CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
“You can’t hide from me,” he whispers. “I’ll always know where you are. Always.”
I hate how his words make something in my chest ache, like I want to believe him even though I know it’s wrong. He drags his lips down my neck, sucking another bruise into my skin, marking me all over again.
“You’ll never get rid of me,” he promises, his hands slipping under my shirt, fingers tracing over my ribs. “Because you don’t really want to. You want me to catch you every time. To remind you that you’re mine, no matter how far you try to run.”
My breathing hitches, and I feel the fight slipping out of me, replaced by something darker, deeper, rooted in the need I can’t shake. He smirks, sensing the shift, and kisses me again, harder this time, his hands bruising my skin.
“You’ll come back to me every time,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Because you’re addicted to the way I break you.”
And as much as I want to deny it, I know he’s right because no matter how far I run, I know I’ll never escape the way he makes me feel—alive, terrified, and irrevocably his.
His hands are relentless, gripping my thighs so tight I can feel the bruises forming. Damien’s lips crash against mine, rough and consuming, like he’s trying to remind me—brand me with every kiss. I can’t think, can’t breathe, and he’s not giving me a second to find my footing.
I try to twist away, but he just presses me harder against the wall, his hips pinning mine, his mouth dragging down my neck, teeth grazing over the fresh bruises he left earlier.
My legs still wrap around his waist, and I hate how natural it feels, as if my body already knows how to fit against his.
“You keep running,” he whispers, his voice low and furious. “But you don’t get it, do you? You’re mine now. You don’t get to choose anymore.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and wild, like he’s barely holding himself together. His thumb brushes over my swollen lips, wiping away the blood he drew earlier, and his gaze softens for a moment—just a flicker, like he’s fighting something darker.
But it doesn’t last. His hand slides down, slipping under my shirt, fingers tracing the line of my ribs, making me shiver. He leans in, his mouth brushing over my jaw, biting down just hard enough to make me gasp.
“You made me chase you,” he growls, his lips moving against my skin. “You made me hunt you through that fucking crowd, and I couldn’t think of anything except dragging you back and reminding you who you belong to.”
His grip on my wrists tightens, pinning them against the wall above my head, his other hand moving to my hip, squeezing hard. I can feel the tension thrumming through him, like he’s barely holding back from tearing me apart.
“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “You don’t get how much I need to make sure you don’t forget—how much I want to break anyone who even looks at you.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my breathing steady, but it’s impossible. His words wrap around my mind, sinking in like thorns, and I can’t tell if I want to shove him away or pull him closer.
“You think you can fight me?” he sneers, his teeth scraping over my collarbone. “But I’ve already won. You gave in last night. You begged for me. You can’t take that back.”
My cheeks burn, and I shake my head, but he just smirks, leaning in to bite down on my shoulder, hard enough to make me yelp.
“That’s it,” he taunts. “Scream for me. Remind me how much you need it.”
His hand moves lower, gripping my thigh, pulling me against him, and I can’t help the way my body responds—arching into his touch, my breath hitching. I hate that he’s right. I hate that I’m still drawn to him even after everything.
He drags his lips over my neck, his tongue flicking out to soothe the bite, and I shiver, trapped between wanting to push him away and wanting more.
“I saw the way you looked at me last night,” he murmurs. “Like you didn’t know whether to kiss me or stab me. That’s what I love about you, Raven. You’re a beautiful mess, just waiting to be broken.”
I try to pull my wrists free, but he just tightens his grip, forcing my arms higher, stretching me out against the wall. His eyes blaze with a dark, hungry light, and he presses his hips against mine, grinding just enough to make me gasp.
“You think you can just leave?” he taunts, his voice low and dangerous. “After I spent months making sure you were mine? You think I’ll just let you slip away?”
He kisses me again, hard and bruising, his tongue forcing its way past my lips, claiming me all over again. I can’t hold back the whimper, and he swallows it greedily, his hand slipping up to tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to make me tilt my head back.
