Chapter 185
Grace squeezed her eyes shut, trembling violently. She turned her face away, unwilling to look at him or answer this even more humiliating question.
Her silence only brought her more torment from Damian.
His fingers returned to that patch of soaked white cotton.
This time, he didn't use that broad grinding motion from before. Instead, he used just one finger, precisely locating her most sensitive spot—her clitoris.
Then, through the fabric, he used his fingertip to draw circles on it with moderate pressure.
The desire that had just barely subsided in Grace flared up again instantly.
Grace's body tensed uncontrollably, her waist instinctively arching upward to meet his finger's movements.
"Answer me." His voice was right by her ear. "What do you want?"
His hand didn't stop, even speeding up a little.
That thin layer of fabric became the most tormenting barrier. Each friction brought a sharp yet blurred wave of pleasure.
Grace bit her own lip, tasting a faint metallic flavor.
She didn't speak.
So he stopped moving his finger.
That rising pleasure was suspended in mid-air once again.
The emptiness and heat inside her body nearly drove her crazy.
Unable to bear it, she twisted her body slightly, trying to find some remaining comfort from his still finger.
This small movement pleased Damian.
He chuckled softly and moved his hand away from there.
Grace let out a faint moan at the loss of Damian's finger.
The next second, her heart leaped into her throat.
His fingers hooked the edge of her white cotton panties.
Then, slowly, bit by bit, he peeled them off her body.
The soaked fabric stuck to her skin, making soft sounds as he moved it.
That final barrier was gradually being stripped away.
Her vagina was exposed completely to his gaze, without any protection.
Grace flushed pink all over with shame. She wanted to close her legs, but her knees were firmly held down by him, unable to move.
He didn't enter right away.
He just looked, admiring her beautiful vagina.
Then he extended two fingers toward that wet area.
His fingertips became coated with the fluid her body had secreted.
He didn't probe directly into her vagina. Instead, using those slick fingertips, he gently stroked back and forth on her clitoris, which stood erect from arousal.
"Ah..."
Grace's whole body jerked violently, her body convulsing sharply.
This direct touch, without any barrier, brought stimulation several times stronger than before through the fabric.
"Now, tell me," he leaned down, his lips almost touching hers, hot breath spraying on her face, "what do you want?"
His fingers, matching his question, pressed a bit harder, circling and pressing.
Pleasure shot through her entire body like an electric current.
Grace's rationality was crumbling.
She knew that if she didn't give him the answer he wanted today, he would keep tormenting her this way.
Tears slid from her tightly closed eyes again.
Her lips trembled, opening a crack, and broken words escaped her lips between sobs.
"I want you."
Damian's eyes instantly grew darker.
He seemed very satisfied with this answer.
But he didn't stop there.
His finger finally left her clitoris that he'd been tormenting for so long, slowly moving downward. He found that tightly closed, soft vaginal opening.
His fingertip just circled lightly at the entrance, showing no intention of going in.
"Who am I?" he asked his second question.
Grace's whole body stiffened.
The movement of his finger stopped.
He looked at her, patiently waiting for her answer.
It was unspoken coercion.
Grace trembled. She knew what he wanted to hear.
"...Damian." She squeezed out this answer through gritted teeth in humiliation.
"Say it again." He commanded.
"Damian." Her voice was louder this time, laced with resentment.
He didn't seem to care about her hatred.
He just smiled, then his finger, without warning, probed a little into her vagina.
Just a little bit, about an inch.
The extremely wet inner walls were stretched open, bringing a slight foreign sensation.
"Look at me," he commanded, his other hand gripping her chin, forcing her to open her eyes and face him. "Who am I?"
Grace was forced to open her eyes.
In her vision was his gaze looking down at her with absolute control.
His finger, inside her body, gently rotated.
That unfamiliar feeling made Grace gasp.
"...It's Damian." She finally surrendered, answering in a sob-filled voice.
Only then was he satisfied.
His finger didn't go deeper into her vagina, but withdrew, bringing out a glistening wetness.
He leaned down, replacing his finger with his penis.
Damian's burning, hard penis pressed against her softest, wettest vaginal opening.
He didn't go in right away.
He just used the head to grind slowly at the opening, letting her feel the shape and heat of his penis.
His hips thrust slightly forward, using that large head to rub back and forth between her most sensitive folds.
Grace twisted her waist restlessly, the emptiness inside her body almost consuming her.
"Open your eyes, look at me." His voice carried an unquestionable command.
Grace trembled and slowly opened her eyes.
"Tell me," he asked while using the head to bump against that closed vaginal opening with moderate force, "what is this?"
Grace bit her lip, too ashamed to speak.
So he thrust his hips forward hard with his penis.
Damian's huge head instantly forced its way in a little.
Grace's tight vagina was forcibly stretched open, bringing a satisfying fullness.
"Ah..." she cried out.
"Say it." He demanded, not going any further, just staying there, making her feel the pain of being stretched.
"...It's yours." She closed her eyes, tears sliding down again.
"Who am I?" He seemed unsatisfied with this answer and went in a bit more.
A deeper tearing sensation came.
"...It's Damian's." She finally broke down, answering in a sob-filled voice.
Only then did he let out a satisfied low laugh.
He stopped tormenting her, with a thrust of his hips to completely insert his entire penis into Grace's vagina.
The moment her vagina was completely filled, Grace gasped. She felt as though she might be torn apart.
His penis stopped at the deepest part of her vagina, not moving. Making her fully, forcibly, feel the presence of his penis.
His hands weren't idle either.
One hand covered her breast, palm wrapping around that erect nipple, kneading with moderate pressure.
On the other hand, interlacing fingers with hers, pressing her hand beside the pillow, not letting her struggle.
"Do you feel it?" he asked by her ear.