~Lyra~noveldrama
Oh my God.
Like no, seriously. Oh my fucking God.
Did Damon just say that?
Did he really just stand there-broad and bloodstained and terrifyingly hot with those dark Alpha eyes still glowing-and announce to the world, to Camilla, to me, that yes, he had been fucking me?
Yes, yes he did.
His eyes burned with that dark, possessive fire when he took a step closer, his voice dropping even deeper, viscous as molasses and twice as filthy.
“She has that trembling, desperate look in her eyes when I’m inside her-you know, that voice-cracking, breath-melting please don’t stop look?
“I grab her hips and drive in deeper until her walls clench around me like she’s a fucking vise. And the sounds she makes? God, the way her throat tightens when I knot her…” His fingers trailed over my belly, dragging under my shirt so slow it made me quake, absolutely frictionless just off skin. “…she arches, bites her lip, and fucking moans my name so fucking loud she barely remembers hers.”
Camilla screamed, her voice splitting the charged air like broken glass. “Enough! Stop it!” She staggered forward, her voice raw, choking on emotion. “This is sick! You-this is wrong, Damon!”
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t stop. Instead, he tilted his head and smiled at me, lips curling like he was sharing a wicked secret only we understood.
“She’s dripping for me right now,” he said, softer, sharper.
My legs threatened to collapse, my body screaming for relief. My breath came in ragged chews. My voice trembled under the weight of all that raw filthy truth. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
He leaned in, lazy dominance lighting up his eyes. “She tastes like salvation. Like midnight rain. Like everything raw and burning wrapped up in one perfect, little Omega.
“And every time I slide in deep, leak inside her, knot her hot little body-I claim her. I mark every damn inch. She’ll carry my pups soon, fill her womb with my bloodline-because she’s mine. All mine.”
Camilla sobbed-no, bawled her words shaking. “This-it’s too much! You have to stop! She’s eighteen! You can’t-you- you’re fucking sick!”
Damon pressed against me, jaw setting as he locked eyes on Camilla’s spiraling figure. “I’m not sick,” he said, voice low and unwavering.
“I’m perfect. Because I found my mate. Yeah, she’s eighteen, and fucking perfect, and hers is the scent that turned this cold- damned world alive. She’s mine, Camilla. She belongs to me. And loud, filthy, public, or private-I will fuck her tomorrow, the day after, and every day until the Moon stops pulling tides.”
Camilla screamed again, stumbling backwards in disbelief. But Damon didn’t stop. He pulled me in closer by the hip, brushing my hair aside, and whispered into my ear in a voice made of pure dominance:
“She sobs. She begs. She kneels. She breathes my name into her sheets and thanks me for every fucking inch I fill inside her.” My heart raced so hard I thought it might stop. I wanted to cry. I wanted to moan. I wanted to run into his arms and dissolve into whatever filthy, beautiful thing he was making me become.
Damon tilted my chin up, catching my gaze. “Tell her, kitten. Tell her how badly you want this. How badly you need me.”
And though I was drenched, trembling, almost drowning in actual need, I said it-swallowed every protest of shame and doubt:
“I need you. I want you. I’m yours.’
His breath slid over my cheek like heat-wrapped sin, and the moment those three words left my mouth-I need you-he smiled like the devil himself had taught him how to ruin girls like me.
“Oh, kitten,” he groaned, and it wasn’t soft. It was brutal, aching, possessive. He tilted his head, jaw flexing as he studied every inch of my flushed, trembling face like he wanted to memorize the desperation wrecking me from the inside out.
“You hear that, Camilla? She said she needs me. Not air. Not water. Me. The man twice her age who can tear her open and still make her beg for more.”
His hand dragged down my spine with a lazy kind of hunger, dipping beneath the waistband of my shorts like he had every right to. My legs were shaking, cunt soaking, and I couldn’t even pretend to resist anymore.
Not when his fingers slipped just far enough to make me gasp, teasing the dip of my ass crack before trailing back up with that sinful slowness that made my thighs quake.
“She’s soaked,” he said, like he was talking about the weather. “She’s clenching already and I haven’t even touched her pussy yet. Her body remembers what it’s like to be split open by me. Her cunt’s probably fluttering, begging for it, hot and needy like she’s wired for my cock. And the best part?”
His mouth brushed against my ear, and I felt it in my fucking soul.
“She likes that you’re watching, Camilla. Don’t you, kitten?” His voice turned syrupy and dangerous. “Tell her. Tell her how wet you get when someone sees me ruin you.”
I whimpered. It came out like a whine, breathless and broken. “I like it,” I whispered, meeting Camilla’s horrified eyes. “I like knowing you know what he does to me. That you can hear how I scream for him. I like knowing you can’t do anything to stop it.”
Camilla’s mouth fell open, her hands shaking like she’d just watched someone bleed to death. “You’re not normal,” she whispered. “This is not normal. She’s eighteen. You’re-you’re a fucking monster!”
Damon laughed. Laughed. This soft, cocky, low chuckle that sent chills down my spine because I knew what was coming next.
“You want to hear something worse?” he asked, dragging me against him so hard I could feel his cock, hard and thick and pulsing behind his zipper. “She begs for the knot. She sobs for it. She cries, not because she’s scared, but because she needs it. She needs me to stretch her open and tie her to me like a good little Omega.”
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