“You’ll never be free of me,” he whispers, his mouth brushing over my pulse. “Because you don’t want to be. You like the way I make you feel. You love knowing you’re caught.”
His hands slide under my shirt, pushing it up, exposing more skin to the chilly night air. His lips trail down, biting and sucking, leaving marks that burn and throb. I can feel his possessiveness in every touch, like he’s trying to mark every inch of me.
“You could have screamed for help,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth over my collarbone. “Back there in the parade. You could have begged someone to save you. But you didn’t.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep silent, but he notices, and his hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing, just holding—reminding me who’s in control.
“You’re not fooling anyone,” he growls. “You wanted me to find you. You wanted me to catch you. You just didn’t want to admit it.”
His hand trails down my body, slipping under the waistband of my pants, and I can’t help the way my hips buck against his touch. He smirks, his thumb brushing over my clit, slow and teasing.
“Look at you,” he purrs. “Already soaked. You’re pathetic. Pretending to hate it when your body’s begging for more.”
I gasp, trying to twist away, but he holds me steady, his grip firm but not painful. He leans in, his lips brushing over mine, his voice dark and soft.
“I’m never letting you go,” he whispers. “You belong to me now. And I’ll remind you every single day if I have to.”
My mind spins, and I can’t think past the way his touch sets my skin on fire. I hate him. I hate him for making me feel like this—for making me want something so twisted and wrong.
But deep down, I know I’ll never be able to break free.
Even now, with his hands on me, his mouth claiming mine, I can’t stop wanting more.
And he knows it.
He knows he’s already won.
My body betrays me—arching into his touch, even as my mind screams to get away.
Damien doesn’t miss a single reaction, his eyes glinting with a dark, triumphant satisfaction.
He presses me harder against the wall, his fingers digging into my waist, holding me there like I might vanish if he loosens his grip.
“You keep fighting me,” he whispers, his lips dragging down my neck, biting and sucking until I know he’s leaving marks. “But you know it’s pointless. I’m not letting you go. I’ll never let you go.”
I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the way his touch lights my skin on fire. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my legs wider, and I can’t help the way my breath catches.
He tilts my head back, his mouth capturing mine in a brutal, consuming kiss, his teeth scraping my lips until I taste blood. I try to twist free, but he just smirks against my mouth, one hand still wrapped around my throat, keeping me pinned.
“You can fight all you want,” he taunts, his voice low and rough. “It just makes it sweeter when you give in.”
I turn my head to the side, gasping for air, and he doesn’t let up—dragging his lips down to my collarbone, biting down hard enough to make me cry out. His hand slides under my shirt, pushing it up, exposing my ribs to the cool air.
His fingertips trace over the bruises he left earlier, and he hums, pleased.
“You’re marked up so pretty,” he murmurs, pressing his thumb to one of the darker spots. “I want everyone to see how I claimed you.”
A shiver runs through me, and I hate that it’s not entirely from fear. My body now automatically responds to his touch because it is too used to it, as if someone trained it to crave him.
He leans down, kissing the bruise softly, almost tender, and it makes my stomach twist because I don’t know how to reconcile the way he switches between violent and gentle.
“You ran from me,” he growls suddenly, his teeth grazing my throat. “You made me chase you through that fucking crowd. You made me lose my goddamn mind, thinking you were slipping away.”
I try to push him back, but he catches my wrists again, pressing them against the wall, his body pinning mine.
“You don’t get to leave,” he snarls, his voice raw. “Not after I gave you everything. Not after you screamed my name like you couldn’t breathe without me.”
His lips are on mine again, bruising and desperate, and I can’t help the way I kiss him back—hating myself for it even as I do.
He notices, of course, and his smirk returns, his hands sliding down to my thighs, lifting me higher up against his body.
“That’s right,” he whispers, dragging his tongue over my jaw.
