Motherfucking, cunt eating bastard, completely taking advantage of Damien's distraction....and what a distraction it is! As the old man before him rambled and rambled on various clauses and pros and cons of a very lucrative negotiation Damien's mind was elsewhere. In his mind he could vividly picturise a naked teen humping against him, his cock hard and flushed pink, it's head licking precum begging for Damien's tongue to have a taste.
"ne voglio la metà", (I want half) smirked the diplomat.
"nei tuoi fottuti sogni"(in your fucking dreams) retorted Damien, halfhearted, mind still in between the supple ass cheeks of a pouty teen.
What could Liam want from Smith? He was pleasantly surprised when he saw an alert informing his
Beloved boy calling Smith. Was he jealous? Yes definitely! Was he anxious! You need to be foolish to ask such a question. Of course he was. The need to know what was happening inside his boy's mind to so deep that he almost felt nauseated. Smith poured gasoline to the already existing fire in his heart when he said that Liam wanted to seek his advise regarding his feelings for Damien.
He knew Liam was being clingy, his big innocent eyes looked at Damien like he hung the moon for him. His plump pink lips drew up smile as soon as he saw Damien as if he was some god damn Prince Charming. But he was not some prince who conquered his lover's heart through chivalry but he was a monster who brutally fucked up Liam both body and soul. So whenever Liam looked at Damien with his kind, innocent and forgiving eyes he felt worse. As if the devil inside him praised him for the conquest well done. He felt drained with contradictory emotions plaguing his heart, inflicting his mind and further darkening his already black soul.
Frustration building he signalled Jacob to wrap up the meeting as he audibly stood up screeching his chair. He knew he was pissing off the Italian more by abruptly halting the meeting but he could not bring himself to give a rat's fart. As Jacob and his other hired muscles circled his opponent's guards in a threatening manner granting safe passage to Damien, he slipped out of the room ignoring the verbal rants and insults thrown towards him. He needed to be elsewhere and fast.
As his car glided towards the mansion Damien knew everything was changing. The stone structure which was lifeless and spiritless started to look like a home to him. It was no more a place for him to retire after a challenging day but slowly it had a become a place which held warmth and comfort. Liam, the name which started as a game of flesh to him later became his obsession which burned his every nerves. But now the fire had been settled because his obsession turned into something entirely different. The desire for violence, the urge to hurt others, the thirst for blood and burn for destruction was soothed as if someone applied a salve to his charred heart. Liam was his balm, Liam was his salve.
The mansion was eerie, melancholy and deathly. Just as he would have wanted. It was devoid of any emotion, a stone structure with every possible modern lavish feel. It was every thing Damien wanted, impersonal, cold and calm. But he never thought that the stone structure would turn into a place of anticipation, warmth and familial. His boy bought all the charm and sunlight piercing the darkness, coldness into his sterile heart. And home is where the heart is!
Damien was anxious, he was feeling a strangely tingly, an eerie warmth spread throughout his nerves. He was absolutely certain he would be facing a clingy Liam desperate for his cock, desperate for his warmth. He would be only too happy to provide his boy with his cum again and again. But he would make him crave it first by acting cold and detached. He would first pretend to be immersed in his files, then take up some bullshit work. He would let Liam squirm for his attention, pretending to ignore him, well pretending being the key word. (if you readers understand what Damien meant). A slow sinister smile graced his face. Suddenly he felt rejuvenated, alive. His neves taut as if shocked into awareness, as if his entire being knew what grand feast lay ahead.
In a slow and assured steps Damien entered the mansion. He was early. The meeting should have dragged for an hour or two. But Damien could not bring himself to concentrate on deals and negotiations. The first thing he noticed was the startled expression of the laughing maids. As if caught in some illicit act they scampered quickly. The guards gave him tight respectful nod but with definite alarm in their eyes. Something was wrong. Nothing was amiss, everything seems to be perfect. But he was Damien Bishop, master of deception himself. He could sense some difference in ways his subordinates behaved. They didn't expect him so soon.
'Hmmm! What are you all hiding?' Damien plastered a serene smile on his face as his steps took him further. He intended to go straight to his room in search of his boy. But as he turned a familiar laughter froze him rooted to his spot for a few seconds. And then he was moving, urgently, hurriedly in search of that voice. He was like a perched man stranded in a desert, and Liam's melodic laughter was like a tall glass of iced lemonade waiting for him to quench his thirst. His lips unknowingly spread with a slight smile, anticipation burning in his nerves. Just a few more steps, he thought as he followed the voice blindly.
He smelled chlorine and heard splashes of water even before he saw Liam. With a huge smile in his face he stopped dead infront of the pool. His smile freezing in his face, his eyes blazing with fire, his mind screaming murder!