<h4>Chapter 312: Pentatonix: The Sound of Silence</h4>
Without a word, she reached for the belt at her waist and tugged. Her robe slipped free, pooling at her feet. She stood bare before him. Her breasts rose and fell with shallow breaths, her curves trembling under his hungry, tortured gaze.
She was offering herself, her body, her love, her trust—everything she was—to remind him that he was hers. That he had always been hers.
Damien’s gaze swept over her. It lingered only a moment. With a guttural sound, half-growl and half-broken sigh, he let the shirt slip from his hand and fall to the floor. He closed the distance between them in three long strides, his hands finding her waist with the desperation of a drowning man clutching for air.
His mouth crashed onto hers, crushing, iming. This was a man starved, a king torn in half by curse and fate, finally taking back the one thing that anchored him to sanity.
His lips bruised hers as though he wanted to drink her whole, to remind them both that he was still hers, that no matter what poison fate had dripped between them, his body, his soul, still recognized only her.
Luna gasped into the kiss, her fingers curling into his shoulders as his arms locked around her, pulling her tight against the hard expanse of his chest. Her knees nearly gave way under the sheer force of him, but she smiled in the back of her mind, a triumphant whisper rising from deep within: He is still mine.
Damien didn’t give her time to steady herself. His mouth tore from hers only to trail down the side of her neck, biting, sucking, leaving behind marks that screamed possession. Each scrape of his fangs against her pulse was a reminder of the bond that tied them.
His hands roamed hungrily—palms spanning the curve of her hips, thumbs pressing into her waist.
He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist in instinctive surrender. The move sent a moan tumbling from her lips, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her again, slower now but deeper, more devastating. He carried her to the bed,ying her down. His body covered hers, shielding her, imprisoning her.
Luna’s hands trembled as they explored the hard nes of his chest, nails raking down toward his abdomen. Every part of him felt carved for her touch, sculpted to fit against her softer form. He shuddered beneath her caress, the fight inside him breaking down with every inch of skin she imed.
When his lips closed around the peak of her breast, Luna cried out, her back arching off the sheets. His mouth worshiped her, tongue teasing, teeth scraping, as his hand imed the other, kneading possessively. Every touch said what he refused to voice: I am still yours. I have always been yours.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as her body writhed beneath his. His other hand slid down her thigh, parting her legs, his touch bothmanding and desperate. When his fingers found her, a ragged groan tore from his throat.
He pressed his forehead to her chest for a heartbeat, trembling, before thrusting his fingers inside her, filling her with every ounce of his torment and devotion.
She whispered his name, a plea, a prayer. Damien answered by lowering his body between her legs, lining himself against her heat.
And then he pushed inside her, a single hard thrust that left them both gasping. Luna clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin as he moved, every stroke iming her, branding her, binding her back to him.
Damien buried his face in her neck, his breath ragged.
Damien moved inside her with a punishing rhythm, each thrust shaking the bed beneath them, driving her higher and higher. His silence was deafening, yet his body spoke in a thousand ways—every snap of his hips, every desperate groan, every fevered kiss across her throat.
Luna’s cries filled the room, the sound of a woman being unraveled by the only man who could break and heal her all in the same breath.
"Damien..." she gasped, clinging to him as if the world was falling away. "Say something."
He didn’t answer. His hands spread her thighs wider, his body sinking deeper, iming her over and over until her breath shattered into moans that echoed off the walls.
Tears stung her eyes as pleasure ripped through her, mingled with the ache of his silence. She needed the reassurance, the words she’d once taken for granted. But instead, he only thrust harder, his pace feral, his gaze locked on hers—burning, desperate, tortured. It was all there: the love, the possession, the torment.
He was pouring every unspoken truth into her body.
"Please," she whimpered, nails wing down his back. "Damien, please."
His lips caught hers again, swallowing her plea. He dragged her wrists above her head, pinning them against the mattress, his grip iron-strong but trembling. His thrusts slowed, deeper now, grinding into her with a rhythm that made her body quake around him.
The world narrowed to the molten pressure of him inside her, his mouth moving hungrily along her jaw, down to her throat where his mark was.
She sobbed against him, torn apart by ecstasy and frustration. "Damien... please... "
Again, no words. Only his body responding—his hips mming into hers harder, his breath ragged, his moan muffled against her breast as he took her nipple between his teeth, tugging until she arched violently beneath him.
He released her wrists only to drag her leg higher around his waist, opening her further, taking her deeper until she screamed his name.
The orgasm tore through her, her body convulsing around him, clenching him in a vice that dragged his own release from him. Damien growled low as he buried himself to the hilt and spilled into her, every shuddering pulse binding him back to her womb.
His hand gripped her jaw, tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes as he came, forcing her to see the truth there.
(I’m not so sure I got the emotion here right. I hope you all understand what I was going for.)<fn3f54> Original content can be found at find?novel</fn3f54>
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