Chapter 13 #2
He makes a pleased sound deep in his throat, his punishing rhythm unchanged. His fingers slide down to circle my throat, and his grip tightens, cutting off my air.
“That’s right, Luna. Every part of you is mine. Remember that the next time another man tries to touch you.”
The words brand themselves into my brain whether I want them there or not.
There’s something about how he claims me and controls me that goes beyond anything I’ve felt before.
My body responds to his roughness even as my mind questions why I need this, why I hunger for what only this masked man gives me.
Then he shifts his angle, and thought dissolves under the wave of sensation. Heat coils tight in my belly, winding tighter with each brutal thrust until I’m balanced on the edge of breaking.
“Are you going to come?” His voice splinters, betraying how close he is. “Are you going to come on my cock after coming on his tongue?”
He loosens his fingers just enough. The sound that escapes me is small and broken.
“Yes.”
The room tilts, and my body knows nothing but the ache, the building wave and the desperate climb, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, pulling me toward some sharp precipice I can’t escape.
His grip tightens around my throat again as he drives into me without mercy. My lungs burn for air while my vision starts to dim at the edges.
“Do it. Come for me, Luna. Show me you’re mine and only mine.”
His command and the sudden rush of oxygen when he releases me send me tumbling over the cliff. My body contracts around him in waves, pleasure tearing through me like wildfire. I sink my teeth into the duvet to trap my scream, every muscle seizing with the force of my climax.
Before the tremors fade, he pulls out and flips me onto my back in one swift motion.
My tied hands wedge beneath me, trapped under the curve of my back, but something about it feels almost gentle despite the brutality seconds before.
I squirm, trying to shift my arms to something less painful, but my own weight locks them in place.
He positions himself at my entrance, but instead of the violent thrust I expect, he slides into me with agonizing slowness, inch by inch, his masked gaze never leaving my face as he watches my reaction.
“What are you doing?” The words come out breathless, confusion clouding my thoughts at this departure from our usual dynamic.
He doesn't answer. Instead, he withdraws until only his tip remains, then sinks back in, slow and deliberate.
The next thrust goes deeper, stretching me further.
Then another, each one reaching places the previous stroke didn't. His hand moves to cup my face, palm warm against my cheek.
His thumb finds my lower lip, tracing the curve with a gentleness that doesn't belong here, doesn't fit with anything I know about us.
“Is this how you wanted him to fuck you tonight, little doe? Gentle? Slow?”
His cock glides slowly, almost leisurely, along my inner walls, the sensation making my eyes flutter.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you like how I fuck you?” He slams into me once with his usual force before slowing again.
“I love it,” I gasp.
“Then why would you want him to fuck you like this?”
“I want you to fuck me like this.” My admission is raw and honest.
He continues his slow rhythm, withdrawing until only the tip remains before sinking back in to the hilt.
“I’m not a gentle man, Luna. I told you that right from the beginning.”
But his careful movements tell a different story. I arch beneath him, seeking more contact.
“I know. And I want every brutal thing you do to me. But I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your skin against mine as you move inside me, just like this. But you won’t give it to me.”
A sob breaks free before I can stop it. It sounds like the cries he pulls from me when pleasure overwhelms, but this one carries something heavier—grief mixed with want.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” A growl tears through his teeth. “Knowing who I am will change everything.
“There’s nothing wrong with change. Change can be good.”
“Not when it means losing you.”
“You won’t lose me. I’ve given you every part of me. Why isn’t it enough?”
This talking while he moves inside me is so incredibly erotic. The intimacy of it strips me bare in ways his hands never could. He continues his slow, purposeful rhythm, his body suspended above mine while his arms create a cage of heat and muscle around me.
All I want is for him to collapse onto me, skin to skin.
Why won’t he kiss me? Why is my mouth good enough for his cock but not his lips?
“Please.” My voice cracks with need for something I can’t name.
His thumb brushes my lip again. “Not yet. Not like this.”
The words confuse me, but I can’t focus on them because he shifts his angle, finding the spot that makes my spine arch. Pressure builds again, slower this time but somehow deeper.
“Come with me. Give me one more, little doe.”
The command pulls me toward the edge, and when his hand slips between us to circle my clit, I shatter. This orgasm rolls through me in long, gentle pulses while he finally lets go, his body trembling above me as he spills inside me.
