Chapter 33: No Escape From The Devil (R18+)
Ana’s pride screamed at her to fight him, but her body was already a traitor. The alcohol, the heat, and the sheer, terrifying weight of his presence had burned away every last shred of her resistance.
Before she could force out a word of denial, Damian grabbed her beneath her thighs and hoisted her upward against the marble wall with effortless, brutal strength.
Ana gasped, her instinct kicking in as her legs automatically wrapped around his broad torso to keep from falling. Damian didn’t waste a second. He crashed his lips onto hers with a fierce, possessive hunger, battling her tongue with a dark, suffocating intensity that stole the remaining air straight out of her lungs.
His mouth shifted, trailing down her jawline to her exposed throat. He bit down gently on her sensitive skin... just hard enough to leave a mark... making Ana arch her back with a soft, desperate whimper.
With one swift, practiced motion, his large hand ripped open the top buttons of her blouse. The delicate fabric parted, exposing her silk bra. Damian snapped the front clasp open without breaking his stride, exposing her fully to the cool air of the lavatory.
Then he attacked her breasts.
Ana’s breath hitched into a sharp scream as his mouth closed over her sensitive, aching peak. He gave her most sensitive areas the absolute, relentless attention she had been denied all morning... sucking, nipping, and pulling with a hot, agonizing pressure that sent jolts of pure electricity straight down to her core.
"Damian... ah!" Ana gasped, her hands clutching frantically at his dark hair, her knuckles turning white as her head fell back against the wall. She was trembling, utterly unraveled by the sheer speed of his assault.
Damian let out a dark, satisfied rumble against her chest, enjoying the way her body shuddered violently under his touch.
Without easing his relentless hold on her, he carried her across the polished floor, striding over to the wide, grand stone sink. He lifted her higher and set her firmly down on top of the cold marble surface, spreading her knees wide as he stepped directly between her legs.
The contrast between the freezing stone beneath her thighs and the blazing, dangerous heat of his body pressing against her was intoxicating.
He didn’t stop tormenting her. Bending her over the vanity, his hands slid beneath her dress, stripping away the thin layer of silk blocking him.
Through her damp, slick entrance, she could feel the thick, rigid length of his fully erect manhood pressing hard against her, teasing her with the promise of absolute, overwhelming destruction.
"Look at me, Anastasia," Damian commanded low in his throat, his dark eyes burning with an unholy light as he pressed his hot, ready length against her aching core. "Tell me who you belong to."
"Yours..." Ana gasped out, her eyes glossy with tears of frustration and unshed desire. Her nails dug into the sleek fabric of his suit jacket as her hips bucked forward on the cold marble vanity, seeking the heat she was so desperately starving for. "I’m yours, Damian... please."
A low, primal growl tore from Damian’s throat. Her complete surrender burned away the last thread of his restraint.
He didn’t waste another second on words. With a single, sharp pull, he adjusted his trousers and angled her hips upward. Holding her pinned to the vanity, he plunged deep inside her in one swift, ruthless thrust.
Ana’s head slammed back against the mirror behind her, a sharp, breathless scream echoing off the soundproof marble walls. She was so slick, so hot and tight around him, that the sheer sensation sent a jolt straight down Damian’s spine.
"Damian...!" She sobbed out, her toes curling as he pulled back almost completely, only to drive himself back inside her with a fierce, punishing rhythm.
The cold stone of the sink was a sharp contrast to the blistering heat where their bodies met. Every wild, heavy thrust shattered whatever remaining dignity Ana had left.
Her hands slid up to clutch at his broad shoulders, her fingers digging desperately into his back... leaving fresh marks over the ones she had made the night before.
Damian’s dark eyes never left her unraveled face. He was relentless, taking her wildly against the vanity, filling her completely until the sound of her frantic whimpers and the harsh slap of their skin echoed through the locked room.
He leaned down, his large hand coming up to cup the back of her neck, bringing his mouth back to hers to swallow her loud, breathless moans.
"You think you can run from me?" Damian growled against her lips, his pacing turning hard, deep, and chaotic. "You don’t get to escape me, Anastasia. Ever."
Ana couldn’t speak. She was drowning in the overwhelming pleasure, her core clamping down around his thick length with every violent pulse. The build-up was too intense, too sudden, brought on by the alcohol and his merciless touch.
"Damian, I’m... I’m going to..."
"Do it, doll," he commanded low against her ear, driving into her one last time with absolute, unyielding force. "Release for me."
The tight coil in her lower belly snapped. A sharp, loud gasp broke from her lips as a intense wave of pleasure crashed over her, her internal muscles pulsing wildly around him in a tight, convulsive rhythm.
Watching her unravel beneath him drove Damian completely over the edge. With a low, rough groan, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling his hot seed deep inside her as he held her tight against his broad chest, claiming her entirely in the dark, locked room.
Ana’s legs gave out completely the second Damian pulled back, her knees buckling like paper. She clutched at his broad shoulders, her fingers digging desperately into his tailored jacket just to keep herself from sliding down to the wet marble floor.
Her mind was a hazy, chaotic fog, and her body felt entirely broken open, shivering from the aftermath of the intense release.
Damian caught her effortlessly, wrapping one heavy arm around her waist to anchor her against his chest. A dark, arrogant smirk played on his lips as he looked down at her flushed, tear-stained face.
"Your stamina is pathetic, doll," Damian murmured, his deep voice vibrating against her ear. "I could easily go three more rounds right here."
Ana let out a weak, breathy whimper, completely incapable of formulating a response.
Damian leaned down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her swollen lips before adjusting her clothes and pulling her blouse back together. "Get dressed. I’ll carry you home... but don’t think I do favors for free, Anastasia. I’ll be collecting payment for this later."
Ana simply buried her face into the crook of his neck, her forehead resting against his collarbone. She had no fight left in her.
The combination of strong alcohol and intense, forced pleasure was toxic, that left her entirely helpless in his arms.
Damian left the washroom door and walked out into the VIP lounge, holding Ana effortlessly in a full bridal carry. Her head was tucked deeply into the crook of his neck, her legs draped over his arm, completely unraveled and breathless.
As he strode past the velvet booth, Julian and the rest of the group looked up, instantly paralyzed by the sight.
"Whoa, Sterling," Julian said, his jaw practically dropping as he raised an eyebrow at Ana’s state. "Everything okay? What happened?"
"She’s tired," Damian replied flatly, his voice icy and completely closed off. "I’m taking her home."
Without waiting for another word or offering a single explanation, Damian carried his wife straight through the club toward the private exit, her cheek resting over his heartbeat as he took long, deliberate strides out into the night.
Not even two minutes after they disappeared, a couple sat down at the table adjacent to Vivian’s booth, loudly complaining to the floor manager.
"It’s ridiculous!" The woman scoffed angrily, adjusting her dress. "We waited twenty minutes for the VIP lavatory! Someone locked the entire floor, and you could literally hear loud, shameless moans echoing out into the hallway!"
Vivian’s cocktail glass froze halfway to her lips.
Her jaw clenched tight, her eyes widening as the horrific realization crashed over her. Beside her, her two friends exchanged shocked, silent glances.
Vivian set her glass down with a sharp clack, her knuckles turning white as pure, jealous hatred burned wildly behind her eyes.