Chapter 54 - FIFTY FOUR

Chapter 54: Chapter FIFTY FOUR

ANGEL

Tears ran down my temples and into my hair. I meant it with every shattered piece of my soul. I would do anything.

Be anything.

Become anyone he wanted me to be.

The thought of him giving me to another man, of someone else touching me, owning me, trying to be what Damien was—it made me want to die.

"There’s no need to give me to other men," I said desperately, "I’m yours. I only want to be yours. Please don’t give me away. Please keep me."

I was begging and I didn’t care. Pride meant nothing. Dignity meant nothing. All that mattered was staying with him.

I sat up on the desk with difficulty, then I stood on shaking legs that barely held my weight. I pressed myself against him, feeling his warmth, his solidity, everything I needed.

I met his stainless steel gaze, he still wasn’t saying anything.

"Please Daddy, don’t give me up. I’ll prove I’m worth keeping. Just give me a chance."

Maybe he wanted me to prove it?

Damien was still watching me as I stood on the tip of my toes.

I kissed his lips, pouring every ounce of desperation, need and terror into it. Trying to make him feel what I felt.

I wanted him to understand that losing him would destroy me completely. That there would be nothing left of me if he sent me away.

I was already broken. Shattered.

But if he kept the broken pieces, I could survive. I could be his broken thing. His ruined little girl. His slave. His property. His anything.

Just please don’t throw me away.

Damien didn’t respond. His face remained unreadable, my desperation intensified, and I could taste the bitterness choking me.

I kissed him again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against his, my hands fisting in his shirt desperately. "I don’t want other men. I don’t want anyone else. I only want to belong to you. Please, Daddy. Please."

I was sobbing between kisses now, tears streaming down my face, my whole body shaking. "I have no one else. You know that. No one wants me. Only you. You’re all I have. Please don’t take that away from me."

This time, Damien’s hand shot up and grasped my neck fiercely, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to bruise, hard enough to make breathing difficult. "You need to be more convincing than this, little girl."

Hope flared in my chest like a match struck in darkness, he was giving me a chance.

"I will," I promised breathlessly, my voice hoarse from crying. "I’ll be better than all of them," I said.

"And what you just did with Camilla and Maria," he continued, his voice dropping lower, becoming something dark and threatening, "will be punished. You think jealousy gives you rights you haven’t earned?"

"Yes, Daddy." I would accept any punishment if it meant he kept me. "I understand. I’m sorry. Punish me however you want."

I would deal with the others later.

"Strip now."

I obeyed immediately, my hands trembling violently as I pulled off the simple dress I’d been wearing. It pooled at my feet and I stood naked before him, vulnerable and exposed, my body still bearing the marks from the red room—welts on my ass and thighs that had faded to purple and yellow, bruises on my wrists and ankles from the restraints, the plug still lodged inside me as a constant reminder of who owned me.

His eyes gleamed with approval as he assessed me from head to toe. "You’re covered in my marks for being disobedient and you still think you have the right to decide who touches me?"

"I’m sorry, Daddy. I just—I can’t stand seeing them touch you. It makes me want to—"

"Want to what?" His voice was sharp, mocking. "Kill them? Is that what you were going to say?"

I didn’t answer. Because yes, that’s exactly what I’d been going to say.

"Kneel."

I dropped to my knees on the hard floor, the impact sending pain shooting through my kneecaps. I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face, waiting for whatever he would do to me.

"You’re pathetic," he said, but there was something in his voice—not quite satisfaction, but close. Like my desperation pleased him. Like my brokenness was exactly what he wanted. "Crying and begging like a desperate whore. Is this what you’ve become?"

"Yes, Daddy. I’m your desperate whore. I’m your pathetic slave. I’m whatever you want me to be."

He looked down at me for a long moment, his grey eyes cold and appraising. Then he reached for his cock, still hard and leaking.

"Open your mouth," he commanded. "Show me what you’re willing to do to stay with me."

I opened immediately, eagerly, my tongue out, ready to take him, ready to prove myself.

He guided his cock to my lips but didn’t push in yet. Just held himself there, making me wait, making me want it.

