EMMA DAMIAN 13

E M M A

I awakened the next morning feeling both pained and calm for the first time in a long time. When I first opened my eyes and gazed up at the ceiling, something in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I rolled over on my pillow to find Damian soundly sleeping beside me.

Oh shit. It wasn't a nightmare. The night before, I'd actually slept with him. The exquisite ache between my thighs reminded me before I could tell myself it didn't happen. I'd completely forgotten how massive he was.

What were you thinking, you moron? I chastised myself. I had hoped to entice him, tease him, and then abandon him. I'd been completely incorrect.

Damian was sound asleep, his muscular chest rising and falling beneath the white linen sheet stretched around his waist. And through the sheet, I could clearly see the contour of his cock.

Stupid focus. That's how you got yourself into this problem in the first place.

I wanted to jump out of bed and into the shower to wash away the night and forget about it. I didn't have the opportunity.

Damian's eyes slowly opened, and a grin crept across his annoyingly attractive face as soon as he saw I was standing next to him.

"Good morning, beautiful."

I slid onto my back, seizing one of the pillows, and slamming it down on my face, defeated. He smiled and snatched the pillow from my head. I opened my eyes to see him smirking at me with all the arrogance of a very content guy, leaning on his side, his head propped up on his palm.

I told him flatly, "We shouldn't have done this."

He smiled once more. "Of course we should have. In fact, I believe we should repeat the exercise."

I was enraged at both him and myself. I sat up and gave him the finger of accusation. "No, you jerk. We should not have. ”

His brow wrinkled. "What's the matter?" " he inquired, his voice innocent. "We chilled out, had a few beers, and eventually found ourselves here."

"How can you be so dismissive of last night?" What happened after what we did? ”

He was now completely perplexed. "That's right, Emma, we did it." We may have had a few glasses of wine beforehand, but nothing happened that we didn't want to happen."

I wanted to tell him to shut up because he was spewing nonsense. But he was correct: we slept together because it was something we both desired.

"No...It was just the alcohol!" ”

He chuckled. "Don't attempt to blame it on the drink, Emma. "We both know that's nonsense."

"Do you realize how much of a jerk you are?" We both do something we know we shouldn't have done, yet you act as if it's a joke."

He kept his shit-eating grin on his face. "You have to admit, it's a little amusing." We both had it in our heads that we were going to spend an evening together that was completely platonic. That certainly did not work out."

My mind was filled with images from the previous night. Damian's hand was on the small of my back as he fingered me, his thumb pressed against my clit. The orgasm that exploded through my body faded, only to be replaced with a yearning for more, more, more.

And that wasn't some hazy memory; I remembered everything well. We'd had a few drinks, but not nearly enough to put it down to the alcohol.

Then I remembered lying in front of him, his magnificent body flexing and tensing as he held my arm to his chest, his cock filling me over and over.

Despite my fury and moderate hangover, it was enough to make me cry. But there was no way I was going to let him win this fight.

"I recall us hanging out and...things happened.." It was insignificant."

Another chuckle. "You start with us being intoxicated. Now you're admitting that's not the case, so you're going to say it didn't matter? ”

"It was meaningless. All we did was hook up."

Before sliding off the bed and rising up, he flashed me one last confident grin. In the bright sunlight, his physique seemed even more perfect than it had been on top of me. He sauntered across the room, oblivious to the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born.

I couldn't take my gaze away from him. On his flawless frame, there was not a single ounce of fat. His muscles were delineated as if he were an anatomy textbook diagram. It was understandable that a doctor in his position would be in such superb health.

He knelt and grabbed something from the floor. He turned around and buttoned up his shirt. It was the same one he'd worn the night before.

"See this?

" he inquired, his cock dangling freely between his strong thighs. Even if it was flaccid, the size was huge, and it was more than enough to turn me on again.

"It's just a tee." What do you think? ”

"This isn't just any shirt; it's a Tom Ford shirt that was custom-made for me." When you've got shoulders like this, it's tough to find clothes off the rack." He smirked, and I rolled my eyes.

I remarked, "Congratulations on the expensive clothing."

"Not congrats," she says. I wore a nice shirt. It's now damaged." I was perplexed, but as he pulled up the front and showed me the missing buttons, I understood what he meant. "Do you know why these have vanished?" Because in the heat of passion, someone tore them off. I'm not going to name names right now, but..."

It became evident what he was trying to say.

I murmured awkwardly, "That doesn't mean anything."

