Book 2, Chapter 25: The Mystery Date

**Madison**

“Zemra ime… A nuk ke mbaruar akoma, grua?” Damien complained from outside the closet door. “Ju betohem që jeni të gjithë njësoj! Dukesh shumë bukur ashtu siç je. Vish një thes letre për gjithçka që më intereson. Nuk ke nevojë të bësh rrëmujë.” (My love… Aren’t you done yet?) (I swear you ladies are all the same! You look beautiful just the way you are. Wear a paper sack for all I care. You don't need to make a fuss.)
I happily stood on the other side of the closed door, making him sweat. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. I had actually finished dressing about fifteen minutes ago, but I decided to play a game on my phone when I heard him pacing in the other room. It was so much fun playing with him.

I put my phone in my crossbody bag before leaving the closet. Damien freezes mid-step, looking at me. His eyes widen, and I see his eyes darken with lust. I can’t help but blush. He makes me feel the tingles down to my toes.

“Obobo…” He breathes. “Uau.” (Holy shit… Wow). I smile sweetly at him, pulling a loose strand of my whispy hair behind my ear and biting my lower lip. I have to say, Damien looks good enough to eat too. He is dressed casually in denim jeans that hug his muscular thighs, and I bet if he turned around, it would show me that gorgeous sculpted ass of his too, and probably one of the many guns he usually sported tucked into his waistband. He wore a baby blue polo shirt that accentuated his darker features perfectly and showcased the beautiful ink on his arms. It was tucked into his jeans along with his favorite black belt. He has aviator glasses hanging from the collar and black running shoes. He looked sharp.

My eyes were happily eye-fucking him, and I saw the physical reaction straining against his jeans, making me feel a pool of heat between my legs.

“Pirdhu me mua, tani do të jem sportive gjatë gjithë natës. Dreq, vajzë, dukesh e shijshme,” he said, licking his lips. (Fuck me, now I am going to be sporting a hard-on all night. Damn, girl, you look delicious.)
I approached him cautiously. He watched every move I made like I was going to be his next meal. Hell, I wanted him to make me his next meal. That tongue can do a lot more than speak hot Albanian. I wiggled my finger in a ‘come hither’ motion as he was obscenely tall, silently asking him to come down to my height. He happily obliged. I stood on my tippy toes, breathing into his ear seductively. “Faleminderit... Master… Ndoshta nëse je me fat, do të të jap pak shije më vonë...” (Thank you… Master… Maybe if you are lucky, I'll give you a little taste later...) I kissed his cheek lightly before stepping away from him to get to the door before he could smell my arousal.

His groan made my smile widen until I felt a sharp sting on my right butt cheek. “OW!” I screeched, rubbing the sore spot. Damien held a smug look. He winked at me and crossed the door, opening it for me. “Mos gaboni, my little butterfly… I plan to feast on you… all… night… long,” he said matter-of-factly as we walked down the corridor, hand in hand. (Make no mistake.)

We make quick work of exiting the mansion. A silver two-seater Porsche is parked out front. Roberto is waiting by the passenger side door. He opens the door for me, and Damien insists on buckling me in like a child.
I watch as Roberto hands Damien several colored envelopes before Damien walks around to the driver's side and gets in. “Hold these for me, baby,” he instructs, tossing them on my lap. As he starts the car, the engine purrs to life, and he punches the gas, sending me into my seat as we begin the trek down the miniature mountainside at terrifying speeds. I see a few black SUVs following close behind. I internally roll my eyes, knowing we aren’t going anywhere without the goony brigade close behind.

After we exit the gates, we make our way through the port town, heading to the main downtown city shining on the horizon. Damien places his hand on my thigh and starts lazily caressing my leg, his pinky occasionally rubbing against my covered core. I send a small thank you to all the deities for these jeans. They provide just enough of a barrier that I am almost positive that he can’t tell just how wet he makes me. The vibrant red, one-shoulder Michael Kors top makes me feel pretty with these skinny jeans. They are like a second skin, but I do admit it makes my butt look really good. I have a little surprise for Damien underneath this little ensemble. He said he wanted to feast; well, who am I to stop him? I’m also wearing these cute Roman sandals, and Damien gave me the pearl stud earrings this morning. I put my hair up in a ponytail, curling the ends. Damien loves playing with my hair, so I thought I’d give him something to admire.

