Chapter 64
The kisses that began on his cheeks soon migrated to his lips—Shirley licking, sucking, even nipping lightly between breathless pleas. Don’t do this. It’s too much.
What she didn’t realize was how much it only fueled him.
“Hah…”
Damian exhaled sharply, his voice cracking into something low and rough. A dangerous warning.
“Shirley…”
Then—
Weightlessness.
For a split second, she was airborne—before being impaled back onto him with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs.
“Ah—ahh! Ah!”
Stars exploded behind her eyelids as Damian pistoned up into her, each snap of his hips ruthless and precise. She could do nothing but cling to his neck, her body jolting with every thrust.
Drip. Drip.
The sensation of their mingled release trickling down her thighs was obscene.
Somehow, he kept walking toward the bed, the slick drag of her oversensitive walls around him wrenching whimpers from her throat.
Only when her back hit the mattress did he finally withdraw—but before she could gasp in relief, his fingers plunged back inside, stretching her wider.
“Hng…!”
Three fingers curled deep, and her body clenched instinctively around them. Damian smirked.
“Shirley,” he purred, scissoring her open with deliberate, punishing strokes, “Who does this hole belong to?”
“Nngh… y-you…”
Shirley glared up at him, her face flushed crimson with embarrassment and frustration.
“Hm?”
“Y-You… only you…!”
“Can’t hear you.”
His fingers curled deeper, ruthlessly stroking that spot inside her until her back arched off the bed.
“D-Damian… my… husband…!”
The word seemed to please him—his eyes darkened, a slow, satisfied smirk spreading across his lips.
“That’s right.”
Then, just as suddenly, his fingers withdrew, leaving her gasping.
Between his fingers stretched glistening strands—their mixed release, sticky and obscene. Without hesitation, he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean before crashing his lips back onto hers.
“Mmph—!”
The taste—salty, musky—flooded her mouth as he sheathed himself inside her again in one brutal thrust.
Schlick. Schlick.
The lewd sounds of their joining filled the room as he rolled them sideways, one arm cradling her head while the other hooked her leg over his hip.
“Ah…!”
He kissed her deeply as he drove into her, each snap of his hips punishingly precise.
“Ngh—ah—ahh!”
The deeper he went, the louder she cried out, her body forced open wider as he lifted her leg higher, claiming her completely.
After what felt like an eternity of being relentlessly taken from behind, Damian suddenly flipped Shirley onto her back, climbing over her.
His hands roamed her chest as he positioned himself between her thighs, pressing deep inside once more. Then, against her ear, he whispered in that familiar-yet-unfamiliar voice—the one from the masquerade:
[“Shirley… we were always meant to end up like this.”]
The cadence, the accent—it sent shivers down her spine. But before she could process it, he captured her lips again, swallowing her gasp as he rolled his hips, grinding into her with a slow, deliberate friction that made her toes curl.
“Ngh—ah—!”
The sensation of being stretched and filled so completely wrenched a sob from her throat.
Then, just as suddenly, he flipped her again, pulling her up onto her knees as he mounted her from behind once more.
“Shirley.”
His voice—rough with possession—dragged her eyes open. His gaze burned with something reverent, as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Look at me.”
Dazed and boneless from pleasure, she could barely keep her eyes focused as he pounded into her, stealing her breath with every thrust.
“We’re husband and wife now.”
“……”
“Bound since before we were born.”
“…Damian.”
“Which means…” He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her ring finger. “…you can never escape me.”
“Not now.”
“Not ever.”
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