Page 25 of Trapped By the Cartel

Something primal flashed across his face, a raw hunger that sent a thrill coursing through me. In that moment, I felt it—the connection between us, wild and untamed, a force neither of us could deny or control.

He slammed into me with renewed vigor, each thrust punctuated by a low, animalistic grunt. His hand worked my spent cock with expert precision, drawing forth unexpected waves of pleasure that left me gasping and writhing beneath him.

"I'm going to fill you up," he snarled. "Mark you as mine in the most carnal way possible."

"Yes," I moaned, my fingernails raking down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. "Do it. Claim me. Make me yours."

His rhythm faltered, his cock swelling impossibly larger within me as he reached the point of no return. With a final, powerful surge, he buried himself deep inside me, his hot seed pulsing forth in thick ropes, coating my insides.

I could feel it—every scorching spurt, every pulse of his length—as he emptied himself completely within me. Thesensation was exquisite, unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was as if our bodies were merging, becoming one, bound together by something far stronger than physical pleasure.

As he continued to spill into me, I could sense the change taking place. An invisible tether snapped into existence, linking us irrevocably. I belonged to him now, just as he belonged to me. And the best thing about that? He wanted it so much.

When the last wave of his orgasm subsided, Damon collapsed onto me, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His heart pounded against mine, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together as we lay entwined.

For several long moments, neither of us spoke. We didn't need to. Words would never be enough to convey the depth of emotion passing between us, the profound shift that had occurred in the space of mere minutes.

Finally, Damon raised his head, his gaze softening as he took in my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a rare moment of tenderness amidst the storm of desire that had consumed us both.

"You're mine now," he whispered, tracing the line of my jaw with his fingertips. "All mine."

And as I stared up into those icy blue eyes, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was right. There was no use denying it—not to myself, not to him. I belonged to Damon Vexley, heart, soul, and body.

As for what tomorrow might bring... well, that was a question for another day. For now, there was only this moment.

Chapter 12

Damon

Our bodies spooned together, limbs tangled together. I ran my fingers through Elliot's disheveled curls, watching as the moonlight danced upon the sandy strands. My omega was quiet, contemplative, but I could sense the whirlwind of thoughts swirling behind those hazel eyes.

"What's on your mind, little omega?" I asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

He hesitated before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "This changes nothing, you know."

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I had expected as much from my stubborn little omega. "Is that so?"

"Yes." He nodded firmly, his chin set in determination. "We had a moment—an incredible moment—but that's all it was. Just a moment."

Just a moment? Oh, I didn't know about that.

I chuckled, trailing my fingertips along his arm, feeling goosebumps erupt under my touch. "Oh, Elliot. Always so full of pride and denial."

He bristled, pulling away slightly. "It's not denial. I'm simply stating facts."

Did he really think that? Did he really think I could believe him?

"Facts, huh?" I countered, shifting my weight to pin him beneath me, my hands caging his head in on either side. "Then let's talk facts. You're here, in my bed, after I've just claimed you thoroughly. Your scent is all over my sheets, your heat still clings to my skin, and yet you insist that none of this means anything?"

It was baffling, really.

His breath hitched, his pupils dilating as he gazed up at me. "You... you can't hold me captive forever."

"No," I agreed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "But I don't have to. You're not a prisoner, Elliot. Not unless you want to be."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please. Like I have any choice."

He had plenty of choices, actually. He just didn't like any of them.

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