Chapter 140 - ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY

Chapter 140: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY

ANGEL

The rhythm of him sliding past my lips, the weight of him on my tongue, the sounds he was making—it was doing something to me. Something I didn’t want. Something I couldn’t control.

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to ease the pressure, trying to ignore the slick heat gathering there.

But the movement only made it worse, only drew attention to how wet I was getting from this. From him.

From being on my knees with his cock in my throat like a trained little whore.

A sound escaped, one that made him stutter in his rhythm and look down at me with surprise.

His eyes dropped to where my thighs were pressed together, then back up to my face.

A slow, wicked smile spread across his features.

"See, this is what you fucking enjoy, I bet you’re fucking drenched, are you going to cum from just sucking my cock? Me using your throat like a whore?"

He pulled back just enough to let me speak, "Isn’t that what you wanted?" My voice was breathy, nothing like my usual venom. "Me being a good girl? Worshipping your cock?" I looked at his cock that was even harder than before, my tongue toyed with the velvety tip, tracing his glans in slow circles, tasting the precum beading there.

His eyes darkened with suspicion even as he grunted with pleasure. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing." I licked the head of his cock slowly, watching his face for every micro-reaction. "I just figured, why fight it? You’re going to fuck my mouth either way. Might as well make it good for both of us." I swirled my tongue around him again. "I just finally realized you’re right. I’m tired of fighting. I want to be good for you."

His hard grey eyes searched my face.

"Is that so?"

"If you don’t believe me, why do you keep trying?" I tilted my head, letting a flicker of false innocence lace my tone. "If you’re so sure I’ll never love you, why even bother?"

"Because breaking you is half the fucking fun," he shot back, though the words lacked their usual conviction, sounding more like an automated defense than a truth.

"Liar." I smiled up at him. "You don’t just want to break me, Damien. You want me to choose you. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You want me to look at you the way I look at Vincenzo. You want me to love you."

His hand fisted sharply in my hair, tightening until the scalp sting burned. "Shut the fuck up."

"You want me to call your name when I cum instead of just crying through it. You want me to reach for you in my sleep. You want—"

"I said shut up." He shoved his cock back into my mouth, deeper this time, cutting off my words. "You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about."

But I did. I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his hand trembled slightly in my hair, the desperate edge beneath his anger. I’d hit a nerve.

Damien didn’t just want to own me. He wanted me to want to be owned. There was a crucial difference. I’d also accepted something myself.

As much as I hated Damien, I wanted him too.

I wanted the man who killed my parents. It was sick, he’d broken me into something that got wet from being spanked and called a whore. I wanted his hands on me, his cock in me, his voice in my ear telling me I was his good girl.

And I hated him for it. Hated him with every fiber of my being. So much that I wanted to watch the light drain from his eyes. I wanted to be the one holding the knife while I smiled down at his dying face just to watch him realize what I’d done.

I want him, and I want him dead.

Both things were true. They coexisted in the darkest corners of my mind.

So why suffer through unnecessary beatings in the meantime? There was no honor in losing a war when you could simply play the double agent until reinforcements arrived.

Until the day came—until Vincenzo kicked down the front door and put a hollow-point bullet right between those pretty, arrogant grey eyes—I would take whatever Damien gave me. I’d moan for him. Cum for him.

This was how I’d survive... until daddy killed him.

So I sucked. And I let him fuck my mouth. And when he pulled out to slap his cock against my face again, I didn’t flinch, didn’t fight, just took it with half-lidded eyes and parted lips like a girl who’d finally learned her place.

"Fuck," he groaned, looking down at me, his eyes roaming over me with something like wonder. "You’re beautiful like this. All messy and used and finally fucking obedient. That’s my girl."

He shoved back into my mouth, setting a brutal pace now, chasing his release. I hollowed my cheeks and took it, let him use my throat like the hole he wanted it to be.

"I’m close," Damien growled, his rhythm faltering. "Tough yourself and cum with me baby,"

My hand slid between my thighs, obeying, fingers finding my clit slick and aching. The first touch sent electricity sparking through my veins.

"That’s it." His voice had gone ragged. "Let me see you. Let me watch you fall apart while you choke on my cock."

