Chapter 198
Chapter 198
The bed frame creaked and groaned under the force, straining against each impact.
The chain on her ankle clanged against the bedpost with his movements, producing crisp yet desperate sounds.
Grace's consciousness drifted in and out.
She felt like a small boat caught in a violent storm, about to be overwhelmed and destroyed by the crashing waves.
She stared at the huge crystal chandelier on the ceiling, its light stabbing painfully at her eyes.
She remembered many things.
She remembered the first time she saw Damian in the university library. He wore a jersey, a vibrant and handsome young man who seemed to radiate light as he moved through the sunlight.
She remembered gathering her courage to hand him a cup of water, and his silent acceptance.
She remembered their first kiss, his burning lips, and the clean, pleasant scent on his body.
She remembered the hurtful words Damian had said to her.
Those beautiful, painful, sweet, and desperate memories flickered through her mind like scenes from an old film.
Finally, all the images settled on his face, now contorted with lust and anger.
A burning tear slid from the corner of her eye and disappeared into the hair at her temple.
Damian kissed away that tear.
His movements didn't stop, but suddenly became gentle.
He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her lips that she had bitten.
"Grace..." he murmured her name, his voice thick with conflicted anguish, "Why... why are you making me do this?"
Grace didn't answer.
She just stared blankly ahead, tears streaming silently down her face.
Damian gradually stilled and pulled her against him, his heated chest pressed to her back.
"Grace, why do you want to leave me?" he asked, his tone suddenly turning hoarse and pleading from the violent fierceness of moments before, "Please don't leave me, okay?"
Grace said nothing, biting her lip as tears flowed silently.
His burning penis was still inside her. After he stopped moving, the tearing pain in her vagina also stopped, leaving only a slight fullness from being stretched.
The body behind her was burning hot. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and shoulder, his arms wrapped around her from behind, gradually tightening, his murmurs sending warm breath into the hollow of her neck.
"I'm begging you, just stay by my side obediently, always by my side, don't leave, okay?" His voice completely softened, carrying a barely noticeable nasal tone, pleading while leaving wet kisses in the hollow of her neck.
The kisses made Grace's body tremble. Seeming to sense her body's reaction, Damian's penis, inserted from behind, also slowly began to move.
This time, the movements were gentle and slow, as if letting her gradually adjust.
The gentle thrusts made Grace's eyelashes flutter lightly. She hated it, she resisted, she was in pain, she wanted to escape. But at the same time, she couldn't help her body's response to him.
Grace deeply hated herself for this.
The slow and gentle thrusting made Grace's consciousness gradually unable to think, and suppressed sobbing sounds escaped from her mouth.
The sound of crying made Damian's heart ache even more.
"Don't cry, I'll be gentler," he coaxed tenderly, "Stop crying."
With Damian's gentle movements, waves of desire began to drown Grace, and her uncontrollable physical response made her moan softly.
This sound was like a stimulant, making Damian no longer stop but gradually speed up.
He kissed Grace's neck while continuously thrusting from behind.
"Ah..." Grace could no longer hold back and let out moans mixed with sobs.
Time seemed to blur, and amid Grace's broken gasps, Damian released with a deep, satisfied groan.
He didn't leave immediately, still maintaining the same position, pressing all his weight on her. His head was buried in the crook of her neck, his burning breath spraying on her skin.
In the room, only the two people's heavy breathing remained, along with the faint metallic clinking of the ankle chain.
After a long time, Damian finally moved.
He got up from her and scooped her up in his arms.
Grace didn't struggle, letting Damian carry her toward the bathroom.
He placed her in the large bathtub and turned on the shower. Warm water poured down from above, washing over her cold body.
Damian also stepped in.
He picked up the body wash, squeezed it into his palm, and then began silently and carefully cleaning her body.
His movements were gentle and patient.
He washed the bruises on her neck, the red marks on her back from the sheets, the crazy marks he had left all over her body.
His fingertips glided over every inch of her skin, as if caressing a treasure.
Grace leaned against the cold tiles, eyes closed, letting him handle her.
She didn't want to see Damian right now.
After washing, Damian wrapped her in a large bath towel and carried her back to the bedroom.
The sheets had already been changed by the servants, replaced with clean dark gray ones.
He placed her on the bed, pulled up the covers, and tucked them over her.
Then he lay down and held her tightly from behind.
His arm was like an iron hoop around her waist, firmly confining her in his embrace. His face was buried in her hair, and he took a deep breath.
"There won't be a next time," his voice was low, heavy with drowsiness and a trace of lingering fear, "Grace, don't think about leaving me again. I won't let go."
He paused, as if organizing his words.
"Whatever you want, I can give you. Status, position, wealth... as long as you stay by my side obediently."
"As for your brother and your friend... I'll handle it. They won't bother you anymore, and they won't disturb us anymore."
Grace didn't speak.
She just stared ahead at that dark gray sheet, her eyes empty.
---
At the Parker Villa, in the study.
The night was already deep. The air was filled with the faint tobacco scent left by expensive cigars burned to ash, mixed with the heavy smell of old books and wooden furniture.
John sat behind that large mahogany desk, an unlit cigar between his fingers, his face looking particularly grave under the overhead light. On the desk in front of him lay several printed photos, all captured from surveillance footage, the images blurry and unclear.
Ethan stood before the desk. He hadn't rested properly for several days in a row. Dark circles hung heavily under his eyes, and blue stubble had sprouted on his chin. His expensive shirt was covered in wrinkles, and his whole person radiated anxious exhaustion.
"It's no use." John's voice broke the silence in the study. His tone was flat, emotionless. "I hired the best private investigator in Harmony City and checked all the surveillance we could access around the Wolfe Corporation building."