“You’re done pretending. You belong right here, wrapped around me, begging for more. ”
I say nothing, but he doesn’t need me to. His hands slip under my waistband, fingers brushing over my soaking pussy, and I can’t hold back the whimper that breaks free.
“Already soaked again,” he taunts, his breath hot against my neck. “You’re addicted to it. To me. No point in denying it anymore.”
His fingers slide inside, and I bite back a moan, my body arching into his touch despite my mind screaming at me to resist. He pumps his fingers slowly, making me feel every inch, and his other hand moves to my throat, holding me still.
My hands are free, I could escape but as I feel his fingers curling inside my pussy making the gasps to rip from my throat my hands slide around his neck, nails digging into his neck.
“You think running will change this?” he whispers, his lips brushing over mine. “You think I’ll ever stop chasing you? You’re mine, Raven. You can run a hundred times, and I’ll drag you back every single time.”
My breathing is ragged, and I can’t stop the way my body responds—hips rocking against his hand, thighs squeezing his waist. He grins, satisfied, and bites down on my shoulder, leaving another dark mark.
“You make me crazy,” he growls. “You make me want to break everyone who looks at you. I want to tie you up and make sure you never even think about leaving again.”
He doesn’t even warn me, he removes his hand and I sob feeling empty.
“See, baby, you fucking need this.” I want to say ‘no.’ I want to say ‘fuck you.’ I want to…
but I can’t say anything. Think of anything other the loss I feel from him removing his hand from my pussy. “What’s wrong, baby.” He taunts.
My pussy is clenching around nothing, sharp tremors shoot through my body, desperate to feel something…anything. “Please, Damian.” I cry while rocking my body against his.
I feel him raise my body higher, the sound of the zip on his jeans is the only thing I can hear, he slides his throbbing cock between my pussy lips sliding up and down, torturing me even more. “Please.” I gasp.
“What do you want?” He smirks teasing his thick head near my entrance letting only the tip slide in.
“If you don’t use your words like a big girl.
” He circles the tip just at my entrance driving me fucking insane.
“You don’t get to cum. You want to cum don’t you.
” I nod my head. “You want to soak my fucking cock don’t you? ”
“Fuck. Yes, please...Damian.”
“Please what?” He smirks.
“Pease fuck me. I need it. I need it.” I cry desperately. “I need you.”
His cock slams into me and the scream tears from my body, he pushes his hand across my mouth, my screams are muffled but my pussy tightens around his cock with every thrust. His other hand digs into my hip bruising.
His cock throbs deep inside of me, thrusting harder, my screams rip from my throat getting swallowed by his hand, I’m so fucking close, I can feel my pussy dripping all over his cock.
He leans his face close to mine the warmth of his breath hits my skin. “If hell had a favourite sound, it would be your scream under my hand.” He whispers and I almost cum just from his words that still ghost across my skin.
I shudder, half from fear, half from the way his words sink under my skin, wrapping around the part of me that craves his obsession.
“Say it,” he demands, his thumb brushing over my clit, making my legs tremble. “Say you’re mine.”
I try to look away, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Say it,” he repeats, his tone darker, more dangerous.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
His eyes burn with satisfaction, and he crashes his mouth against mine, biting down hard, his cock thrusting deeper, faster. I can’t think, can’t breathe, just drowning in the way he’s taking me apart.
“That’s right,” he growls against my mouth. “You’ll never get away. You’ll never escape me. And you don’t really want to.”
He pulls back just enough to watch my face as his thrusts move faster, drawing out every sound, every twitch of my body, like he’s memorising how to break me perfectly.
I can’t hold back the sob that escapes when I finally shatter, my body clenching around his cock, and he doesn’t stop, dragging out every wave of pleasure until I’m a trembling mess in his arms.
He wipes the tear from my cheek with his thumb, leaning in to kiss me softly, like he’s savouring the victory.
“You’ll never run from me again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. “Because you know I’ll always catch you.”