Chapter 20 #4
I can tell by the small smirk on his lips that he knows, but instead of acting on it, he folds me tighter in his arms, his fingers tracing the welts still visible on my hands and breasts.
“Have you reconsidered, my pet?” he breathes into my hair.
I hesitate. “Yes.”
He smiles. “Good girl.”
He flits his hand toward the place between my thighs, and I moan as he curls two fingers and buries them deep within me.
“Tell me.”
“Lucy…” I breathe, interrupting myself as he begins to move his fingers in and out.
“Go on,” he prompts.
I swallow, trying to stay focused as he continues to finger me faster, each of his thrusts touching the spot that makes my breath hitch and my toes curl.
“Lucy… she gave me the key…”
He doesn’t even pause or show any other sign that the information surprises him. But his other hand reaches for one of my nipples. He crushes it in punishment when I stop speaking again, unable to help myself from giving in to his fingers inside me.
“I… I don’t know if she meant to… it was in the cake.”
He settles into a very uncomfortable rhythm, the fingers on one hand fucking me, the others torturing my nipple. And in the midst of these contrasting sensations driving me crazy is his harsh determination to hear the truth. Even though I can barely think straight.
“She brought the cake to you,” he encourages, continuing to torment me. “Did she say anything?”
“She… she… she said the dessert was good,” I moan.
“Did she often comment on the food?”
I shake my head, my eyes closed as his fingers continue to drive deeper into me.
“Well?” he prods, twisting my nipple.
“She never spoke,” I gasp.
“Anything else I should know about?” he murmurs, with the air of someone who knows very well that there is something else.
“I… I’m pretty sure… pretty sure she’s the one who… who…” I take a deep breath, trying to pierce through the fog of arousal as his finger thrusts even faster than before. “She was… she was there.”
“Where?”
“When I stole the perfume.”
At that, his fingers still within me, and I whimper with frantic desire. But this information seems new to him. “The perfume bottle with the nanochip?” he questions.
“Yes. Please… oh, please…”
I grind against him, chasing the wave of pleasure that has suddenly disappeared. Luckily, his mind seems far away, or I’m sure he’d pull away and deny me altogether, just to drive me crazy.
At last he snaps back to the present, and kisses my earlobe.
“Good girl. I’m going to reward you now.”
My entire body thrills as he flips me around so I’m straddling him as I was before he denied me at the last minute out on the balcony. He kisses each of my nipples reverently, then crushes me to him as his cock penetrates me. I whimper loudly.
“Shh,” he whispers, then begins to fuck me.
Even in this position, he manages to thrust into me so hard and so fast that I’m out of breath.
I can barely keep up, and he doesn’t want me to.
One of his arms is wound around my back in a band of steel while the other grips my ass as he continues to pump into me, making me see white every time he slams into my cervix.
But clearly he’s not fucking me as hard and as fast as he’d like. Before I have time to get used to this first position, he flips me over the side of the tub, and continues to pound into me faster than I thought possible.
“Damien!” I shriek, my cries turning into a loud whimper of pleasure.
He quiets me by bringing a hand to my nipple and twisting it. “Take it like a good girl,” he grunts, and unexpectedly, the words turn me on even more. What the hell?
I’m so overwhelmed by his cock filling me that I don’t even have time to think my usual thought. What the fuck is wrong with you, Seraphina Connor?
Moments later, it feels like, he’s switching it up again, rising from the bath and pinning me to the wall, his chest flush against my back. I shiver from the sudden cold, but his arms wrap themselves around me, part comfort, part restraint, as he thrusts into me.
This is the best position yet. I close my eyes, feeling safe and small in his arms even as my core turns to liquid desire.
The toe-curling pressure within me builds and builds as he continues to fill me, his cock impossibly large and long. I feel myself reaching the crest of the wave just as he begins to shudder around me, and we both come together, his seed filling me as I spasm with bliss.
He holds me like that for a while before withdrawing gently and folding me into a thick, warm towel.
“Happy homecoming, my darling,” he murmurs, and kisses me gently.
Then he carries me downstairs to the kitchen, where he’s laid out a feast. I guess that’s what he was doing while I was worried he’d deserted me. He punishes me while taking care of me.
