AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He grips my ass hard and holds me in place. He slams into me so hard that I cry out at the mix of pleasure and pain. He slides out and pushes back in, setting a pounding rhythm, thrusting into me deeper and deeper. My nails sink into his back, raking down, and I’m sure he’ll have marks when we finish. His thrust batters my walls repeatedly, causing a million tiny sensations to assault me all at once, propelling me higher toward orgasmic bliss that only he can give me.
As his cock fills me, each thrust more insistent than the last, heat floods through me. It's almost territorial, even as we both recognize the fleeting nature of this embrace. My hands journey up to cradle his face, desperately searching for the anchor of his eyes. When our gazes lock, a muffled murmur escapes my lips before sealing our mouths in a fervent kiss that eclipses thought. His pace intensifies, relentlessly propelling me towards a crest that looms dangerously close.
Then, as if a switch has been flipped, an overwhelming sensation seizes me. I freeze for a fraction of a heartbeat before arching back, and a strangled cry rips from my throat. My body clamps down on him, convulsing in ripples of pleasure that refuse to relent as if trying desperately to hold onto him forever.
“That’s right, baby. Let go,” he says, ramping up the pace of his thrusts as he chases his peak.
After a few more strokes, Damien roars above me. I feel his cock stiffening before he spills inside me. Our breaths intertwine as the silence envelops us, his form a weighted shield atop mine, melding into one another as though we're sculpted from the same fervent clay.
In this suspended slice of time, I surrender to the serenity that follows our storm, soaking in the warmth of the afterglow. I wince when Damien pulls out and rolls to the side. We lay next to each other, staring off into the distance, with neither of us knowing what to say next.
“Stay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Why should I stay, Damien?" My voice is quiet, almost lost in the stillness of the room. "Why should I trust you with my safety, with my life?"
He turns to me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity I don’t want to acknowledge. "Because I can protect you, Isabella. Iwillprotect you," he says with a certainty that both scares and comforts me.
"And once it's over?" I press, needing to know there's an end to this. That I won't be forever trapped in his gravity.
He takes my hand and entwines our fingers. "Once it's over, if you decide to leave, I won't stop you. You'll be free to go without any tether to me or the Blackhart name." His voice is a low promise threaded with an ache that I know reflects my own.
I consider his words, and the weight of my decision is heavier than the shadows around us. Would I ever be able to walk away from him, from us, regardless of his vow? The night stretches out before me, potent with the promise of more whispered secrets and stolen touches. I feel torn, ravaged by a war within. A storm against the calm. There's a gravity in his words, a pull as undeniable as the tide, and for a fleeting moment, I’m lost in the depth of his gaze, seeking an anchor in the storm of my emotions.
A part of me screams to flee, to unravel myself from the web of his influence and run toward the life I had planned. One of freedom, untethered from the likes of Damien Blackhart. Another part yearns to stay, to trust in the peace he offers and the safety promised in the fortress of his arms.
It's a gamble, a high-stakes game where my heart is on the line, and I'm terrifyingly close to placing my bet on him. If this is the wrong choice, if Damien is a siren leading me only to ruin, then I will bolt. I will leave, taking the shattered remnants of my haphazard dreams, and I'll never look back.
Yet here I lay with my resolve wavering on a decision that could undo me. I choose to stay, not out of weakness, but with a clandestine hope that somehow this tangled path may lead to redemption for both of us. With a reluctant nod, I concede with a heavy heart.
"Okay, Damien. I'll stay. For now." Deep within, I silently pray that choosing to stay in his arms doesn't mean sacrificing my heart.
20
CHAPTER 20
Isabella
It's been four weeks since I made the decision to stay with Damien. Four weeks of surprising tenderness and moments so sweet, they scare me. Damien treats me like a queen, with a gentleness I didn't know he possessed. We share breakfast each morning and dinner each night, with easy conversation and frequent laughter. The nights hold steamy encounters mixed with whispered intimacies and have only intensified the connection between us. My cheeks flush with the memory, a mix of pleasure and bashfulness swirling within me.
Yet, the need for my own space remains non-negotiable. I insisted on keeping my own room. Damien's jaw had tensed at that, a shadow of disapproval flickering in his eyes, but he didn't fight me on it. He agreed, albeit reluctantly. It's my sanctuary, a slice of independence that I cling to amongst the rapidly blurring lines of our unconventional relationship. It's proof that inside the fortress that is Damien Blackhart, I am still Isabella. Free, if not entirely unbound.
The presence of Jacob is a constant now, and his vigilant eyes trace my every move. He’s a silent sentinel promised to guard my life. Despite the initial betrayal, the sting of his lies faded in the aftermath of his apology. I forgave him. How could I not when his actions were bound by duty? More convincingly, he had saved me when danger gnarled at my very door. His presence isn't suffocating, though. It's strangely comforting. Jacob shadows me with a respectful distance, and his presence unnoticed until he wants to be.
As I move through the days, he's there, blending into the environment with practiced ease but always there, watching and ensuring my safety. It's an odd partnership, one that treads the line between professional and personal because now he is part of my story, intertwined with the choice I made to stay in Damien's world. Everywhere I go, I feel his protective circle around me like an unspoken promise that I'm not in danger.
I take a deep breath of the aroma of the café's fresh coffee blending with the scent of old books. It's a quirky little place that Seraphina loves, half bookstore, half café. The walls are lined with shelves that climb toward the high ceiling, each one packed with tales and knowledge of every conceivable genre. A collector’s paradise.
Plush armchairs and antique wooden tables are scattered throughout the space, offering cozy nooks for readers to lose themselves in a book or enjoy a warm drink. It’s an eclectic mix of old-world charm and homey comfort. Soft jazz music plays subtly in the background, and the gentle hum of hushed conversations adds to the bookstore's tranquil ambiance.
It feels like a secret hideaway, a place where time slows and the world outside dims to a quiet whisper. My hands wrap tighter around the warm ceramic mug as I finally meet Seraphina's gaze. She's waiting, eyebrows raised in silent question.
My heart pounds as I sit across from her. The distance between us is measured in moments rather than meters. With the steam rising from my cup, a cloud of apprehension envelops me, thicker than the scent of coffee and old books that cling to the air. I haven't seen her since the night of my escape. Her gaze holds a mixture of concern and curiosity, and I struggle to hold it, afraid that she'll read the conflict that swirls within me like a brewing storm. Meeting Seraphina feels like stepping back into a past that's both haunting and heroic. She is my savior but also a reminder of all that I fled.
"Sera, it's been a wild ride," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper as if the words could somehow spill and shatter. "After the escape, I was in this tiny town, living a quiet life, waitressing at a local diner. Simple and serene. But it didn't last."
Seraphina's eyes are wide with concern. "What happened, Isa?"
I glance at Jacob a few tables away. "Damien found me. There was... kidnapping, torture. It's like I can never truly escape his gravity." I pause to sip my coffee. Its bitterness is a stark contrast to the sweetness of the pastries on our table.
