Page 47 of Dark Therapy

I pressed my hand against my chest, as if that could somehow still the wild beating of my heart, but it only served to remind me how utterly out of control I felt. It was as though he was there, his presence woven into the air, the darkness whispering his name back to me. Each word of his still echoed, simmering, pressing deeper into me, into that secret, hidden place I wished I could ignore. But he knew, somehow he always knew exactly what his words did to me, exactly how theytwistedaround my senses and left me teetering on the edge of somethingdangerous, something I didn’t want to name.

My breaths came quicker, shallow, as though the very air was thickened with him, as though he’d filled the room with his presence, haunting and relentless. The warmth that had begun in my cheeks spread, curling around my spine, my body betraying me as desire warred with defiance, both of them twisted and tangled together in a way I couldn’t pull apart.

“Damien,” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice, soft and breathy, as if I was summoning a demon I knew I couldn’t control. But maybe that was exactly what he wanted. And maybe, in some dark, forbidden part of me… it was what I wanted too.

DARK DEVOTION

Damien

FuckingDamien.

Every time her lips shape my name, it’s like a goddamn hymn written just for me—a siren’s call, soft and unassuming, dripping with a sweetness she doesn’t fucking realize she’s handing over on a silver platter. She has no idea what that sound does to me, how it tears me apart and stitches me back together into something darker. Somethingmonstrous.

It’s almost laughable, really. She says it like she’s safe from the storm brewing inside me. That soft whisper, thatinnocentmurmur, fuels everyfilthythought in my head, pushing them deeper into places even I don’t want to tread. It ignites a fire, a raw, gnawinghunger, twisting and expanding until it’s all I can think about. I could fuckingkneelbefore her, build an altar andlay her down as if she’s something holy—something I need toworshipanddesecrateall at once.

Because that’s what she does to me. That’s what her voice, her name, her existence fucking does. It drives me to want to claim her,breakher, reshape her into something new. To take her again andagain, until there’s no innocence left to cling to, until every single part of her is drenched in me. Body. Mind. Soul.

And now, as I watch her sprawled on that fucking couch, bathed in the blue flicker of her TV, I can see everything. Legs wide open, her hand between her thighs, her pussy slick with her own need.Fuck. The glow from the screen catches the sheen of her skin, illuminating her in a way that feelsobscene, like a private goddamn performance made just for me.

“Doit,” I growl, my voice low and guttural, the words catching in my throat as my grip tightens around my cock. The screen mounted on my wall burns with her image—crystal clear, in fucking high definition. Because I made sure it would be. Bought the best there was. Set the perfect angles. I wanted to see her in every fucking detail. Every flick of her wrist. Everyshudderof her body. Every goddamn moment she thought she was alone.

The screen isn’t just a window into her life—it’s my fuckingthrone. My domain. I’ve studied her long enough to know when she’s teetering on the edge of control, when her mind fights against the pull she doesn’t even realize I’ve wrapped around her. I can see it now, the way her breath hitches, the slighttremorin her hand as she dips her fingers lower, as she fights her own hesitation.

“Fucking do it, Millie,” I command again, louder this time, my voice like a whip cutting through the silence of my darkened room.

And that was the fuckingthrill, wasn’t it? Knowing she was performing forme, stripping herself bare in ways she wouldn’t dare even in front of her own reflection. Every twitch of her lips, every hesitation, every fucking second she let herself unravel—it was mine.All mine. Her innocence and depravity, tangled together in a way that made me want totearher apart just to put her back together again.

She had no idea, not really, how deeply I lived in her. Every flick of her wrist, every bite of her lip, every goddamnmoan—it all fed this dark, insatiable beast clawing inside me. I sat there, eyes glued to the screen, cock in hand, stroking to the rhythm she set with her trembling fingers. My chest tightened as I watched her slide one inside her dripping cunt, her head falling back, her lips parting like a prayer on the verge of being spoken.

Andfuck me, when she moaned—soft, breathy, just loud enough to send my pulse into a goddamn frenzy—it was like a fuckingtrigger. My vision tunneled, the world outside her image dissolving into static. There was onlyher, caught in this beautiful, obscene dance.

The way she bit down on her bottom lip, the subtle arch of her back as she slid a second finger inside—God. It made me want to break her. Tomarkher. To own every inch of her until she was nothing but a ruined masterpiece withmyname etched into every trembling breath she took. My fist tightened around my cock, matching her rhythm as the thought consumed me, as the hunger ripped through me like a fucking wildfire.

And then her voice—breathless, hesitant,perfect. “A… are you touching yourself too?” she asked, her words shaky, lips trembling as she surrendered to the need consuming her.

I almost laughed, a low, guttural sound that sent chills through my own spine. My cock answered her before I could, throbbing in my grip, slick with the evidence of how fucking far gone I was. “Yes,” I murmured into the phone, my voice rough, dripping with a darkness she couldn’t begin to understand.

She didn’t fucking know, did she? How much power she had over me in that moment. She didn’t realize that every sound she made, every flicker ofpleasureon her face, was dragging me deeper into this abyss where nothing else mattered buther. It wasn’t just lust; it wasmadness. A hunger so raw, so twisted, it left no room for anything else.

Her lips parted again, her moans filling my ears, wrapping around me like a noose. Watching her fuck herself with trembling fingers, knowing she was getting off at the thought ofme, knowing she couldfeelmy eyes in her—it was almost too much.

My innocent whore.

“Add a third one, sweetheart,” I growled into the phone, my voice thick, hoarse with desire. “Fuck yourself the way you’d want me to fuck you.Hard.Deep. Like I’m tearing you apart.”

She gasped, her body arching slightly, her fingers hesitating for just a moment before slipping back inside her. Andfuck, when she obeyed—when she moanedmynamelike it was a plea, a confession, a goddamnsurrender—I almost lost it. My cock throbbed painfully in my hand, every nerve in my body alight with the knowledge that she was mine, that she was breaking herself open forme, just as I’d fucking commanded.

This wasn’t just obsession anymore. This was possession. And I’d carve that truth into herflesh, into hersoul, until the whole goddamn world knew she belonged to me.

I watched, every nerve snapping like live wires, as her trembling fingers plunged into herself. She was shaking, raw, fucking beautiful—her face contorted with a pleasure sopureit was obscene. It wasn’t just pleasure; it was a goddamnreckoning, something feral, something that clawed at the edges of sanity and left me gasping for air.

The sound of her slick fingers pounding into that dripping cunt?Fuck, it was like gasoline dumped straight into the fire burning in my veins. I felt like I might fuckingexplode, right there, like some pathetic, desperate bastard who couldn’t even keep it together long enough to watch her finish.

“Shit, Millie. You’re fucking drenched. Do you hear it? That sound? That’s mine. All fuckingmine,” I growled, my voice a raw snarl that barely scraped past my teeth. Her moans—loud, wild, uncontrolled—drove meinsane. I wanted toruinher, to bury myself in every inch of her, to fuck her until the only thing she knew was me. To mark her, scar her soul with the kind of pleasure that leaves her shattered and begging formore.

I watched the way her hips bucked, her thighs trembling as she came, her lip caught between her teeth, already bruised from trying to muffle herself. “Don’t you fuckingdarehold back,” I spat, voice shaking with the effort to keep from breaking. “I want to hear it.Screamfor me, Amelia. Let me fucking drown in it.”

The way her body arched, her fingers trembling as they slipped out of her, was enough to snap whatever flimsy leash I had left. And then—fuckme—she slid those wet fingers into hermouth, her tongue swirling over them like they were candy made just for her.

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