Chapter 60 Chapter 60
DAMON'S POV
A small, broken sound escaped Clara's throat, a mix of a whimper and a sob. Her entire body was rigid on my lap, a trapped bird feeling the first squeeze of the predator’s talons. I didn’t move my hands from her hips, just let the heat of my touch move through her thin maid’s uniform, branding her.
“You’re going to stay very still,” I murmured, my voice low and devoid of any warmth. It was a command, not a suggestion.
She nodded, a frantic little jerk of her head, her eyes screwed shut as if she could wish herself away. That wouldn’t do. I wanted her to see. I wanted her to watch the monster in me.
I shifted my grip, one hand moving to the back of her neck, not hard, but with enough pressure to make her gasp. I forced her to look at me. Her eyes were swimming with terrified tears.
“Open your eyes,” I said. “Look at me.”
She did.
The fear in them was a drug, sharp and clean, washing away the frustration about Anna, and about Elijah,
My other hand went to the front of her dress. I didn’t bother with buttons. I grabbed the neckline and tore it. The sound of ripping fabric was loud in the quiet room. She cried out, a short, sharp scream, as her small, pale breasts were exposed to the cool air. They were perfect, high and round, with tight, pink nipples that were already pebbling from fear and the chill.
I palmed one, my touch rough, and she flinched violently. “P-please,” she begged, her voice trembling.
“Please what?” I asked, my tone bored as I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. It was a cruel, clinical motion. “You wanted to thank me. This is how.”
I leaned forward and closed my mouth over the other breast, sucking the nipple hard, biting down just enough to make her cry out again. Her hands came up to push at my shoulders, a weak, futile resistance that only fed the fire in me. I liked it. I liked that she tried and failed.
After a moment, I lifted my head. “Stand up.”
She scrambled off my lap, clutching the torn fabric of her dress to her chest, her whole body shaking. She looked lost, surrounded by the ruin of my room.
“Take the rest of it off,” I commanded, leaning back against the wall, crossing my arms. “All of it.”
Her eyes widened in fresh horror. “A-Alpha, I…”
“Now.”
Tears streamed down her face now, silent and hopeless. With trembling fingers, she let the torn dress fall to the floor. Then, her underwear followed. She stood before me, completely naked, her arms wrapped around herself in a pathetic attempt to hide. Her body was slender, with soft curves and smooth skin. Perfect for breaking.
“Turn around,” I said. “Bend over. Hold onto the bedpost.”
She hesitated for a single, heart-stopping second. My gaze hardened. That was all it took. She moved quickly, turning her back to me, bending at the waist until her hands were gripping the carved wood of the bedpost. Her back was arched, her round, pale ass presented to me. The sight of her pussy, pink and bare and vulnerable, from behind sent a jolt of raw hunger through me.
I undid my pants, freeing my cock. It was already hard, thick and eager. I didn’t prepare her. I didn’t care. The pain was part of the point. I stepped up behind her, one hand gripping her hip so hard I knew it would bruise.
“Please,” she sobbed again, her face pressed against the bedpost. “It’s my first time… it will hurt…”
I leaned over her, my mouth close to her ear. “I know,” I whispered, the words dark and cold. “I want it to hurt.”
And with that, I shoved myself into her, one brutal, deep thrust.
Her scream was not one of pleasure. It was a raw, tearing sound of pure agony. Her whole body seized up, her nails digging into the wood of the bedpost. She was impossibly tight, her virgin body clenching around me in a desperate, futile attempt to reject the invasion. The feeling was exquisite. The proof of her pain was a balm to my anger.
I didn’t wait for her to adjust. I didn’t care. I started to fuck her.
I set a punishing rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into her to the hilt. Each thrust forced another choked cry from her lips. The sound of our bodies slapping together, of her ragged sobs, filled the destroyed room. This was what I needed. This was real. This was a body under my complete control, a life I could shatter with my cock.
“You belong to me,” I growled into her ear, my breath hot against her skin as I pounded into her. “This pussy is mine to use. Your pain is mine to enjoy. Do you understand?”
She couldn’t answer. She could only sob and gasp, her body jolting with every thrust.
I reached around her front, my fingers finding her clit. I rubbed it, not to give her pleasure, but to overwhelm her senses further, to mix the sharp pain with a forced, shameful sensation. She whimpered, a confused, broken sound.
“You’re getting wet for me,” I mocked her, feeling the slickness of her body mixing with the evidence of her torn flesh. “Your body betrays you, little maid. It knows its master.”
I fucked her harder, faster, driving her head Ee. Her body was starting to respond, to betray her terror. Her inner muscles fluttered around my cock, and her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk back against me.
“That’s it,” I snarled, my own release building like a storm. “Take it. Take my cock!”
I slipped a hand into her hair, yanking her head back, arching her spine painfully. The new angle made me go even deeper. She let out a long, guttural moan. Her body was no longer fighting. It was surrendering, yielding completely to the sex. She was getting fucked so thoroughly that her mind had gone blank, leaving only the wild sensation.
I felt my climax coiling in my gut. With a final, brutal thrust, I buried myself deep inside her and came, a hot, rushing release that pulsed into her core. A ragged shout was torn from my own throat, a sound of pure, dark triumph.
For a moment, the only sounds were our harsh, panting breaths. I stayed inside her, my body pressed against her back, my hand still fisted in her hair. The dark fire inside me was banked, sated for a moment.
Then, I pulled out of her.
She collapsed forward onto the bed, a limp, used doll. She was crying softly, her body trembling with the aftershocks. I turned her onto her back. She didn’t resist. Her eyes were glazed, empty. She was broken.
And she was beautiful.
I leaned over her, my body caging hers. The scent of her blood, of sex, of fear, was intoxicating. My fangs elongated, a sharp, familiar pressure in my gums. She saw them. A flicker of understanding returned to her deadened eyes. A fresh wave of terror. “N-no please don't bite me…” she pleaded, her voice hoarse from screaming.
“Shhh,” I said, the sound almost gentle.
It was the cruelest thing I could have done. I brushed the hair away from her neck, exposing the delicate, blue-veined skin. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, a frantic, dying bird.
“You served me well, Clara. It's time for me to put you to sleep permanently...” I murmured against her skin.
Then I struck.