Guilt Looks Like This

CHAPTER SIX

POV: Zara

She woke up in his bed, naked.

Not tangled innocently. Not by accident. Her thighs were sticky, her pussy still faintly throbbing from how many times he’d made her come during the night. Damon’s arm was heavy around her waist, possessive even in sleep, his bare chest pressed to her back and his spent cock nestled warm and thick against the curve of her ass. The scent of sex clung to the sheets, sweat, her arousal, his cum.

She lay there listening to him breathe and thought about Ryan.

Ryan who texted good morning every day. Ryan who was gentle and safe and never once made her feel like this, raw, ruined, and aching for more.

Her eyes burned with shame, but her nipples tightened anyway. Damon’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she felt his cock twitch and begin to thicken against her.

She needed to get up.

She didn’t move.

He woke slowly. She felt the exact moment consciousness returned, the shift in his breathing, the way his hand slid possessively down her stomach and cupped her soaked pussy like it already belonged to him.

“Zara,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep and lust.

“Don’t,” she whispered, but her hips rolled into his fingers anyway. “Just… give me a minute.”

He didn’t stop. Two thick fingers parted her swollen folds and sank inside her easily, curling against that spot that made her gasp. “Still so fucking wet,” he breathed against her neck. “Even after I filled you twice.”

She bit her lip hard enough to hurt. “Nothing happened,” she lied to herself, voice breaking as he slowly fucked her with his fingers.

“We both know that’s bullshit,” he said, gentle but merciless, thumb circling her clit. “You came on my tongue, then on my cock, then begged me to fuck you harder while you cried my name.”

She sat up abruptly, his fingers slipping out of her with a wet sound. Her legs shook as she swung them over the side of the bed, back to him, trying to steady her breathing.

“I’m going to shower,” she said, voice unsteady. “Then breakfast. And we’re going to be normal today.”

Behind her, Damon’s low chuckle was pure sin. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, baby.”

The shower was scalding. She stood under the spray trying to wash him off her, his taste, his scent, the feel of his cum leaking down her thighs, but her hand kept drifting between her legs. She came quickly and shamefully with two fingers buried inside herself, biting her arm to stay quiet, Damon’s name trapped behind her teeth.

When she came out, dressed in one of his oversized hoodies that still smelled like him, he was in the kitchen. Coffee made. Toast ready. He looked at her like he could still taste her on his tongue.

He pushed a mug toward her without a word. She took it, sat, and tried not to squirm at the soreness between her legs.

“Ryan’s going to call today,” she said.

“Probably.” Damon’s eyes dropped to her mouth, then lower, like he was remembering how she’d looked with his cock between her lips.

“I don’t know what to tell him.”

“The truth?” He raised an eyebrow. “That his girlfriend let me fuck her raw all night and loved every second?”

Her face burned. “You know that’s not—”

He met her eyes, dark and hungry. “What do you want me to say, Zara? That I didn’t bend you over this counter in my head while you were on the phone?”

The toaster popped. They ate in charged silence, every glance heavy with what they’d done, and what her body clearly still wanted to do.

Ryan called at half past ten.

She took it in Marcus’s room, closing the door, sitting on the edge of the bed with Damon’s cum still faintly leaking out of her.

“Hey babe,” Ryan’s warm, trusting voice made her stomach twist. “Roads are clearing. I can get up there tonight.”

Her pussy clenched involuntarily at the thought of Ryan arriving while she was still marked by Damon. “Yeah?”

“You okay? You sound… off.”

“I miss you,” she whispered, the lie tasting like ash. While she said it, her free hand slipped under the hoodie and between her thighs, circling her clit as she talked to her boyfriend.

Damon was waiting when she came back, reading her flushed face instantly.

“He’s coming tonight,” she said.

Something dark and possessive flickered across his expression. “Good.”

“Is it?” Her voice cracked.

He set his phone down and stalked around the counter, crowding her against it. “You want me to lie and say I’m happy he’s coming to take you back? After you screamed my name while your cunt was milking my cock?”

She shoved at his chest, but her fingers curled into his shirt instead. “I held your hand… then I let you fuck me. We slept covered in each other and now we’re pretending—”

Damon kissed her hard, lifting her onto the counter, yanking the hoodie up. His mouth was on her neck, then her tits, sucking marks into her skin while she moaned.

“This is so messed up,” she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist anyway.

“Yeah,” he growled, freeing his hard cock and rubbing the thick head against her dripping entrance. “It really is.”

Her phone buzzed. Ryan: Roads clear, leaving in an hour. See you soon babe ❤️

Damon read it over her shoulder and thrust into her in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Zara cried out, nails digging into his back.

“Call Camille,” she panted even as she rocked her hips to take him deeper.

“I will,” he said, fucking her slow and deep, grinding against her clit. “After I fill you one more time.”

She came hard around him, biting his shoulder to muffle her moans while Ryan’s message glowed on the counter beside them.

This was what guilt felt like.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just her boyfriend’s name on her screen while another man’s cock pulsed deep inside her, pumping her full of cum she had no right to crave.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown number.

One word.

“Tick.”