath his shorts. "We’re not doing this," I said firmly. But he didn’t answer. Instead, he got up, walked to my charging station, and grabbed that device—the one I kept hidden. A clitoral sucker. My best one. "What the hell are you doing?" I hissed. Damien didn’t flinch. He sat down at the edge of the tub, feet in the water, and pulled me gently onto his lap. His hand tilted my chin toward the TV. "Damien, this is not okay." "And it’s not okay to keep teasing me every damn day. I’m a man, Laura. And you’re always in heat." I bit my lower lip, trembling as I reached for his hand and guided it to my breast. His fingers wrapped around it, squeezing gently. I shuddered as he slid the thin strap of my bikini aside, his other hand slipping into my bottoms. "You make me fucking crazy," he breathed. "Let’s stop pretending." I didn’t respond. I just leaned into him, dizzy from the weight of it all, as he turned on the toy and placed it—playfully—on my nipple. The sensation made me arch against him, electricity pulsing through my core. Damien knew exactly what he was doing. No surprise, really—he’d told me enough stories. Bragged, even. One-night stands. Escorts. He used to say experimenting with women was just him "training" to please his future wife. But I wasn’t his future wife. I was just the horny best friend who never had a man. "I’ve been dreaming of this," he murmured, nibbling my earlobe. "Let’s try your favorite setting." I nudged him, nervous, but he only smirked and eased me to the floor. The foam still clung to my skin as he kissed my knees, then turned on the shower to rinse us both off. His lips met mine—slow, intense—and then he stared at my chest like he’d never seen a naked woman before. "What? First time seeing boobs?" I teased, cheeks flushed. He laughed—genuinely—and kissed each nipple softly. Then, in one motion, he tore my bikini bottoms. "That was expensive," I muttered. "You won’t need it anymore." He stared at my bare folds. His eyes widened, impressed, maybe even surprised. "Wow." Before I could protest, his mouth was on me. I gasped, my body arching, trying to process the hum of his voice as he devoured me. I barely lasted a minute. My orgasm hit like a wave, crashing and unexpected, and I let myself melt into the tile floor. "Beautiful," he whispered, but then pulled away. I sat up, dazed. Was that it? Then I saw him picking up my lube. His erection was impossible to miss now, straining against his shorts. Curious, I reached for his waistband and tugged the string loose. "Oh, someone’s curious," he teased. "You’re about to unwrap a gift, Laura." I scoffed—but when the tip emerged, I gaped. It was... big. Thick. Way bigger than anything I’d used. "There’s no way I’m taking that," I said. "You are." He grinned like a devil. "I’ve been waiting too long for this." He lubed up, then pulled me closer. "This is now or never." "I guess..." I swallowed. "It’s going to fucking hurt. I’ve never had anything that big." He pressed his shaft against me, sliding it over my slick entrance. "Relax." He slipped two fingers in to stretch me, gently scissoring. "You might want to lie down." "No. I want to watch." He tried again. I held my breath. "Just put it in. Deep and hard." "That’s not how it works," he chuckled, amused. "You’ll break." "Just get it over with!" I snapped. He shrugged, then held me tight as he pushed in—slow, steady, deep. I whimpered, my walls stretching around him. "Fuck! That hurts!" "You’re so fucking tight," he growled. "You haven’t even fingered yourself properly." I smacked his arm, but he pinned me down, kissing my breasts while he slowly thrust in. The pain dulled, replaced by something else. Something hot. Addictive. I was dizzy—completely undone after that tidal wave of release. My body trembled, oversensitive and spent. I’d seen it in those parody porn flicks—the women who squirted uncontrollably. And now, here I was, mirroring them. And not just once. He came inside me, which sent a flash of worry through my foggy brain... but it quickly faded. No big deal—I had an after-pill in my drawer. I rolled to my side, trying to catch my breath and get up, but Damien pulled me back into his arms, holding me with that smug grin he always wore when he knew he had the upper hand. "I know you’re not satisfied yet," he said. "No..." I started to protest, but it was weak and half-hearted. He ignored it entirely, refilling the jacuzzi with warm, soothing water. He carried me over his lap like I weighed nothing, lowering us both in as steam curled around us. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Again. He reached for the waterproof vibrator—smooth, soft silicone—and without warning, brushed it lightly over my nipples. I gasped, whipping my head toward him, and he met me with a hungry kiss. Our mouths collided, tongues battling as the toy began its descent down my body. By the time it reached my clit, I was already breathless. The gentle hum of vibration teased the most sensitive part of me, and my hips jerked without permission. "Damien—" I moaned, the word caught in the back of my throat. He held me tighter, one hand pinching my nipple while the other expertly moved the vibrator in tight, perfect circles below. I bucked over his lap, my body no longer mine. I felt the rush building again, impossible to stop. Then it happened—another intense wave, and I squirted once more, trembling as my vision blurred. Through the haze, I noticed his release swirling faintly in the water—like a secret shared between us. "Again?" he asked, almost surprised. I nodded, breathless. I wasn’t done. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I was fully spent—until there was nothing left in me but relief and bliss. The warmth of the water helped calm the overstimulation, but I stayed curled against him. He gently patted between my thighs like he was congratulating it—like my body had done something magnificent. I let out a short laugh. He was ridiculous. And yet... epic. "I regret not doing this sooner," I murmured. "Since the first time I started getting... well, horny." He burst out laughing, head thrown back like I’d just told the best joke of his life. We ended up watching more explicit scenes on the screen—raw, real, graphic—and weirdly, it didn’t feel awkward anymore. Just... right. When he dried me off afterward and carried me to bed, I didn’t resist. This time, I asked him to take me from behind. And God... he did. I never expected Damien to be this good. I thought he was all jokes and swagger. But he knew what he was doing. He knew what I needed. Finally, I had a boy toy. A real, physical one. And damn, he was mine.