𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || ᴅᴀᴍɪɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ

Chapter 8

this is so cringe, guilty. this is short dont kill me

Damien did not know how or why, his heart was beating so fast, as if palpitating, as soon as he heard Marinette call him honey. He never would have imagined that him, Damien Wayne, would be behaving like he had a highschool crush, especially with the lady he was arranged with. 

He heard the door of the car open, and his eyes instantly went to the girl beside him, "Sweetheart, what are you doing? I am the one who is going to open doors for you from now, alright? Do not worry about your seatbelt either, I will be the one who puts it on, got it?"

Marinette nodded, eyes closed as she took in their proximity, her breath starting to pant, "Yes, sir."

"Sir?" Damien smirked, "That is new even for me, sweetheart," he laughed as he saw Marinette's face redden even more, "Darling, there is no need to be ashamed, yeah? Everyone is different in what they like. Hopefully we will be able to find out what you like soon," Finishing with that, he pulled her in for a long, passionate kiss.

"Ahh," Marinette moaned.

Damien pulled back suddenly, leaving a whimpering Marinette behind, "C'mon love, we will have plenty more opportunities to do this," Damien opens the door, "Sit."

Marinette hurridly gets in the car, her cheeks still red from the short conversation. 

After they got in the car, Damien immediately took off, leaving Marinette to think about what just happened, her cheeks gradually going back to their original color. 

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

Damien put his hand on one of her legs, getting dangerously close to her heat, "Is this okay?" Marinette nodded, albeit hesitant of the way she was feeling in her private part. "Words, sweetheart," her fiancee demanded.

"Yes, Damien," Marinette blurted out just as they reached the destination. 

"C'mon sweetheart, let us eat the best Italian food in the town, yeah?" Damien smirked at Marinette, her face extremely red. 

Damien swiftly got out of the car, and helped Marinette out of his car. The girl grabbed his arm, slightly nervous about eating in such a fancy place.

"Good evening, do you have a reservation?" The hostess smiled at them, looking up from her tablet. 

"Yes, table for two. It should be under Wayne."

"Found it," the hostess looked up again, "Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, if you could just follow me, I will show you to your table."

Marinette looked down, blushing, the hostess' assumption did not go unnoticed by her. While she is trying to divert her mind while walking to their tables, she could not deny how good it felt for her to be called Mrs. Wayne. She absolutely loved the way her stomach erupted in butterflies, but again, she was going to be married soon, to the man she met less than a month ago.