Chapter 126 - ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SIX

Chapter 126: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SIX

DAMIEN

I’d waited so long for this.

Every fucking night in that hospital bed, burns screaming across my skin, morphine barely dulling the edges, I’d close my eyes and see her face. Every morning I’d wake up hard as stone, cock aching for her, and have to wrap my hand around myself and pretend it was her tight little cunt squeezing me. Memories were never enough. My own fist was never enough. Nothing was enough except her.

And now she was here. In my arms. Where she belonged.

My fingers traced the line of her jaw, feeling the soft give of her skin beneath my touch. She’d been so frantic in the car—screaming, clawing, fighting me with everything she had like the feral little wildcat I’d trained her to be. I’d had to sedate her. The needle slid into her neck so easily, and within seconds all that fire extinguished into quiet breathing and slack limbs.

I preferred her fighting. The scratch of her nails and the sting of her teeth. The way her body bucked against mine when she tried to escape, grinding her ass against my cock without meaning to. But I’d take her any way I could get her. Willing, unwilling, conscious, unconscious—didn’t matter. She was mine regardless.

My hand moved lower, trailing down her throat, feeling her pulse beat steady beneath my fingertips.

Mine again.

Fuck, I’d missed this. The weight of her in my arms and the smell of her skin, even underneath all the blood and sweat. I buried my nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, letting her scent fill my lungs like a drug.

The bullet wound in my shoulder throbbed, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage where the bullet had grazed my skin. I barely noticed. Pain was nothing when I’d survived worse than some pussy bullet from Vincenzo’s shaking hand. I’d crawled through rubble with my skin melting off my bones. Lain in the dark for three days, buried beneath concrete and steel. I’d flatlined twice on the operating table and clawed my way back both times because I refused to die without having her again.

A bullet? Please. Vincenzo would have to try harder than that to put me down.

My hand continued its exploration, moving across her collarbone, down to the swell of her breast. Even unconscious, her body responded to me. Her nipple pebbled beneath my palm, stiffening against the heat of my touch, and I smiled.

"That’s right, baby girl," I murmured, rolling the tight bud between my fingers. "Your body remembers Daddy."

I pinched harder, twisting until she whimpered in her sleep. The sound went straight to my cock. I wanted to hear that sound for the rest of my life. That helpless little whimper that meant she was feeling me, responding to me, even when she didn’t want to.

But then my fingers encountered something that made my smile fade.

A mark on her breast. Purple and red and unmistakably the shape of teeth. Vincenzo’s fucking teeth.

My vision went red.

That bastard had marked her. Put his mouth on what was mine and bit down hard enough to bruise. I traced the mark with my thumb, pressing into the bruise until Angel whimpered again. Louder this time. Pain shooting through her even in sleep.

She betrayed me. I wanted it to hurt. I needed to grind Vincenzo’s claim into dust.

"He put his mouth here," I said, my voice low even though she couldn’t hear me. "Right here on Daddy’s property. Do you know what I’m going to do about that, baby girl?"

My hand moved lower, across her ribs—down to her stomach, between her thighs.

I found more evidence of Vincenzo there.

Her pussy was swollen. Tender. When I pushed two fingers inside her she whimpered, as though still raw from being fucked. Recently. Probably that very morning, knowing how obsessed Vincenzo was with her. He probably couldn’t keep his hands off her any more than I could. Probably woke her up every morning with his cock already inside her, the way I used to.

The rage built until I could barely breathe through it.

Vincenzo had been inside her. He had fucked this tight little cunt that belonged to me while I lay in a hospital bed with tubes down my throat.

Every orgasm she’d had in that mansion was stolen from me. Every time Vincenzo made her come, he was taking something that belonged to me.

I was going to reclaim every single one.

"Did he make you feel good?" I asked her unconscious form, pumping my fingers slowly in and out of her. "Did he fuck you the way I taught you to like it? Hard and deep until you couldn’t remember your own name? Did he choke you while he pounded this pussy? Did he slap your clit until you screamed?"

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. But her body responded anyway, clenching around my fingers like it remembered what I could do to it—getting wet despite being unconscious.

"That’s what I thought." I curled my fingers, finding that spot inside her that always made her scream. "Your cunt missed me, didn’t it? This pussy missed being stretched around Daddy’s cock, being used like the tight little fuckhole it is. Vincenzo’s dick probably felt like nothing after what I gave you. Did he even know how to make you squirt? Did he figure out that you come hardest when I’m hurting you?"

I fucked her harder with my fingers, watching her face for any reaction. Her brow furrowed slightly. Her lips parted. A soft moan escaped her throat.

Even unconscious, she responded to me. Her body knew its master.

I added a third finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was coming later. She’d need to be ready. I wasn’t going to be gentle when I finally got inside her. I was going to shove my cock so deep she’d feel it in her throat.

"Fuck," I groaned, my cock throbbing painfully in my pants. "You’re still so tight. Even after letting Vincenzo use this cunt for months, you’re still squeezing my fingers like a virgin. Did he not fuck you hard enough? Did he treat you gently?"

I laughed, the sound ugly and bitter.

The car turned off the main road onto a private drive, winding through dense forest. I reluctantly withdrew my fingers from her cunt and brought them to my lips, tasting her.

Sweet. Musky. Mine.

I sucked my fingers clean, savoring the flavor of her arousal, letting it coat my tongue. Then I reached back down and pushed those same fingers into her mouth, past her slack lips, letting her taste herself on me.

"That’s your pussy, baby girl," I murmured, watching my fingers slide between her lips. "That’s what you taste like when you’re wet for me. Get used to it. You’re going to be tasting yourself on my cock every day."

The car stopped in front of the main house and I stepped out with Angel still in my arms. My men were lined up outside, faces blank, eyes averted. They knew better than to look at what I was carrying.

I’d been away from my empire too long. Vincenzo had spent the months of my recovery destroying everything I’d built—burning my warehouses, sinking my ships, killing my men. He thought he’d crippled me. Thought he’d left me with nothing.

Stupid bastard.

He’d found the obvious assets. The ports and warehouses I’d let him discover. He had no idea about the shell corporations and shadow networks that operated completely off the books. Half my fortune was invisible, hidden in places even my own accountants didn’t know about. A few destroyed ports meant nothing—a minor inconvenience at worst.

And now I had everything back. Including her.

Inside, the house was cold and grey.

I carried her up the stairs to the master bedroom. My bedroom. Our bedroom now.

The bed was massive, sheets dark silk, windows bulletproof and sealed shut. I lay her down on the mattress and stood over her, just looking.

So fucking beautiful. Even covered in blood and another man’s marks, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The most perfect thing I’d ever owned.

I needed to clean her up. She was still covered in blood—Vincenzo’s blood, her blood, my blood, all mixed together on her skin. I wouldn’t let her wake up like this. Wouldn’t let Vincenzo’s blood be the first thing she saw.

I went to the bathroom and ran a bath. I carried her to the tub and lowered her in, watching the water turn faint pink as the blood dissolved away.

I washed every inch of her body.

My hands moved over her with thorough attention. I relearned every curve—she’d changed in our time apart, added a bit of weight that made her tits fuller, her ass rounder—but she was still my Angel.

I paid special attention to the places Vincenzo had marked her. The bite on her breast—I scrubbed it until her skin turned red, until I’d rubbed away the top layer of cells that his mouth had touched.

Leaning down, I bit the same spot.

Harder.

Deeper.

Replacing his mark with mine.