I rubbed in tight circles, my hips grinding against my own hand, desperate and shameless. The dual sensation—him in my throat, my fingers on my clit—was overwhelming. Too much and not enough all at once.

"Fuck, you’re so wet I can hear it." He groaned, thrusting faster. "Hear how desperate this pussy is? Dripping all over your fingers while you suck Daddy’s cock like a good little slut."

A whimper escaped around his length. He was right. I could hear it too—the slick sounds of my fingers working through my arousal. I was soaked. Coming apart at the seams.

"Look at me." He grabbed my chin, tilting my face up without pulling out. "I want to see your eyes when you cum. "

I looked up at him, my vision blurry with tears, my mouth stretched around his girth. Our eyes locked. "Together," he commanded. "Cum with me, Angel. Now."

My fingers moved faster, rougher, chasing the edge that was rushing toward me like a freight train. His thrusts grew erratic, his groans deeper, his grip on my hair almost painful.

"That’s it—fuck—that’s it, baby girl—"

The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through every nerve ending at once. My whole body convulsed, my pussy clenching around nothing, my scream muffled by his cock. I shattered into a million pieces right there on my knees.

He came at the same moment, roaring my name as he spilled down my throat. Hot, thick ropes of cum flooding my mouth faster than I could swallow. I choked, gagged, felt it leak from the corners of my lips as he kept cumming, kept pumping, kept filling me.

"Swallow it." His voice was wrecked, barely human. "Every fucking drop. Don’t you dare waste it."

I swallowed desperately, gulping down his release even as my own orgasm continued to pulse through me, aftershocks making my thighs tremble. Cum and spit dripped down my chin, onto my breasts, mixing with tears and sweat.

He pulled out slowly, his softening cock dragging against my swollen lips, leaving a trail of cum in its wake. Then he grabbed my neck, lifting my face up, studying the mess he’d made.

"Open."

I opened my mouth, showing him my tongue coated in the remnants of his release.

"Good girl." He spit into my open mouth—a final act of ownership—and pressed my jaw closed. "Swallow."

I did. Tasted him and myself and something that felt like surrender.

"Now clean me up." He pressed his softening cock against my lips. "Lick every drop. Show me how grateful you are."

I licked him clean, my tongue tracing every inch, Thorough. Obedient. I sucked gently on the sensitive head until he hissed and pulled back, oversensitive from the force of his orgasm.

"Greedy little thing." He sounded almost fond. "Can’t get enough, can you?"

I said nothing. Just looked up at him with wet eyes and swollen lips and waited.

He tucked himself away slowly, making me watch. Then he crouched down to my level, studying my ruined face with dark satisfaction. His thumb traced through the mess on my chin—cum and drool and tears all mixed together—scooping up a thick glob of his release.

"Open."

I opened my mouth and he pushed his thumb inside, pressing down on my tongue.

"You missed some." He gathered more from my cheek, feeding it to me with his fingers. "Can’t have that. Can’t waste Daddy’s cum when he works so hard to feed you."

I sucked his fingers clean, tasting the salt and musk of him all over again.

I swallowed obediently as he kept fingers pushing deeper each time, making me gag around them.

"What do you say after getting fed, baby girl?"

He pulled his fingers free, I looked up at him through a ruined face, my mind broken, my cunt still twitching with aftershocks.

"Thank you for feeding me, Daddy."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

His grey eyes traced over my face—the swelling on my cheek where he’d slapped me. His expression changed, something almost tender bleeding through the cruelty.

"Look what you made me do." His voice had gone soft. Quiet. He released my jaw and cupped my face instead, his touch suddenly gentle, cradling me. "Look at this pretty face. All bruised up because you couldn’t behave."

His thumb brushed over my swollen cheek with impossible tenderness, tracing the mark he’d left there.

"Does it hurt, baby?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the bruise, featherlight. A kiss so gentle it made my chest ache with confusion.

"I’m sorry," he murmured against my damaged skin. "Daddy doesn’t like hurting this pretty face. But you make me so crazy, Angel. You know that? Make me lose control."

He kissed the corner of my swollen mouth. Kissed my aching jaw.

"I’ll be gentler next time." Another kiss, pressed to my tear-stained cheek. "If you’re good. If you don’t fight me. I can be so gentle with you, baby. So sweet. You just have to let me."