“You’ve been so secretive since you asked me out for your little date. Care to share with the class, oh humble one?” I ask with puppy dog eyes. Damien’s smile makes my heart flutter.

“Sarcasm will get you a one-way ticket over my knee, Zemra ime,” he chastised.

“Well, damn, if you had told me that earlier, I would have bought my ticket, first class, not coach!” I retorted. He clicked his tongue before we both started to chuckle. He squeezed my thigh hard, making me moan.

“I will let your insubordination slide, just this once butterfly… Merre zarfin blu. Mbylli sytë dhe zgjidh një nga kartat,” he commanded. (Pick up the blue envelope. Close your eyes and pick out one of the cards.)

“Seriously?” I asked excitedly. “Is this one of those ‘mystery choice’ dates? There are like five envelopes here, Damien. This is way too much!”

“I thought we could make a whole day of it. I told you I was taking you on a proper date. You are my Queen. You should know by now, Zemra ime, that I plan to spoil you as such. Now stop stalling, dhe zgjidh një kartë!” (and pick a card!)

I picked up the envelope in my hand, closed my eyes, and fiddled with the paper inside. I found there were three different pieces of paper. I took them out of the envelope and shuffled them like cards, which was somewhat successful as my eyes were still closed. I scrunched my face, trying to decide how I would pick. I just plucked the middle one and handed it to Damien.

“You can open your eyes now, Zemra ime,” he whispered. I followed his command, looking at him, interested in what I chose.

He held the card for me to read, and I smiled wickedly. An epic whirlwind of ideas flooded my head. He is going down. Once and for all.

*Two hours later…*

“Come out, little bunny, the big bad wolf is hungry,” Damien’s sinister voice rings out in the eerily quiet warehouse. I can hear his shoes softly tap against the floor.
I am currently crouched in a particularly small hidden structure about twelve feet off the ground. It’s a hallowed portion of the stone bridge that sits nicely amongst many shrubs, trees, and rocks. You had to climb to the top of the bridge first and then swing over into the crevice. I found it by accident, but it changed my entire plan immediately. It is abnormally well camouflaged and perfect for a small person like me. It took me a bit of wiggle time to squeeze my big hips and big boobs through the hole, but once inside, it was the perfect hideout. I can hear the endless POPPING sounds of guns in the distance. The sweat on my brow shows my nervousness.

I try to keep my breath steady, even though my heart beats like a battle drum. I raised the gun in my shaky hand and placed it on the edge of the opening, looking down the barrel and waiting for my big moment. It was time to end Damien’s reign.

“Come on, butterfly…” he taunted. His deep, sinister voice was doing things to my insides, but I could not afford to let my feelings cloud my objective. “Come out now! I’d hate to have to increase your punishment… *Luledielli i bebes*…” (baby sunflower) I squinted my eyes and sent him a death glare, even though I didn’t quite know where he was yet.
He knows I hate it when he calls me that. When I was five, my mother was obsessed with sunflowers for about three years, and all I wanted to wear was black, like my brothers, because I emulated them like they were gods among men. Damien would tease me by calling me Baby Sunflower because he said I was so cute and bright. I hated it; I would always throw a tantrum, which just made me more adorable, apparently, and the cycle would continue.

That’s it. I’ve decided. No mercy!

And I didn’t have to wait long for my revenge because he ventured into the small clearing beside the bridge. His gun was raised in classic military precision. He is sweeping the ground and the trees above, searching for me.

Gotcha bitch, I say softly just as he turns to look in my direction, and then I pull the trigger.

POP. POP. POP.