I’m forcefully reminded of the last time he did that, after he beat me in the woods and I came home to find a cooked meal. But this time, the punishment is easier to bear, because I know that beneath it is love. At least, I’m pretty sure of it.
The pinprick of doubt is still there, but it feels increasingly easy to move past.
Damien might have left the bedroom, but I never left his thoughts. It’s a reassuring thought, though his punishments are pretty messed up.
Still, I’m pretty messed up too. I guess it all works out.
After everything that’s happened, the last thing I am is hungry right now, but he holds me firmly to him, sitting me down on his lap and feeding me.
I don’t have it in me to resist anymore.
All I can do is wonder how long it’ll take him to stop eating his food so he can eat…
well, me instead. I actually blush at the obscene thought, and he glances down at me with a smirk that shows he knows what I’m thinking, before serving me another heaping forkful of steak.
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The days following our homecoming are pure bliss. Vaguely I’m aware that Damien is dealing with the Lucy situation, but her name and what it means for our safety melt under my happiness. I haven’t been happy like this in a long time. Not since before the eight months of separation.
Damien is once more showing his soft side. Well, as soft as possible for him, which isn’t saying much. He seems to like nothing more than to punish me, and his punishments are more painful than ever, but they’re also always followed by sex, and I want it all.
He also seems to like to scare me, and weirdly, I like it too. I spend far too much time dangling over the balcony railing, but we also change it up by exploring the outdoors, and the forest that borders the property.
There’s nothing like the thrill of being hunted to make me wet.
The first time he told me to run in the woods, I realized just how traumatized I still was by Vale and by the way he hunted me in the forest while I was already bleeding out from a stab wound.
I nearly had a panic attack right then and there, but the need to run and hide, even though I knew it was Damien and not Vale who was coming after me, kept me focused. It wasn’t until Damien caught me in his arms that I allowed myself to fall apart.
He didn’t fuck me, then. Only held me as I sobbed into his shoulder. But since then, we’ve played the game every day, and now the terror is gone, replaced by a thrill of power.
Because I’ve started to know the woods well, and I’ve begun to feel that I really could escape. If Vale were hunting me now, I’d win.
Damien only finds me because I allow him to. I lose because I chose to.
I’ll always want to be found by Damien.
Especially when being found means getting fucked hard right on the forest floor. Or against a tree. Or over a moss-covered boulder. Or… well, in too many ways to name.
We also christened every single inch of the house. I’m glad Damien only installed the cameras around the perimeter of the property, and that the guards are stationed quite a while away from the house. I do not want them to see this depravity.
When we’re not fucking, Damien is so tender that I nearly find myself believing he does have it in him to be a family man.
And I begin to wonder if I couldn’t be a housewife, after all.
Just those words would have sounded absurd before.
Seraphina Connor, the housewife. But now, I realize Damien wants it. And somehow, I want what he wants.
Luckily, what he wants most is sex. A lot of it, and in the most creative ways possible.
We bathe together every evening, but we haven’t had sex there since the first time. So when he pushes me away from him one night so I’m on my hands and knees in the bathtub, my body thrills as I wonder what he’s going to do to me.
His finger slides right past my pussy and plunges itself in my ass.
I gasp, part pain, part pleasure. No matter how often he fucks me there, I can’t quite get used to it. Which I guess is part of the reason he’s so drawn to that part of me. It must feel like deflowering me over and over.
The finger thrusts into me hard, as Damien strokes my lower back to relax me. My hands clutch at the smooth surface beneath me, trying not to slip.
Just as I begin to relax, he adds a second finger, then a third. I know what’s coming now and I groan, half anticipation, half pain.
And sure enough, when he at last withdraws his fingers, it’s only to replace them with the tip of his cock.
I arch for him, tilting my head down a bit, and that seems to give him a sudden idea.
“Take a deep breath,” he commands.
“What?”
I barely have time to inhale before he’s dunking my head underwater, at the same time driving his member deep within me. I thrash in surprise, unable to keep the water out of my nostrils and mouth, and he lets me up.
“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Deep breath.”
This time he gives me enough warning so I can catch my breath. Then he pushes me down once more.