Chapter 5

The vacation house sat tucked behind tall black gates, lights glowing softly through high glass windows. Secluded. Quiet. Hidden from the world - just like whoever waited inside.

Elena stepped out of the car, heels clicking on the stone driveway. The air smelled like night jasmine and money.

The front door opened before she could knock.

He stood there-tall, smooth, devilish-in - black slacks and an open shirt. No tie. No jacket. Just sin in skin.

Damien Reeve.

Her husband's best friend.

The man who watched her cum with another woman... and liked it.

"Mrs. Voss," he said, voice rich and deep.

She raised a brow. "You've seen me naked and are still calling me that?"

Damien smiled slowly. "I like the contrast."

She walked past him into the house, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a promise.

Leather, smoke, something darker.

The inside was nice. Dark floors. Cream walls. Soft music is playing in the background. A single drink was already poured on the counter.

"You expected me to come?"

"I knew you would." He shut the door behind her. "Curiosity's a powerful thing."

"And you think I'm curious?"

He took a slow step forward. "Aren't you?"

She held his gaze, then reached for the drink and took a sip. Cool. Sweet. Dangerous.

He moved closer. "When did you start letting girls taste you, Elena?"

She smiled. "When did you start watching a married woman fuck?"

"When I started thinking about fucking my best friend's wife."

She paused. "How long have you been thinking about it?"

Damien stepped into her space, fingers brushing the curve of her waist.

"Since that night at his fundraiser... Red dress. No bra. And your nipples got hard every time I looked at you."

Elena's lips parted, breath catching just slightly.

He leaned in, voice low. "You don't even like Leonard, do you?"

She smirked. "Does it matter?"

"It matters when l'm about to do all the things he can't."

Her hand slid up his chest. "You think I want this?"

"I know you do." He dipped his head. "I saw your face in that video."

She let her fingers trail lower, stopping just above his belt.

"And you think about me?" she whispered.

"Every fucking night."

He backed her into the kitchen island, one hand sliding down her hip, gripping her ass through the red dress.

"Have you ever thought about me, Elena?" he asked.

"I have had eyes for you," she said. "But didn't think it would ever happen."

Damien cursed under his breath and kissed her - slow at first, then hungrier. His mouth tasted like whiskey and danger, his tongue deep and greedy.

She moaned softly, grinding her hips against him.

His hands were already moving, dragging her dress up, finding her thighs bare and warm.

"No panties?" he growled.

"I didn't come here to be polite."

His mouth curved wickedly. "Good."

Then he dropped to his knees.

Elena gasped as he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her forward to the edge of the kitchen island, spreading her legs open.

His face was inches from her pussy now, his breath was warm and slow.

She looked down at him, breathing hard.

"You're seriously gonna eat me right here?"

Damien looked up at her. "I'm gonna make you forget every dick you've ever had."

Then he buried his face between her thighs.

Elena's head dropped back with a cry. His tongue was hot, thick, and skilled - dragging slowly from her entrance to her clit, flicking, sucking, eating, and tasting her like she was his last damn meal.

"Fuck..." she whimpered, fingers flying to his hair.

He groaned against her, tongue moving faster, lips latching onto her clit like he owned it. His hands gripped her ass, holding her right there, making her take every stroke of his tongue.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her hip twitched, and he growled, pressing her down harder.

"I'm not done," he murmured against her pussy.

"You're not going anywhere."

She gasped as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them up while his mouth stayed locked on her clit.

Elena cried out, her body trembling.

"Oh my-yes, fuck-"

Her thighs clamped around his head, but he didn't stop. If anything, he got rougher. Sloppier. Filthier.

She was so close.

And he knew it.

He fucked her with his fingers while sucking her juicy pissy hard, sending pulses of heat straight up her spine.

She was moaning his name now, over and over.

"Damien-Damien-Damien—"

Her orgasm hit fast and hard, tearing through her in waves.

She shook. Bucked. Screamed into her own palm.

And he didn't stop until she was twitching-thighs slick, breath gone, legs like jelly.

He pulled back slowly, lips wet, eyes dark.

"That's one," he said.

She blinked, dazed. "One?"

Damien stood, towering over her again.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, gripping her chin. "I haven't even started."