Chapter 60 - SIXTY

Chapter 60: Chapter SIXTY

ANGEL

I forgot how to breathe. "Auction?"

Was he still going to sell me?

"You heard me," Damien confirmed.

Panic seized my chest. "No. No, Daddy, please. Is it because of Kayla?" Tears stung in my eyes. "Because I failed your test? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll do better, I promise, please don’t send me away—"

"It’s not because of Kayla." He interrupted, his other hand came up to frame my face, forcing me to look at him even though my vision was blurred with tears. "Listen to me. Angel, it’s not a punishment." His hands stilled in my hair.

"Then why?" I shook my head. Why wasn’t he keeping me? Even after everything, was I still not enough to keep him satisfied?

"Angel." His voice was firm. "Look at me."

I blinked back anguished tears to meet his eyes, and what I saw there stole my breath. There was something raw and desperate lurking beneath the surface. Something that looked like it was eating him alive. If he looked so pained, then why was he talking about trading me to other men?

"I can’t stay here forever, the plan was to train you," he said quietly. "Now that it’s over, we will return to the world outside. But you’ll still be mine."

His thumb stroked my cheek, his eyes darker with an affection I hadn’t seen before. "I’m going to put you on that auction block as planned. But I’m going to bring you back. Because no amount of money in this world could buy you from me."

The words should have comforted me, but all I felt was terror. I didn’t want to leave him even for a second.

"What if someone takes me?" My voice was thick with fear. "What if you can’t get me back?"

Just thinking about this made my whole body tremble, my breath was coming out faster, and my heart beat too fast.

Damien clasped my shoulders, "That won’t happen, Angel, because I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you." Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. He looked feral and violent that made my skin prickle with hope.

I wanted him to be this possessive, and more.

"You’re mine, Angel. And I don’t share what’s mine. I’m doing this to protect you, so you can be mine legally in the eyes of the underworld."

There was something crazed in his voice that I believed him completely.

I loved the way his grey eyes burned like a furnace that went beyond possessiveness into pure obsession.

It made heat pool low in my belly despite my fear. I loved that he was this wild about me.

"How long until the auction?" I asked.

"A few days." His hand slid down to my throat, not squeezing but resting there. A reminder. A promise. "And then you’ll be mine forever. Then, I’ll grant you a collar. You will wear it right here." He caressed my neck and I snuggled into his touch, craving more.

"Promise?" I peeked at him.

"I promise." He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against mine. "No one touches you. No one keeps you. You’re mine."

He pulled back and continued washing me, his hands moving over my body with renewed intensity. Like he was memorizing every curve, every mark, every inch of skin that belonged to him. His fingers lingered on the bruises he’d left, pressing into them just hard enough to make me gasp.

"Does it hurt?" he murmured.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good." His fingers pressed harder. "I want you to remember who did this to you. Who owns every inch of this body."

When he was done, he helped me out of the tub and dried me off with a towel.

Then he disappeared into his closet and returned with one of his shirts—soft, grey, smelling like him. He pulled it over my head and it fell to mid-thigh, swallowing my smaller frame.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over me with naked hunger. "Mine."

He picked me up then, carrying me to his bed. The sheets were cool against my heated skin as he laid me down, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he stripped off his clothes until he was in just his boxers, then climbed in beside me.

This was the first time I was sleeping in his bed. Not in that isolated room, but here, in his private space.

Pride bloomed in my chest despite the auction and the punishment still looming.

Because he’d brought me here. To his bed.

Me.

Not the others. I was special to him.

He pulled me against his chest, his arm wrapping around my waist so tightly I could barely breathe. His other hand slid under my—his—shirt, palm splaying possessively across my stomach.

"You’re never leaving me," he whispered against my neck, "Even when I send you to that auction and when you think I’ve abandoned you. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine."

His hand slid lower, between my legs, cupping me possessively. It wasn’t sexual. Just claiming. Owning.

"This is mine," he said, his fingers pressing against my pussy hard enough to make me whimper. "Your pleasure is mine. Your pain is mine. Every breath you take is mine. Your life is mine."

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered, because it was true.

His fingers stayed there, while his other arm tightened around my waist until it bordered on painful. I could feel his heartbeat against my back—frantic, obsessive.

"I love you, little girl," he said, and the words sounded like they’d been spilled without his permission.

He didn’t take them back. And those words felt like molten steel, setting aflame my feelings for him.

His hand between my legs pressed harder, possessive to the point of pain. "I love you so fucking much it’s destroying me. You’re my sweet little girl,"

I felt his cock hard against my ass, but he didn’t move to take me. He just held me there in that iron grip, possessive and desperate and completely unhinged.

The confession made something dark and warm bloom in my chest.

"I love you too, Daddy," I whispered, and I meant it. With everything in me.

"Say it again." His voice was rough, demanding. His fingers pushed inside me without warning and I gasped when he stretched my pussy. "Tell me you love me!"

"I love you, Daddy," I gasped. "I love you so much."

"Good girl." His teeth sank into my shoulder, harder this time, marking me. Breaking skin. "My good little girl."

His fingers moved inside me, not gentle, not sweet, but fast and hard. Reminding me who I belonged to.

"No one will ever touch you like this," he growled against my skin. "No one will ever own you like I do."

Tears spring to my eyes as I came apart under his touch.

I was his.

And I didn’t want it any other way.

"Sleep," he commanded, his fingers still inside me, his teeth still pressed against my shoulder. "You’ll need your strength for what’s coming."

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the comfort of being held so tightly I couldn’t move. Of knowing I was owned so completely that escape was impossible. Of being loved in a way that was dark and obsessive and completely consuming.

He loved me. Daddy loved me and that was all that mattered.