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Chapter 35 Eden
“Which dress do you like better?”
Geoffrey looks at the ceiling. “You look great in both. Please pick one before you’re late and Damien blames me for your tardiness.”
I twist my hair up. “What should I do with my hair?”
I shouldn’t enjoy ruffling his feathers so much, but he makes it too easy.
“It’s lovely,” he says tersely. “Now please, take off your clothes—” My eyes widen, and he catches himself. “My apologies, miss.”
Geoffrey is way too polite for his own good. “You don’t have to apologize.”
I look up at the same time Damien enters the room. I expect him to join our little convo, but he hangs in the background, observing the exchange.
It’s a good thing Geoffrey’s back is to him because he’d probably shit his pants.
I decide to have a little fun. Damien can consider it payback for yesterday.
“On second thought. I hate this dress. Let’s go with the dark blue one.”
Geoffrey’s lips form a tight line. “Of course.”
I bat my lashes. “Would you mind helping me out? The zipper on this one is tricky. It always gets stuck right above my butt.”
Damien’s eyes darken...but there’s also a hint of a challenge burning in those baby blues.
One I won’t back down from.
Geoffrey’s throat bobs as I turn around. “As you wish.”
His fingers shake as he clasps the zipper. I bite my lip. He’s positively adorable.
“Do you ever go out and date?”
He freezes. “Damien grants me rest hours and permission to leave the grounds.”
That was the most proper response to a casual question I’ve ever heard.
He finishes dragging my zipper down. “May I ask what your sudden interest in my personal life is?”
I slip my arms through the holes and face him. “Just wanted to make sure you were allowed to have fun.”
“Well, thank you for your concern but—Oh, my.”
Geoffrey turns ten different shades of red as he zeroes in on my bare breasts.
Damien crosses his arms over his chest, and I flash him a smile. Geoffrey doesn’t notice the exchange though because his eyes are still focused elsewhere.
“Gorgeous,” Geoffrey whispers under his breath. “So perk—”
Behind him, Damien clears his throat.
Geoffrey bolts upright. “My apologies, sir. It shan’t happen again.”
Before I can blink, he sprints out the door like his ass is on fire.
“Cute,” Damien muses as I slip the dress back on. “However, your little stunt almost gave my servant a heart attack.”
“He works hard.” I motion for him to help me with the zipper. “Just wanted to make sure the poor guy didn’t go through life without ever seeing a pair of tits.”
My zipper goes up with ease. “Geoffrey’s been living with me for years. He’s seen plenty. Trust me.”
Touché, Mr. King.
“Is that so?”
Pushing my hair out of the way, he kisses my shoulder. “Someone sounds jealous.” His teeth sink into my skin. “I told you, if you want something…claim it.”
I run my hand over his length through his pants. “I already have.” My nipples pucker when it thickens under my touch. “But I might be willing to share this part…on special occasions.”
“You don’t have to do or share anything you don’t want to, Eden.”
“I know. But I won’t know I don’t want to do something until I try it.” The green-eyed monster rears its head again when I think about the maid. “I can’t watch another woman fuck you, though. Hard limit. However, she’d be welcome to watch me fuck you.”
His breath tickles my ear. “Can I watch her pleasure the queen after?” His palm slides over my breast. “Demonstrate her gratitude for the sexy show you gave her?”
I suck in a breath. Damien has a way of making everything sound appealing. “That might be fun.”
His hand slithers down my torso. “It doesn’t have to happen. Just talking about it with you makes my dick hard.”
I start to smile…but then a horrifying thought hits me.
“What if I hate something you like? What happens then?”
It’s no secret Damien’s light years ahead of me when it comes to…well, pretty much everything. He’s also not turned off by anything. All of it gets a green light from him…while I’m still exploring what I’m into.
“We don’t do it.” His fingers dip into the band of my panties. “My sexuality doesn’t own or control me. I own and control it. If the person I want to fuck isn’t into something, we switch gears and go a different route. This way, we both have fun and get off.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out if I ever draw a line in the sand.”
If we’re go
My eyes flutter closed when he rubs my clit. “How can I be missing out when I have this?” He kneads my ass with his other hand. “And this.” He sticks the finger he was touching me with in my mouth, making me taste myself. “This is nice, too.”
“If we keep this up, we’re go
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls. “I’d much rather eat you.”
“As soon as we get home, you can.” I pat his dick. “Good boys get rewarded.”
With a grin, he tugs down his zipper. “I’ve never been a good boy.” My pulse skitters as he bends me over the dresser and guides the wide head of his cock through my slickness. “It’s way more fun being bad.”
Cain: Sit next to me during di
I knew the evening would suck the moment I received the text from Cain. So did Damien.
And suck it does. Being anywhere near Cain makes my skin crawl.
It’s a complete one-eighty from almost two weeks ago…when he was my everything and the highlight of my day was spending time with him.
Shame coils my insides. There’s a very small part of me—way deep down—that misses Cain. I’m having a hard time digesting it though because I also fucking hate him. So much so, there’s a distinct possibility I’m going to stab his eye with my fork if he touches my knee again.
Deep breaths, sister. You’ve got this.
Damien said it’s normal for me to be experiencing an array of emotions at this stage. He compared it to grieving, because even though Cain is very much alive—I still lost someone I loved.
In a weird way, it makes sense.
Luckily, I only have to play the part of his mistress for another twenty-four hours.
I’ve purposely avoided drinking any liquids during this di
Although it might be preferable to hearing Margaret drone on and on about her upcoming wedding.
Pick a topic. Any topic, gentlemen.
Unfortunately, what they all want to talk about is politics, but that’s considered poor form at a charity di
“So, I was thinking we can hold the cocktail hour—”
“What’s your opinion on the new legislation that’s being proposed?”
Rules were made to be broken.
Eight sets of eyes wake from the dead.
“Which one?” Governor Bexley asks.
I have no idea. “The one regarding taxes.”
It’s America. Taxes are a big deal to these big wigs.
Margaret huffs out a breath. “It’s uncouth to talk about politics at a charity di