Chapter 210: The Devil’s Primal Possession (R18+)

Damian increases the pace, his mouth working Ana’s core with a savage precision, driving you toward a peak that is as much about surrender as it is about pleasure.

"Damian... ahhh..."

The sound of his name leaving her lips is the catalyst he was waiting for. Her moan isn’t just a sound of pleasure; to him, it is a prayer of submission, a verbal acknowledgment that he has completely dismantled her defenses.

Hearing her gasp out in a, desperate tone sent a jolt of raw power through him, his eyes snapped up to her with a terrifying, predatory glint.

He doesn’t stop his mouth’s relentless play, but he increases the intensity, his tongue driving into Ana with a savage, rhythmic force that pushes her over the edge.

As she peaked, he suctioned her one last time, a deep, possessive pull that made her entire body seize and shudder against the table. He drinks in her release as if it were a trophy, his breathing heavy and ragged, his face smeared with the evidence of her surrender.

He doesn’t let her linger in the afterglow. He immediately pushes himself up, his muscular chest glistening with sweat, his expression cold and commanding. He doesn’t give her a moment to recover, his hands gripping her hips and hauling her toward the edge of the table with a sudden, jarring movement.

He is no longer content with just his mouth; he wants the full, crushing weight of his body inside her.

"Say it again," he rasped, his voice a low, dangerous growl that vibrates in the air. He looms over her, his massive frame casting a shadow that swallows her whole. "Moan my name while I fuck the life out of you, Anastasia. I want to hear you scream who owns you."

"Damian... please..."

Damian doesn’t give her a chance to catch her breath. In one fluid, dominant motion, he lunges upward, his large hand cupping the back of her head to tilt your face up. He crashes his lips against her in a kiss that is less about affection and more about a total, primal claim.

He doesn’t let her pull away; he forced her mouth open, his tongue slid into hers with a raw, aggressive intensity.

As he kissed her, she could taste the salty, metallic tang of her own release... the evidence of her surrender... still clinging to his lips and tongue.

He forced to consume her own pleasure, making her an accomplice in her own breaking. He wanted Ana to taste the physical proof of how he has dismantled her, turning her own body’s reaction into a brand that she cannot wash away.

He pulled back just a fraction of an inch, his eyes dark and swirling with a predatory satisfaction. A thin strand of saliva connected her lips, a silver thread of ownership in the dim light of the room. He didn’t smile; he simply stared, his voice a low, guttural rumble that vibrated through her entire chest.

"Do you taste it, Anastasia?" He rasped, his breath hot. He gripped her jaw, his fingers slightly hard into your skin. "That is the taste of your submission. That is the taste of me owning every single part of you. Now... let us see if you can scream my name as loud as you moan it."

He entered his way into her with a single thrust, his movements intensely moving in and out. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, to be reminded that her body is a sanctuary where only one man is allowed.

"You are mine," he groans, his voice breaking into a rough command as he drives into her with a punishing rhythm. "Every thought, every breath, every core in your body belongs to me. I will make sure you remember why you only belong to me, my doll."

His large, calloused hands slam onto her breasts, cupping them with a possessive grip. He squeezes them with a raw intensity, his fingers digging into the soft tissue as he molds them to his liking. He begins to play with her peaks, his thumbs rubbing them with a rough, demanding pressure that sends shocks of electricity through her sensitive frame, contrasting with the heavy, punishing friction between her legs.

As he stimulates her chest, his hips accelerate, his thrusts becoming faster and more violent. He is no longer just claiming her; he is consuming her. The desk creaks under the force of his movements, the sound echoing in the silent room.

He lets out a guttural, animalistic groan, his head falling forward to bury his face in the crook of her neck, his breathing ragged and hot.

He slows his pace slightly, but it is only to make the friction more intense, to ensure she could feel every single millimeter of his intrusion. He leans down, his heavy chest pressing her further into the desk, his voice a low, dark vibration against her ear.

"Damian... slow down... It’s too intense."

"Slow down?" His voice echoes, a smirk touching his lips. He gives a sharp, deep thrust that forces a gasp from her lungs, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying intensity. "Not possible. I want you to feel me in your bones, Anastasia. I want you to be so sore that every time you walk, every time you breathe, you remember exactly who put you in this state."

Anastasia squirmed.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice a primal vibration. "So marked... and still you take all of me." He gives one final, devastating surge of power, his grip on her breasts tightening pinning her to the desk as he pours himself into her once again.

The aftermath of the encounter is heavy and thick with the scent of sex and dominance. As the final tremors of her orgasm fade and Damian’s own release settles deep inside her, he doesn’t immediately pull away.

He remained anchored to her, his heavy, muscular frame pinning her against the desk, his breathing slow and jagged.

He shifted his weight and captured her lips in a kiss that is far from tender. It is a fierce, possessive claim, his mouth molding to hers with a desperate, almost hungry intensity. He kissed her as if he was trying to overwrite the memory of the past few days, as if his lips could physically erase the fact that he wanted to trap her forever with a devastating future.