"Of course!" says the speaker. It means you were just as ready to strip down and get into bed with me as I was with you. You might call it a connection, but you were really into it."

I was enraged because he was correct and I refused to admit it. I rose up and put my feet on the ground, waving another accusatory finger in his direction. "You're...you're full of nonsense!" " I said. "You did exactly what you did with every other girl you've slept with — you charmed them for a night of getting your thrills."

He didn't react, and his gaze was drawn downward. I had no idea what he was staring at at first. But I figured it out when a cold morning breeze blew in through the open balcony door across from the bed. I was just as nude as he was.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the scenery.

"Take a photo, asshole," I said, grabbing the bedsheets and wrapping them around my body.

He looked around the room and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Can't find my phone?" "The new iPhone camera would be ideal."

I grunted in frustration. "You are such a jerk!" ”

"Hey, I'm not the one accusing the other of taking advantage of the situation. And you already know that's a load of nonsense. I'm sure you'd agree to another session if I put the moves on you again."

He folded his arms beneath his broad, muscular chest as he rested against the tall dresser drawer next to him. And, despite the fact that I despised myself for it, the prospect of sleeping with him again was enough to turn me on. But I'd reached my limit, what with the mild headache and my rage at both him and myself.

"Fuck you!

" I scooped up my clothing and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me with the sheet still wrapped around my body.

As soon as I entered my room, tears welled up in my eyes, staining the lovely linens of the pillows beneath my face.

I persuaded myself that I wasn't sobbing because I was upset. I'm crying because I'm so angry with that jerk.

Regardless of my thoughts, I knew deep down it wasn't the reason I was crying for the first time in God-only-knew how long. It was because, as much as I wanted to blame Damian for everything that had transpired, the truth was achingly obvious. My own actions, my own judgments, caused me to let down my guard, allowing the only man who had ever injured me to return and repeat the cycle.

I gave myself two minutes to vent my frustrations, complete with a timer on my phone. During those two minutes, I exerted every ounce of effort I could muster to push the sorry-for-myself junk out of my system, and by the time the alarm went off, I was ready.

I got up, my will bracing me as I planted my feet on the floor. I was ashamed and upset, but I wasn't going to let it get to my head.

The first step was to get out of Bora. I packed my baggage and checked my phone for the next flight back to Metro Manila after washing my face and brushing my teeth.

I'd have to pay for it myself, but it'd be better than sitting in a private plane with that fucking dick for company.

There was a flight leaving in an hour and a half, and the ticket had a last-minute discount. I grabbed my belongings and exited the room after purchasing it.

Damian, ever the jackass, took a seat in front of the dining room table. He had two glasses of crimson drink in front of him, and as I approached, he turned his gaze to me.

"There you are," he remarked, as if nothing was wrong at all. "I ordered a little something from room service - tomato juice and shrimp smoothies," he said, picking one up and extending it toward me.

I didn't even feel petty enough to be angry at him since I was filled with righteous purpose. With that in mind, why would I refuse the good doctor's hungover advice? I slid the glass down into the thick, soupy, blood-red liquid.

He said, "Now. Perhaps you could simply sip—"

I interrupted him by raising the glass to my lips and tilting my head back, gging it down. The cocktail was thick and beefy. I pushed the glass back in his direction when it was empty.

He took the glass and placed it on the table, saying, "That...one that's way to down it." "I see you're ready to take out," he said, looking over my shoulder at the baggage I'd taken out with me. Our flight isn't due to take off until two o'clock, so I guess we can relax here until then, then grab some lunch and—"

I said, "Don't worry about me." "I'm returning on my own."

He shook his head to one side, perplexed. “What? ”

"I've booked another flight." It's leaving shortly, so I'd better get going."

"Wait, what? You're leaving? But I have a private jet. What made you purchase your own ticket? ”

"I just felt like I'd had my fill of Bora." However, I kept that information to myself. My exit was supposed to be bloodless and drama-free.

"Are you kidding me?"

" He laughed, as if he had finally grasped the joke. "Anyway, if you want, go ahead and run some errands or anything." I'll be present. Just hurry back before noon so we can travel to the airport on schedule."

I didn't bother to tell him the truth about the issue. "Sure," I said as I went to get my belongings. "See you around, Doc," I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the suite.

I was still hurting, but I'd made my decision and stuck to it. Damian had served his purpose. Now and always.

I'd never see him again if everything went according to plan.

It is never too late to do what I should have done years ago.