Chapter 259 I was walking in as his
Aria’s POV
Damian’s hands clamped on my hips, thumbs digging in, and then his mouth was on me—no teasing, no slow build. Just heat. Wet. Direct.
His tongue dragged up through my folds in one long, firm stroke, and my whole body jerked. A broken sound tore out of my throat.
He did it again, slower, spreading me open with his thumbs so he could taste everything.
I was already drenched; I could feel how slick I was against his mouth, how shamelessly wet I’d gotten from nothing but his hands and his voice.
"Damian—"
He growled against my clit. The vibration shot straight up my spine. Then he sealed his lips around that swollen little bundle of nerves and sucked.
My head knocked back against the mirror. The glass was cold; his mouth was scorching.
My vision went white at the edges. It was too much—too direct, too filthy, the wet sounds of him working me obscenely loud in the quiet bedroom.
His tongue flicked hard and fast over my clit while he sucked, and my thighs started shaking so badly I would’ve slid down the front of the dresser if he weren’t holding me up.
I felt empty and aching lower down, clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
Every pull of his mouth made that emptiness worse. Heat coiled tight and mean low in my belly. My fingers fisted in his hair, not sure if I was dragging him closer or just trying to survive it.
"Oh God—don’t stop—fuck—"
He didn’t. He licked lower, tongue pushing into me, fucking me with it in short, filthy thrusts before dragging back up to my clit and attacking it again. My pulse hammered between my legs.
I could feel how swollen I was, how every nerve there had gone raw and hypersensitive.
When he slid two thick fingers into me without warning and curled them hard against that spot inside while his mouth stayed locked on my clit, my knees buckled.
The orgasm didn’t build. It detonated. Pleasure ripped through me so sharp and sudden I cried out, raw and loud, hips jerking helplessly against his face.
My cunt clenched hard around his fingers in wave after wave. He kept licking me through it—slower, but relentless—until I was whimpering and oversensitive and half-sobbing his name.
Only then did he pull back. His mouth was shiny. His eyes were almost black.
He made a sound low in his throat—half growl, half groan—and stood, lifting me onto the dresser in one motion.
Bottles rattled. Something tipped and rolled off onto the carpet. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct.
I heard his zipper, the shove of fabric, and then I felt him—thick and hard and blunt—notching against my entrance.
"Hold on to me."
I barely had time to grip his shoulders before he pushed inside in one deep, claiming thrust.
I cried out, back slamming against the mirror.
He was huge—stretching me open around that thick length, filling me so completely the burn mixed with the aftershocks still fluttering through me.
I could feel every inch of him dragging against walls still sensitive from his tongue and fingers. Full. So full I could barely breathe. But God, it felt good. So good I wanted to scream.
"That’s it," he growled against my throat. "Take all of me."
He moved—slow at first, letting me adjust to the stretch, then harder, faster, each thrust driving deep enough that I felt it in my stomach. The dresser shook under us. The wet sound of him fucking into me was filthy.
I clung to him, nails raking down his back, and felt something wild and desperate building in my chest again—tighter, hotter, almost painful.
"Damian—I’m—"
"I know." His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit again, still slick from his mouth. He rubbed tight, ruthless circles. "Come for me, Aria. Let me feel you."
The second orgasm hit like lightning—sharper than the first, devastating, so intense I couldn’t even scream.
I just shook, every muscle locking up as my cunt clamped down hard around his cock, milking him in helpless pulses. Pleasure crashed through me in waves until I was gasping against his shoulder, completely wrecked.
Damian buried his face in my neck, growling low, and I felt him pulse inside me—hot and deep and claiming—as he came with his cock buried to the hilt.
For a long moment we just stayed there, both of us breathing hard, tangled together against the dresser. I could feel him still twitching inside me, the slow drip of him starting to slip out around where we were joined. My legs were useless. My whole body felt marked.
Then he pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes still dark but softer now.
"Now," he murmured, brushing his thumb along my swollen bottom lip, "every wolf in that room will know you’re mine."
I couldn’t even argue. My legs felt like jelly. My brain had completely short-circuited.
He set me down carefully, steadying me when my knees wobbled, and pressed a kiss to my temple.
"Go show them what you’re made of, little wolf."
I managed to pull myself together—barely—and got dressed again with shaking hands. My suit was wrinkled now, my hair a mess, and I could still feel the heat of him between my legs.
Perfect.
I grabbed my portfolio, checked my reflection one last time, and headed for the door.
But I paused at the threshold, glancing back.
Damian stood watching me, arms crossed, that smug, satisfied smirk on his face.
"I’m still mad at you," I said.
"I know."
"This doesn’t mean I’m letting you come to the next one."
"We’ll see."
I rolled my eyes and walked out before I changed my mind.
But as I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I couldn’t help the small, secret smile tugging at my lips.
Rick was waiting by the car, tablet in hand, looking every bit the efficient Beta.
He took one look at me and his expression went carefully blank.
"Luna Aria."
"Rick."
"Your... hair is slightly disheveled."
I smoothed it down quickly, cheeks burning. "Traffic was bad."
"Of course." He opened the car door, face utterly professional. "Shall we?"
I slid into the backseat, trying desperately to ignore the knowing glint in his eyes.
God, wolves and their noses.
As the car pulled away from the curb, I caught sight of Damian standing at my apartment window, watching.
And despite everything—despite the nerves, despite the pressure, despite the fact that I was about to walk into a room full of predators—I felt safe.
Because I wasn’t walking in alone anymore.
I was walking in as his.