Rebirth: Love me Again

[WARNING! MATURE Content ahead!]

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[ESTELLE]

Flesh tore and tender skin bled beneath his relentless pounding. I could feel the hot liquid of blood trickling down my thighs, seeping into the mattress below.

He was like a wild stallion—untamed, raw, pure power and dominance wrapped in the body of a man. Every muscle in his body was taut, flexing with each movement, glistening with sweat under the dim light. He looked like something out of a dream—my dream.

My very own Adonis.

I didn't know what was tumbling from my lips—breathless moans, pleas for more, or incoherent words of pause to catch my breath, even though I was desperate for him not to stop.

Maybe all of them at once.

All I knew was that my body responded to him in ways I'd never imagined, every nerve igniting under his touch, every thrust pushing me further into the abyss of pleasure.

He was relentless, his grip firm yet possessive, his mouth tracing fire along my skin. My fingers dug into his back, clinging to him like he was the only thing tethering me to reality.

"Damien—" His name escaped me in a gasp, half a prayer, half a cry.

His dark chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. "That's right, sweetheart," he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with heat. "Say my name when you come."

And God, I was so close.

Damien didn't care. He just kept going – pounding away at me without mercy or remorse.

"You're so tight," he snarled against my ear, his breath ragged with exertion. "I love how you try to squeeze around me."

His tongue plunged deeper inside my mouth, muffling my groans of ecstasy.

I felt him probing every inch of my cervix, stretching tissue that refused to yield.

The sensation was unbearable, yet somehow . . . incredible?

As I writhed on the bed in torment, he laughed cruelly.

"This is what you want isn't it?" he growled once more. "Me fucking you."

And for some reason, perhaps madness or sheer desperation for him to not stop, I nodded.

"Yes . . . ," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din of my own screams.

"Give me more . . ."

Damien's grin flashed white in the darkness. "Oh . . . I'll give you more," he promised

And with that, he redoubled his efforts, sending me careening into a world of unrelenting pain and pleasure where nothing else mattered except for this moment . . . and him.

As I screamed his name, Damien's cock jerked forward, unloading a torrent of semen deep within me. The pressure built and released in waves, leaving me shuddering on the bed.

But he didn't stop there.

No . . . he just couldn't get enough of just one round.

Before I could even catch my breath, he had pulled out of me once more, eyes blazing with an insatiable hunger.

"You want more?" he snarled, fingers closing around his hardening shaft like a vice. "Because . . . I'm nowhere near done . . . ," he panted, and I love how his chest rise and fell in every ragged breath.

And with that, he plunged into me again – his cock burying itself to the hilt, hitting my womb: this wasn't over yet and I was sure that I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.

I felt myself stretch around him once more, taking every inch without complaint or resistance.

My body was numb by now, senses overwhelmed by all of him and what he was doing to me.

Yet somehow . . . somehow . . . it only made things better.

The next time . . . and the one after that . . . we collided together like two wrecking balls in mid-air.

I was a living, breathing thing now, consumed by this mad dance of pain and pleasure.

And Damien, he was the conductor, orchestrating our symphony of sex and surrender.

As I lay there on the bed, helpless and spent, he finally allowed himself to collapse onto me. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his cock still pulsing weakly within me.

For a moment, just one fleeting moment, we shared a glance that spoke volumes: we just made love in a drunken state and neither one of us was ready to face tomorrow.

And then, without another word.

He pulled out of me once more.

"Not done yet," Damien murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. His voice was lower now, deeper—possessive. Hungry.

"I want more," he whispered again, his lips trailing down my neck, sending a shiver straight to my core.

And more he took.

He moved over me like a man possessed, like he was determined to claim every part of me, again and again. No inch of my skin was left untouched, no part of me left unexplored. He turned me beneath him, pressing my back against the sheets as he took me slow and deep, making me feel every agonizing inch of him.

Then he flipped me over, pulling me against his chest, one hand gripping my waist, the other tilting my chin to meet his gaze before he took me harder, faster.

He whispered my name like a prayer, his lips brushing against my shoulder as his hands traced every curve of my body, memorizing me. And I let him. I let him take what he wanted, as many times as he wanted, because I wanted it too.

By the time dawn started creeping through the windows, my body was spent, trembling in his arms. I knew that when morning fully arrived, when the haze of passion and alcohol faded, Damien would be riddled with guilt. He would look at me with regret shadowing his eyes, his jaw tight with the weight of what we had done.

But I didn't care.

I would take advantage of that guilt. I would use it to show him just how much I loved him, how much this wasn't a mistake, how much we were meant to be.

Because after tonight, there was no going back. This was a once in a lifetime chance to get close to him in a personal level.