The quake.
The light.
The end.
And then?—
He stops.
Everything.
The vibrator clicks off.
His cock slides out.
The absence is so sharp I scream.
“No!”
My body is shaking so violently I nearly collapse.
Tears streak my face. My thighs are soaked. My cunt is clenching around nothing.
Damien kneels behind me, breath steady. Controlled.
Like he planned this all along.
“Not yet.”
His hands roam my body again, gentler now—touching every bruise, every welt, every cut.
Like he’s proud.
Like I’m art.
“You gave me your name,” he says softly. “You gave me your body. Your mind. But that’s not the part that belongs to me.”
I whimper.
“What more could I possibly?—”
His fingers trail down my spine.
Over the wax.
Over the brands.
“Say it.”
I blink. Shake. Collapsing forward slightly, my cheek presses against the mirror. Tears, spit, and blood smeared my reflection.
“Say what?”
He pulls my hair until I’m upright again.
His lips at my ear.
Voice like a god whispering damnation:
