Chapter 50: The Devil’s Promise (R18+)
More?
Before her overwhelmed mind could process his words, he slammed up into her core once again, making her scream out in pure, dizzying pleasure. Her core was over sensitive, raw, and throbbing... she genuinely doubted her body could take any more.
Damian’s lips slammed onto hers, claiming her mouth in a brutal, dominant kiss. His tongue latched onto hers, tasting her completely as his hand locked into the back of her hair, holding her captive to the kiss.
With his other hand gripping her hip, he lifted and slammed her down onto his shaft in a brutal rhythm that allowed her to feel him deeper than ever before.
He reached up, squeezing her breast with heavy, unyielding pressure, completely shattering her remaining composure.
The intense, double-barreled stimulation pushed Ana straight over the precipice... she came right there on his lap, her body trembling violently as he let out a dark, satisfied laugh against her flushed skin.
Burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, Damian thrusted faster and faster until he groaned loudly, reaching his second climax deep inside her.
He pulled back slightly, his thumb tracing her swollen bottom lip as he growled low, "More."
And he didn’t stop.
He kept taking her, over and over, pushing her to the heights of pleasure and surrender until the ink-black night sky outside the penthouse windows began to fade into the soft gray of dawn. She completely lost count after the sixth time.
When the storm finally subsided, the room was bathed in the faint, silvery light of early morning.
The blindfold was gone, and the silk ties binding her wrists had been tossed to the floor. Ana lay completely spent, sprawled across Damian’s broad, bare chest, her body limp with absolute exhaustion.
Damian’s heavy arm rested possessively across her hip, anchoring her to him so tightly that not even a sliver of air could pass between them. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the crown of her head.
Ana’s heavy eyelids fluttered, completely unable to stay open any longer. Wrapped in his heat, smelling his scent, and completely undone by his dominance, she surrendered to the heavy pull of sleep.
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Morning light filtered softly through the sheer linen curtains of the master suite, casting a pale glow across the silk sheets.
Ana stirred awake, every muscle in her body aching with a heavy, satisfying soreness. Her skin felt the lingering memory of the night etched into every inch of her frame.
She tried to sit up, but a warm, heavy arm tightened possessively around her waist, pulling her flush against a solid chest.
Damian was already awake. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her straight into the master bathroom.
"Damian!" She shrieked.
Steam quickly filled the grand marble shower as the hot water cascaded down. Damian set her down beneath the warm spray, crowding her against the smooth tile. He picked up a bar of scented soap and placed it into her hand.
"Wash me," Damian commanded softly, his deep baritone dripping with lazy authority as he rested his hands on the wall on either side of her head, trapping her beneath him.
Ana blushed, her cheeks warming under the hot water. As she stepped closer and smoothed her soapy hands over his broad, muscular shoulders, her eyes caught sight of his back.
Long, deep red scratch marks crisscrossed his skin... silent proof of her absolute undoing from the night before.
She paused, her fingers gently hovering over the inflamed lines. "Does it... does it hurt?" She asked softly, her dark eyes looking up at him with genuine curiosity.
Damian’s lips curved into a dark, wicked smirk. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her wet shell-pink ear. "What will you do if it hurts, Anastasia?"
Ana didn’t reply. Biting her lip, she turned her head away to hide her blushing face, carefully and tenderly washing the soap from his back with a quiet, lingering touch that spoke louder than any words.
A little while later, Ana stood in front of the massive vanity mirror, wrapped tightly in a plush white bath towel as she dried her damp hair with another.
Shadows moved behind her, and suddenly Damian’s large frame materialized in the glass. He stepped up right behind her, his bare, damp chest pressing into her back, caging her between his arms as he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder.
Ana locked eyes with his reflection. In the mirror, she saw his obsidian gaze scanning her body... proudly admiring the faint purplish marks, light bruises, and possessive bites he had left scattered across her delicate collarbones and shoulders.
"About your day off," Damian murmured low, his thumb lightly stroking her hip through the towel. "When do you want it?"
Ana blinked, a soft, rare warmth blooming in her chest. Despite his ruthless nature, he had remembered. "I’ll... I’ll let you know," she whispered back.
Damian pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her neck before pulling away. "Dress quickly. Breakfast is waiting."
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Ten minutes later, dressed in a comfortable cream cashmere sweater and trousers, Ana sat across from Damian at the dining table, sipping hot tea while the butler laid out a spread of fresh fruit and pastries. The quiet serenity between them was fragile, but undeniable.
Until the private elevator doors chimed and burst open.
Valerie marched into the penthouse dining room like a raging tempest, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor. She looked disheveled, her eyes bloodshot with bitter anger and frantic disbelief.
"Valerie?" Damian’s voice went instantly ice-cold as he set his coffee cup down. "What are you doing at my house unannounced?"
Valerie ignored her brother entirely. Her furious, venomous gaze locked straight onto Ana, who sat frozen at the table.
"You liar!" Valerie spat, slamming a thick manila folder of medical documents with Anastasia’s name on it violently onto the dining table, sending coffee cups rattling. "You manipulative, conniving bitch! You actually made up a whole sob story just to ruin my family!"
Ana’s face was drained of color. "Valerie, what are you talking about... Why do you have my medical records?"
"I dug into your life in the old city after the divorce!" Valerie shrieked, her voice shaking with unhinged rage as she pointed a trembling, accusation-filled finger at the spread-out papers.
"I had someone hire an investigator to pull your admission records from the city hospital where you claimed it happened! Look at it, Damian! Her medical files from that entire year are completely clear! There is no record of an ER visit, no treatment, no pregnancy! There was no baby at all! She made the whole tragic story up just to turn you against your own family!"