Chapter Twelve
damian
Elena’s scream pierced the haze in my mind, sharp with an enormous amount of panic, and for a heartbeat, I registered her fear.
Then the pull hit, and I was no longer entirely me.
It started in my chest, like a clawing, writhing sensation; a cold weight pressing into every muscle, every nerve.
My hands trembled against her as I held onto her, my fingers dug into her skin, and my own voice was strangled somewhere deep inside as something else demanded to speak, to move, and to feel.
I tried to resist, God, I tried, but it was a battle I couldn’t fight.
The spirit shoved its way through me, consuming the spaces between my thoughts, twisting my own heartbeat into its desired rhythm.
“Let me go! Damian!” she screamed in my grasp, fighting her way out. The lit candles were still arranged neatly, and I knew what she was trying to do…I had told her. But it was of no use now, the candle couldn’t protect her anymore, because I was still flesh and blood.
“I think you know your struggles only makes me want to fuck you more, Elena,” I said, holding her steady as she tried to avoid my gaze.
“I think that’s why you fight this even when I can smell how fucking wet your cunt is.
” As the words left my mouth, a shiver ran through my spine, mostly because of how right the entity was.
I really could smell how wet she was, and it had me seeking answers I dared not assume.
But something about being trapped here, wherever here was, felt familiar, like the first feeling I had when I saw the house, and walked through its door.
Like I had been here before, trapped in a cage while still being used as a puppet.
My thoughts couldn’t understand why, why this felt so wrong, yet so familiar, like my skin remembered a piece to the puzzle my memory could not.
“I don’t…I do not. Let him go, let me go, please,” she begged, and I caught a glimpse of her through the darkened haze, her wide eyes, her trembling hands, and the way her body fought in my grip.
She looked like she was trying to hold herself together, to be brave.
She smelled of fear and desperation, but there was a hunger there too, a raw, somewhat arousing feel that I couldn’t deny coming from her.
Even as the possession pressed through me, I felt it; her presence, the way it pulled at the corners of my mind, beckoning something dark and forbidden.
“We are one and the same, brave girl, and tonight, we both will be fucking you back to your fucking senses. After tonight, you’ll know never to end a life this good.”
“Damian…” her voice trembled, caught somewhere between a plea and panic.
I wanted to respond, to reassure her, tell her that I was fighting this, trying to come back to her, but it wasn’t entirely me anymore.
The spirit spoke through me, in a jagged voice, sounding so cruel, yet intoxicating, threaded with heat I shouldn’t have felt.
My body moved on its own, and before I could realize what it was making me do, my tongue was on her face, licking it in a slow, deliberate motion.
I swear I thought I heard her whimper a moan.
Then I smirked at her, our eyes locked together as I watched the realization of what she had done dance across her face.
“I can still feel your pussy around my cock, troublemaker,” it hissed, and my body obeyed, moving in ways I hadn’t commanded.
“And now he can, too.” And fuck, I really could.
Fuck! I could feel it and I couldn’t understand how I could feel and know these things.
I was drawn to her, magnetized by her fear, by the desperate way she clutched herself, by the deep clawing of her fingers against my skin.
Every instinct told me to stop, to pull back, but the other presence…
it urged forward. My own desires became tangled, corrupted, and impossible to separate from its.
“Fuck you!” she spat. Her hair whipped around her face as she struggled, her breath ragged, and somewhere deep, I recognized the pull: the fear that made her flesh electric, the terror that made her skin ache, the frantic energy that made every muscle in my body strain toward her.
She finally fought her way out of my grip and stumbled further into the room, barely managing to put space between us before I was upon her again.
My hands gripped her arms, nowhere close to being gentle.
The grip was possessive, furious, alive with the spirit’s dark intent, but beneath it, there was a part of me, the real me, trembling with the weight of what we were becoming.
The forbidden hunger that had nothing to do with right or wrong.
“Stay,” the voice rasped through me, harsh, mocking, and intoxicating.
“You try to deny me, Elena, but we both know…We all know who you belong to.” Her wide eyes met mine, and I saw it all there: the dread, the heat, the desperate, chaotic need she couldn’t name.
I felt it too, it was twisted, and corrupted by the presence that ruled me now.
She screamed and the sound ignited a spark of some kind of twisted, chaotic pleasure inside me, the kind that belonged to fear and heat intertwined.
I should have stopped, and a part of me did, clawing at the edges of consciousness, and fighting to reclaim control, but the possession laughed, a throaty, low, and cruel sound.
It whispered in my ear, into my bones, and into the space between heartbeats.
“You’re mine to use, mine to want…mine to unravel. ”
Then it focused us back on her. Her struggles were futile, her breath ragged, and as she twisted to get away, I could feel the dark satisfaction, the intoxicating wrongness of every moment.
Her panic fueled the possession’s strength, and even as I glimpsed at the real me, trapped beneath the surface, I understood one haunting undeniable truth: the entity might be in control, but something about this, wanting her, hunting her down until she submitted completely, was exactly what I wanted… needed even.
