Lust, Loathe, Love

Shoving a spoonful of peas and mashed potatoes into my mouth, I glance around the table, somewhat listening to a bit of everyone's conversations. Listening to Maxwell and mom talk to each other about their says, and to Jake and Damon arguing over whether werewolves instinctively know how to swim or not. I sprinkle more salt onto my food and inhale a heaping forkful of chicken smothered in gravy.

"Slow down girly, you'll end up choking," Maxwell's deep voice rumbles from across the table, his laughter following close behind. I look up, smiling at him, and he almost spits out his own food when mine falls from my mouth to my plate.

Damon's hand, nuzzled tightly into my thigh, squeezes it as he too laughs. Everyone loses their cool, spitting out in laughter. I spoon a heap of mashed potato onto my spoon and launch it at Maxwell's face. It hits its mark and splatters across mom's face as well. This time I burst out in laughter. Seeing Jake loading up a spoonful, I gather my plate and utensils and leg it to my bedroom, giggling the whole way there. I sit down at my custom mahogany desk, on the bright pink incredibly comfortable chair that Maxwell bought me for my birthday.

I open my laptop and take another bite of food before clicking onto the website that I upload my music onto. Clicking onto the song I uploaded yesterday morning, I try not to let my nerves eat at me too much. Seeing that it has twice as many likes as it does dislikes, I hurriedly click into the comments section.

This is awesome. So easy to fall asleep too, and so deep! Can't wait for the next one!

Honestly, 'Darkness inside me' is my favorite, but this is cool.

When uploading again? Tomorrow?

I don't know, it's too abrupt, hard to listen to unless I'm like TOTALLY in the mood for it

I sit back in my seat, frowning.

I know you like making sad songs and shit but this is just next level depressing. Pick something upbeat! Are you okay? Damn

She may as well just say out loud she wants to kill herself, shit bro

Maybe she's overcompensating or what? XD

Slamming my laptop shut, I make my way down to the kitchen with my plate, appetite lost.

"You okay, baby? I ignore my mom and throw my plate in the sink, hearing it crack a cup but not caring.

"Amaya, darling." I ignore her. Everyone hates that name. Going by it only causes bullying. Not even mom likes it. My dad picked it.

"Girl." I stop when I hear that, hating when he calls me that. Turning back around I find everyone staring at me, Damon especially confused.

"Your mother is speaking to you," he says, carefully placing down his knife and fork. Almost instinctively, I glance back at Damon. Maxwell has always made me uneasy. He's fun and actually kind of cool but there's something about him . .

"I'm fine. Leave me alone."

I turn around, heading back to my bedroom.

A chair scrapes against the tile, "Young lady, you do not speak to us like that."

Whirling to face him, I glare, my magic itching up my throat, making my chest tight.

"And you do not speak to me like that! You are not my father and I am not your daughter! Lay the hell off me, Max!" Feeling my hair begin to lift, I storm away. Just for some extra measure, I slam my door before I flop onto my bed in tears, and promptly scream into my pillow.

A knock sounds on my door and I almost roll my eyes. Already. I slammed my door not even a minute ago.

"Fuck off!" Grabbing my phone, I click on the website and continue reading through the comment section. Reading all the nice comments mixed in with the hateful ones. The downright fucking evil ones. I don't actually notice time passing until another knock sounds at my door, my mother's voice coming through.

"Amaya? Pumpkin, are you alright? Did something happen?" When she doesn't receive an answer the door opens enough that she could probably fit a hand through.

"Do you need help controlling your . . . business?" I almost laugh, knowing we can't talk about my magic with Damon in the house. Instead of laughing I continue scrolling. However, I still tell her the truth, as always.

"I'm not okay, mom. I need some space, please."

I almost hear her sigh, "Do you need a mental health day tomorrow?"

This does make me smile. Since I saw dad die I've struggled, nothing but negativity and anxiety consuming me. So she allows me a limited number of mental health days, where I can stay home no questions asked. One day I'll give my children that same choice, struggling or not.

"Yes, please."

This time, I do hear her sigh, "I love you, pumpkin."

"Love you too, mama." The door closes and I throw down my phone, rolling back to stare at the ceiling. My one passion is music, and people hate it. Mom could never understand how deep that passion is. Dad did though. Enough that he learned to play the guitar and we'd play together in the garage, at the beach, out at pubs, to anyone that would grant us the time of day. People loved us. Now, they miss him and hate me. Not that I blame them. I didn't do anything. I didn't save him. I was a coward them and I am a coward now.