"You understand that if I keep you, you belong to me completely?" he said. "Every hole. Every breath. Every thought. Mine."

"Yes, Daddy. Everything is yours."

"Then prove it."

I wrapped my lips around him eagerly, taking him deep, tasting his precum and the remnants of Camilla and Maria’s saliva. But I pushed that thought away and focused only on him. On pleasing him. On showing him I was worth keeping.

He tasted like power and possession and everything I needed to survive.

And as I sucked him, as I felt his hand tangle roughly in my hair, as I heard his groan above me, I knew I would do anything to keep him.

Anything at all.

Because without him, I was nothing.

And I couldn’t go back to being nothing.

Not after knowing what it felt like to be his.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I sucked him deep, using my tongue the way I’d learned he liked, hollowing my cheeks, taking him as far as I could without gagging, trying to replicate what I’d seen Camilla do even though I couldn’t easily take him as deep yet.

"That’s my girl," he groaned, his hand tangling in my hair with a grip that was harsh and painful. "Suck Daddy’s cock real good, show me you’re born for this. Taking my cock like this,"

I sucked harder, faster, desperate to please him. I bobbed my head, taking him deeper each time, ignoring the way my jaw started to ache and my eyes started to water.

I had to be perfect.

I needed to be better. To make him never want anyone else’s mouth on him again.

I pulled back slowly, letting my lips drag along his length until just the head remained in my mouth. Then I swirled my tongue around the sensitive ridge, tasting the precum that leaked steadily now, salty and bitter and all mine.

"Fuck," Damien breathed, his grip tightening in my hair.

I pulled off completely and immediately wrapped my hand around his shaft, stroking him while I leaned down to lick along the thick vein on the underside. I traced it with my tongue from base to tip, feeling his cock throb in my hand.

Then I took one of his balls into my mouth, sucking gently while my hand continued working his shaft. I could feel the weight of it on my tongue, could feel him tense above me.

"You love this cock, don’t you?" he grunted, looking down at me with those dark eyes.

"I love daddy’s cock," I said with his sac muffling my speech.

I released his ball with a wet pop and moved to the other one, giving it the same attention while my hand stroked faster. His cock was rock hard now, the head dark and swollen, precum dripping steadily.

I licked my way back up to the tip and caught the bead of precum with my tongue before it could fall. Then I looked up at him while I licked around the head like it was candy.

"That’s it, baby girl. Show Daddy how much you love his cock."

I took him deep again, as deep as I could manage, feeling him hit the back of my throat. I gagged but didn’t pull back, just breathed through my nose and tried to relax my throat the way I imagined Camilla must do.

When I finally had to come up for air, drool was running down my chin and my eyes were streaming tears.

Damien pulled his cock from my mouth and used it to slap my cheek lightly. The wet sound was obscene and the feeling of his hard cock hitting my face made my pussy clench.

"Get up, I want your titties," he commanded suddenly. "Move to the chair!"

I scrambled to my feet, my legs shaking slightly. He pushed me back against the adjustable seat in his office until I was half-sitting on the edge.

"Push those milk jugs together for Daddy."

I cupped my breasts and pushed them together, creating a valley between them. They were still marked from the whip—faint lines and bruises that were starting to fade but still visible.

Damien stepped closer and positioned his cock between my breasts. "Hold them tight, don’t let go."

I squeezed my breasts around his shaft with all my strength. He began to fuck my cleavage relentlessly, sliding his heavy cock through my skin, thrusting hard and fast. The swollen head peeked out from the top of my chest with every stroke, leaving trails of thick pre-cum and saliva smeared all over my chest and collarbones.

"Fuck," he growled, watching his dick stretch my skin as he pounded between my breasts. "Such perfect milk jugs. Built strictly for Daddy’s cock."

The sight of his thick shaft disappearing between my breasts, slick with his fluid, sent a wave of perverse heat straight to my core.

"Lick it," he commanded as his head popped out the top of my chest again, slick and dripping. "Every time it comes up, lap it clean."

I strained my neck forward, sticking my tongue out, lapping at the wet head of his cock every time he thrust it through my breasts, swallowing his pre-cum off my own skin, begging with my eyes for him to never stop ruining me.