“Feeling you like this, baby…” I stopped, realizing the last word wasn’t the spirit’s, it was mine. I had said that, and I could almost feel it smile inside me. Like it mocked me for being just like Elena, fighting when deep down, this was what I wanted.
I could hear the candle flames flicker and hiss as we moved, her heartbeat pounding in sync with mine.
Her scent filled me, and the adrenaline and terror made the air charged.
In that moment, I knew, with a certainty, that I would chase her forever if the spirit allowed it.
I longed for her, under the possession, the dark hunger, the chaos.
I wanted her, wanted to keep her safe, keep her alive.
But that part was buried, trapped under layers of something dark, and impossibly hungry.
“Run…run, brave girl. Run because I love the smell of your fear and need mixed together.” My voice came out of me, laced with a sound that didn’t belong to mine.
She ran, and fuck me, I pursued her. The world became nothing but heat, fear and desire, twisting into something so wrong it felt undeniably, and hauntingly right.
She ran to the back of the bed, trying to use the thing as a shield, and I could see the fear in her eyes; wide, trembling, raw…
and yet, something beneath it all shifted, something darker, almost… inviting.
“Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me?” she asked, and I just watched her sorry attempt at protection.
“Oh, Elena…” I moved toward the circle. “I want everything that you are, and tonight…I will take as I have been taking.”
“Why…” She shook her head, and I could almost feel her pain.
“Because, my brave, brave girl…you will give it to me. Beg me to take it,” I smirked.
I watched her as she tried to look for a way out, my senses drowning in her panic, her hesitation, her desperate attempts to fight.
And yet, her pulse thrummed with something else; a shiver of anticipation, a raw edge beneath the terror that told me she wasn’t entirely repelled.
She wanted to resist, she wanted to flee, but somewhere in that resistance, she wanted more, so much more.
Then slowly, my hands moved, pointing toward her like a puppet on strings, but instead of my body moving with it, she did.
I clenched my fist shut, and I watched as her body mimicked it, standing in a stiff position.
I saw her try to fight it but she couldn’t move, except her eyes that bore shock, fear, and confusion.
The spirit was still in me, yet somehow, controlling Elena through me.
I moved her, the movement of my hand guiding her until she was kneeling and perfectly centered in the circle of red flames.
Her hands trembled against her thighs, her gaze flickering from the candles to me, trying to reconcile what was happening to her.
But I could feel it, smell it, almost even taste how wet she was becoming.
With each second of my control over her, we both got tangled in a tight knot of desire neither of us could untangle.
“Perfect…” I said, as I stepped into the circle with her.
“Please…” she whispered so faintly, with a tone that sounded foreign. I didn’t need to be told that she wasn’t begging for this to stop…she was pleading for something else.
I bent to her level, wrapping my palms around her throat until her eyes were locked with mine, and it felt like seeing into her soul through a lens. “For being a troublemaker, I will make you beg for my cock, beg till you taste what madness can feel like.”
Her lips parted slightly, and I felt it, the tiniest hint of surrender, like a current running beneath the fear.
It was intoxicating, wrong, dark, and utterly irresistible.
I sensed how it mirrored mine and the battle I was waging against the possession itself.
Each inch of control I exerted over her, each subtle command of movement, was a negotiation with her mind, a silent dialogue with the part of her that didn’t want to give in, and the bigger part that already did.
“You will obey, Elena. You will surrender, and we? We will take you, use you, fuck you until you never let go of life until your very end,” it gritted through my teeth, and I watched her, waiting for her to try and fight this, what I was saying to her, implying…
but as she let more tears run down her eyes, I knew neither of us would be the same after this.
“I will obey…” she whispered, so faintly I almost missed it, and my cock twitched at the admission. “I will surrender…” she said again, more tears running down her cheeks. “I will let you take me.”
All my restraint snapped. I pulled her toward me and slammed her mouth into mine. The painful, violent, yet consuming kiss sucked the breath out of my lungs. Our tongues mixed with her salty tears, and a slimy, gooey feeling that made everything go still.
She had surrendered, to the last shred of what made her want to fight. She was finally accepting the parts of her that wanted this, me, the being inside of me. And nothing in my entire life felt so erotic, so raw, and so pure. It became the only truth I will ever know.
“Please,” she said as my teeth dug deep into her lip, drawing blood.
I swallowed it, the copper and salt taste our kiss had created. I gulped it down and went in for more, my grip around her neck only getting tighter, stopping her from breathing anything that wasn’t the sin our tongues created.
“Please what, baby?” I said, this time…it was me who was speaking.
“Please use me, fuck me…I want it to end,” she pleaded, her face turning red in the light, the heat in-between her legs getting hotter than anything else.
Fuck she was beautiful, I thought she was the most beautiful being when I first saw her, but now?
Out of breath, close to passing out, bathed in total surrender…
she was something both heaven and hell would fight to worship.
Then it took over again, vengeful, violent. “Open up that mouth, brave girl…we’ll be fucking it until you can’t breathe.”
Fuck me…I couldn’t wait.