Page 44 of Trapped By the Cartel

"Not enough," he growled, releasing my arms only to push my legs apart roughly. He settled between them, his gaze locked onto mine as he began to stroke himself leisurely. "Be specific, Elliot. Tell me exactly how you want me."

The sight of him pleasuring himself sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. I licked my lips, my eyes never leaving his hand as it moved up and down his length.

"I want you to cum on me," I said finally. "Everywhere. I want to be marked by your seed again."

A wicked grin spread across his face, and he increased the speed of his strokes. "Is that what you want?" he rasped, his breathing growing ragged. "To be covered in my cum?"

"Yes," I whimpered, writhing beneath him. "Mark me, Damon."

His grunts grew louder, more primal, as he continued to pleasure himself. The room filled with the sounds of our labored breaths and the wet slap of skin hitting skin.

Suddenly, he pulled away, straddling my chest instead. His hand moved faster, more insistently, and I knew he was close.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, eyes glinting with evil intent.

Obediently, I complied, sticking out my tongue as he aimed his cock towards my waiting mouth. With a final, strangled groan, he came, thick ropes of semen painting my face, my neck, and my chest.

I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of his essence coating my skin. When I opened them again, Damon was watching me with an intensity that made my heart race.

Leaning down, he kissed me deeply, tasting himself on my lips. "You look fucking beautiful like this," he murmured, trailing his fingers through the mess on my face before bringing them to my mouth. I suckled greedily, cleaning off every last drop.

Damon's Epilogue

10 years later…

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Nightshade Wolves' compound in a warm, golden glow. Ten years had passed since the chaos that once threatened to tear everything apart. Now, the pack thrived under a renewed sense of unity and purpose.

I stood on the porch of our sprawling home, watching as our son, Stellan, chased after Marcus' youngest pup, Sable. Their laughter echoed through the air, pure and carefree, contrasting with the dark days of yore.

At ten years old, Stellan was the spitting image of his father – his delicate features softened only slightly by the strength of my alpha blood coursing through his veins. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and intelligence, and his laugh held the same infectious warmth that had drawn me to Elliot all those years ago.

"Look at him," Elliot said softly, stepping up beside me. He wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning his head against my shoulder. "He's grown so much."

I placed a hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "He has indeed," I agreed, pride swelling within me. "He's becoming quite the little warrior."

Elliot chuckled, looking up at me with those expressive eyes. "He gets that from you, you know. The stubbornness, the determination..."

"And the quick wit?" I added, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, pushing playfully at my chest. "Well, he does take after both of us in that regard."

Our banter was easy now, natural and comfortable—something that had taken time and patience to cultivate. Over the past decade, we'd worked tirelessly to rebuild not just our territory, but also our relationship. It hadn't always been smooth sailing; there were storms along the way, challenges that tested our resolve and pushed us to our limits.

But together, we weathered every storm, growing stronger with each passing day. And now, standing here side by side, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that we would face whatever came next as one.

Our bond had deepened, blossoming into something far more profound than either of us could have imagined. We'd learned to communicate openly, honestly, and without fear of judgment. In doing so, we discovered that our connection ran deeper than mere lust or even love—instead, it was a primal, soul-deep link that transcended time and space.

"You've done well, Damon," Elliot murmured, his gaze locked onto mine. "You've made Nightshade Wolves into something extraordinary."

"The pack wouldn't exist without you too" I replied, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "Your presence, your wisdom... they've shaped us into who we are today."

His cheeks flushed pink at the compliment, but before he could respond, Stellan raced towards us, breathless andgrinning. "Dad!" He exclaimed, launching himself at us with abandon. We caught him easily, laughing as we lifted him off the ground, hugging him tightly between us.

"Yes, little wolf?" Elliot asked, smiling down at him affectionately.

"I found a new den for me and Luna," Stellan announced proudly. "It's bigger than last week's!"

"That sounds amazing," Elliot praised, ruffling his hair. "Show us later?"

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