He plucked the bottle from my hand and set it aside. “Coincidence or not, your knowledge made the difference. Without you, I’d have sold it for a fraction of its true value.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
He rose, swept me into his arms, and carried me toward the bed.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.”
Just as I braced for him to toss me onto the mattress, he stopped. He set me gently on the floor and held my gaze—deep, piercing, stripping me bare. The world fell away. Then he kissed me with an unexpected tenderness, as if he were giving me something sacred through his lips. My thoughts blurred until there was nothing left but heat and the taste of him.
He guided me back onto the bed with gentle insistence. My body trembled beneath him. His next kiss was hungrier, almost desperate, as if he could not get enough. My breath broke into ragged gasps, and I let myself drown in the passion pouring from him.
“I want you all to myself,” he murmured against my lips. “I want you to belong only to me, Daisy Elfhorn.” His fingers found the hem of my dress and slid it up over my breasts. “You’re so damn beautiful.” The hunger for his touch devoured me. So desperate.So all-consuming it terrified me. Yet when he finally touched me, it felt like breathing for the first time. He slipped my panties down.
“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered. Shame rose, but I couldn’t deny him. My body moved before my mind caught up.
“That’s it,” he growled, his tongue teasing over my breasts. Torturously slow, he trailed lower to my navel while one hand stroked across my center. Every touch burned. His fingers sank deep inside me.
“Look at me, Daisy,” he commanded. I trembled as he pushed deeper, his dominance stripping me bare. It should have terrified me, but instead I felt safe in his control.
“Tell me who you belong to from now on,” he demanded, driving me further into madness.
“You,” I gasped, voice ragged. “I belong to you.”
His tongue found my most sensitive spot. My body twitched, every nerve stretched to the limit. I was nothing but a plaything for his desire, and I had never felt more alive. When the climax hit, I cried his name and went completely undone. His mouth pressed hard against me, leaving me scorched with the intensity of his touch. My hips bucked, helpless, and I surrendered to the fire he lit in me.
When I came—hard and trembling—he drank me down. His tongue was greedy, relentless, as if my release belonged only to him. He licked me clean to the last shiver, unwilling to let a single trace escape. Only then did he lift his head, slow and deliberate, as though it cost him something to stop.
“I love how you taste.”
In one fluid motion he stripped off his shirt and pants. Awe and desire crashed over me in a single wave. Damian Miller was a force of nature — untamed, raw power; something primal that swallowed everything in its path. My heart slammed against my ribs as he pinned my wrists above my head, holding them easily with one hand. My muscles tightened under the weight of his dominance. I felt trapped and free at once.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think about anyone else again.”
With one ruthless thrust he filled me — so deep, so hard — that a raw gasp ripped from my throat.
Shock and desire fused into one current, burning through every fiber of me. He was hot, unyielding, carved from stone.
“Do you feel that?” he growled in my ear. “Do you feel how hard I am—without you even touching me?”
His words seared into me, and suddenly I no longer knew where I ended and he began. I was open, straining, hungry. My thoughts dissolved like paper in flame until only one thing remained: him. His thrusts were merciless. Demanding. Each one dragged me closer to the edge. He held me down, not tenderly but with a dark obsession that made me feel achingly alive. One hand pinned my arms to the mattress like an anchor; the other curled around my throat — a silent vow: you belong to me.
My pulse hammered beneath his palm. I closed my eyes and let myself fall into that dark nothing.
“Open your eyes,” he hissed. “I don’t just want you to feel this. I want you to know it’s me making you feel this way.”
His hand tightened. The air thinned. My body arched — resisting, yielding at once. The orgasm tore through me, not quietly but violently, breaking me apart only to remake me. As I shook beneath him, I knew I could never belong to anyone else. Not in body. Not in soul. He was my abyss. I had already jumped.
“Fuck,” he groaned hoarsely as his body stiffened. His thrusts grew rougher, desperate, until he spilled inside me with a guttural sound that shook his chest. I felt him pulsing — hot, relentless — burning into me, filling me. My body clenched around him, desperate to hold him—never let go. It was more than physical. Something of him stayed—darkness, obsession, the whole of him. Damian trembled against me, heavy and warm, locked in the moment. I lay beneath him, wrecked and trembling—yet somehow whole.
Wholeness was a lie. What he gave, he would take back.
Chapter 7 Damian
She slept.
Finally.