We stay joined for several heartbeats—his forehead dropped to my shoulder while his frame hovers just out of contact as our breathing settles. Then he pulls out, leaving cold air where his warmth had been.
He climbs off the bed and turns me to my side, snapping the zip tie with his fingers. My wrists fall free, and he rubs the red marks left behind, working away the ache.
“Why weren’t you more brutal with me tonight? After what I did?”
He ignores my question, doesn’t even acknowledge I spoke. Instead, he just adjusts his clothing, getting ready to vanish like he always does. But tonight something’s different. His hands move with less certainty than usual.
“Will you ever tell me who you are?”
He stills, his back to me. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.” My voice doesn’t waver. “I want to know who you…” My throat constricts around the words. “I want more than this. More than these stolen moments in the dark.”
He turns halfway toward me, the mask catching what little light filters through the room.
“I won’t share you with another man. You’re fucking mine.”
“Then trust me with who you are.”
“I’m a killer, Luna. That won’t change. If you really want to know who I am, you’ll have to live with the consequences. Live with knowing that the man you let inside you every night often kills with those hands before they touch you.”
I plant my palms on the mattress and push myself up. My hair falls across my face, and I push it back with trembling fingers.
“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t struggle with that?
I’m waiting for the night you show up here covered in blood.
” My voice cracks on the last word, but I force myself to keep going.
“And do you want to know the worst part? I hate that I don’t care enough to stop this.
I’ll always want your hands on me. I don’t ever want to go back to living without them. ”
The mask turns his face into an impenetrable wall, and it makes me want to scream because I can sense the storm of emotions he’s hiding just out of my sight.
“Listen to me.” His voice drops to something deadly quiet. “This is the last time I’m going to say this, Luna. If another man ever puts his hands on you, his mouth on you, or his cock inside you, I’ll come here dripping in his blood and fuck you until it covers every inch of your skin.”
And then he’s gone, slipping into the night like the phantom he is, leaving only silence and the lingering echo of his threat.
I curl onto my side and pull the blanket over my bare skin. My body aches in all the right places, marked by his touch. His words won’t stop resonating through the hollow space he left behind.
Nothing about tonight makes sense. I should be covered in bruises, barely able to move.
When Damien kissed me, jealousy turned my wolf into something savage.
Tonight, after I let Damien taste me, my wolf drove into me like he wanted to leave permanent marks.
And he did. I feel every brutal second of it radiating through my body.
But halfway through, something shifted in him.
The savagery bled away, replaced by movements that felt like worship. Like he was cherishing me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. The room falls into stillness, waiting for footsteps that won’t come back until tomorrow night. The scent of him lingers in the air. I pull the blanket tighter around me, suddenly aware of how alone I am. How alone I always am after he leaves.
Why can’t he trust me with the truth hiding behind that mask?
My breath stutters because now I know with crystal clarity what this knot in my chest really is.
This isn’t just a physical need anymore.
This stopped being about sex a long time ago.
Somewhere between the fear and the pleasure, between his violence and his surprising gentleness, I fell in love with him.
It took Damien’s mouth on me to understand that I’d already given my heart to someone else.
I’m in love with a killer whose face I’ve never seen.
How fucked up is that?
But there’s Damien too. He fills different spaces in my chest. Brilliant and controlled, he treats me like I’m something worth protecting rather than conquering. He respects my work, seems to care about animals as much as I do, and he makes me laugh and think and want.
I’m torn between them. Two different men, yet both make my pulse race and my thoughts tangle into knots. One thrives in shadow; the other in light. One takes, the other gives. Both have pieces of me I’m not sure I can reclaim.
My chest tightens. I press my palm between my breasts, trying to ease the pressure building there. This can’t continue. Something has to break, either them or me.
Sleep pulls at me—the gala, Damien’s mouth, my wolf’s claiming all blending into exhaustion. But consciousness refuses to fade completely. A whisper surfaces in the darkness of my mind, the question I’ve buried beneath rationalization and denial.
What if there is no choice to make?
The thought is absurd. That’s why I keep dismissing it.
Yet there are these ever-present, recurring moments when something feels familiar.
The way Damien’s eyes darkened when I refused to stay at his penthouse.
My wolf’s hands tonight, gentle where I expected brutality, tender after my betrayal.
The way both men look at me like I’m air and they’re drowning.
It’s a dangerous thought, one that could shatter the delicate balance of my complicated life. But as sleep claims me, I can’t quite push it away. No matter how insane it is.