Another knock suddenly sounds.

"Oh my god, what?! Just leave me alone!"

This time I struggle to keep the tears out of my voice. Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, Damon's head pops in. I shake my head, waving an arm at him as I tell him to go away.

He just gives me a look, "Come on. What's wrong?" He shuts the door and jumps onto the bed, pulling me into his chest. His eyes, however briefly, held on my chest.

"Has someone said something to upset you?" I don't answer. Instead, I hand him my phone and close my eyes, snuggling further into his chest.

"Aya . ."

"Just leave it alone, Damon."

"No." The only reason I open my eyes is to glare at him. His lip twitches in response.

"I said get out. Why won't you listen?"

Shaking his head, he rolls us, pinning me under him, "Cause someone needs to tell you how amazing you are. How calming and incredible your music is."

My breath catches in my throat, gut tightening as my magic coils within it, wanting desperately to be released. To touch him. His breath hits my cheek, sending tingles through my face, and lower. Knowing exactly what he's doing to me, his lips twitch upwards as he touches them to my jaw.

"Someone," he breathes, "Needs to tell you how spectacular you are. How beautiful. How . . How so incredibly sexy you are." His lips trail down my neck as his hands bring my tank top over my head. He kisses down my chest, down the crevice between my breasts, down my stomach. The top of my jeans is dragged dangerously low as his lips pass my navel. Almost on instinct, my hips lift off the bed. My hands reach for his shirt, tossing it across the room and he comes back up to my face, smiling at my heavy breathing.

"Damon . ."

Grinning, he presses a finger to my lips.

"Shhh," he tells me.

I obey him, grabbing his shoulders, sliding my palms down his sculpted chest. His tongue drags up my stomach, to my lips. As his lips slam against mine, my fists fill with his hair. When he pulls away I close my hands around his wrists, bringing them to my growing breasts, letting him feel the weight of them and how hard my nipples are. His breathing deepens as he feels them, squeezes them.

Unbeknownst to me, his hand makes its way beneath my pants. So naturally, my breath hitches when I feel his warm fingers touch me, as he smiles when he feels how wet I am. His finger flicks against me and almost immediately, my body warms. That finger teases me for a moment before pressing into my clit as his mouth presses onto mine. His knee nudges my leg, spreading it as one of those fingers slides into me. Letting go of my lips, he smirks down at me, watching my breath catch.

"You like that?"

His teeth catch my bottom lip, pulling slightly as his finger moves in and out of me.

"Damon?"

He springs off the bed with lightning-fast speed, leaving the room in a rush. Leaving me lying there cold and confused, cursing Jake for calling him. Before I can forget what just happened, I finish the job myself. I kick off my jeans and slip my hand into my panties. Damon appears beneath my closed eyelids as I move my thumb in slow, hard circles. His chest appears next, his sculpted stomach, the hard bulge that was pressed against my thigh a few seconds ago. His deep, accented voice, purring my name. Growling it. The thought of his hands squeezing my breasts, his fingers inside me.

I throw my head back onto the pillows as my back arches, snapping my eyes open. All movement ceasing immediately when I see Damon's face. My own goes red hot and I scramble to grab my blanket but he stops me, smirking. He climbs onto the bed again and leans over me, holding himself up with the headboard. His other hand drifts back into my panties, replacing my own. His fingers push inside me without hesitation, his thumb rubbing my clit as his fingers thrust inside me, again and again.

"Oh god, Damon . ."

"Shh," he tells me again. "You like that?"

A moan breaks out of me, loud enough that he repositions his body and puts a hand over my mouth. That hand accelerates the process. It's not long later that I'm moaning into his hand and finishing all over his other. That sexy smirk still stuck on his face, he brings that hand to his lips and sucks on one of his fingers, tasting me. It gets me wet all over again.

"Damon! What the fuck man? Hello?"

I'm brought back to reality by a grunt and then pressure within my stomach. Blinking a few times, I find myself still lying atop the kitchen table, Jake standing between my legs. Tears slip as I blink slowly, trying to stay within that memory. Trying desperately to hold onto it. The thought of Damon and those few times we were intimate has gotten me through years of rape. Other memories of us have gotten me through the beatings and verbal abuse. I wish desperately that I could go back to those years. To actually make something of Damon and me, to shout it out to the world. To save my dad. To save my mom.

Jake's fingers dig into my stomach as he starts fucking me faster.

"Fuck yes," he pants. "God. Oh . . you like that, you whore? You fucking like that?" I cover my face with my hands, masking my falling tears and wobbling lips from him.