Page 24 of Trapped By the Cartel

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Before I could respond, he began to move, pulling out slowly, torturously, only to slide back in just as gradually, drawing a long, low moan from my lips.

It was agony, pure and simple. Agony because it felt so good, so right, that I knew I would never be able to live without it now. Agony because he was taking his sweet time, drawing out the anticipation, building the tension until I thought I might burst. In a way, he was kind of evil.

"You're killing me," I groaned, arching my back as he hit that spot deep inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. "Please, Damon…"

"What is it you want, little omega?" He taunted, his pace remaining maddeningly steady despite my pleas. "Tell me exactly what you need."

"I need... I need..." I stammered, my thoughts scattering as he rolled his hips, grinding against that sensitive bundle of nerves. "Faster... harder..."

Damon's response was a dark, predatory smile that sent shivers down my spine. "As you wish," he growled, picking up speed, slamming into me with increasing force. The table beneath us creaked and groaned under the onslaught, mirroring the sensations coursing through my body.

With each thrust, he claimed another piece of me, branding me as his own. And as I lay there, helpless and writhing beneath him, I realized that I didn't mind one bit. In fact, I craved it – I craved him – more than anything else in the world.

As if reading my mind, Damon suddenly shifted gears, his hips snapping forward with greater urgency. His thick length filled me over and over again, the head of his cock brushing against that magical spot deep inside me that made my visionblur and my toes curl. I realized, in that moment, how experienced he was.

But he didn't stop there. Oh no, that wouldn't be nearly enough for an alpha like him. Not when he could have so much more control, so much more dominance.

His right hand wrapped around my aching cock, stroking it in rhythm with his powerful thrusts. Every time he drove into me, he pulled upward on my shaft, twisting slightly at the tip to send jolts of electricity shooting through me. It was pure pleasure.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out, my hands clawing at his broad back, searching for something—anything—to ground me amidst the storm of sensation, but there wasn't much more than that. "That feels too good!"

Damon merely grinned, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. "Too good?" He echoed, his thumb rubbing circles around the sensitive head of my cock. "Or just right?"

Before I could answer, he picked up the pace even further, his hips pistoning like a well-oiled machine. Each snap of his hips brought a guttural grunt from his lips, the sound vibrating through me.

The table beneath us shook violently, the legs scraping against the polished floor as we rutted. My moans mingled with his growls, creating a chorus of desire that filled the vast dining room, echoing off the walls and bouncing back to envelop us once more.

"So close," I panted, my orgasm building rapidly, threatening to overwhelm me at any second. "Damon, please... I can't hold back much longer." And I truly, really couldn't.

In response, he leaned down, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. Our tongues clashed, our teeth clicked, and our breaths became one as he continued to pound into me, his hand working my cock with all his experience.

I could taste myself on his tongue, the salty tang of precum mixing with the unique flavor that was entirely Damon. It only served to drive me wilder, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

He broke away briefly, his forehead resting against mine as he gazed deeply into my eyes. "Cum for me, Elliot," he commanded. "Show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart."

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he pushed me over the precipice, sending me tumbling into oblivion.

My entire body convulsed, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I came undone in his arms. My release coated his hand, hot and sticky, marking him as surely as if I had claimed him instead of the other way around.

But even as I rode out the aftermath of my orgasm, Damon showed no signs of slowing down. No, he simply adjusted his grip, using my slickness to stroke me faster, harder, determined to draw out every last drop of pleasure from my trembling form. The man was relentless.

I couldn't believe it. Even after everything, even after making me come harder than I ever had before, he still wasn't done with me. He wanted more. Needed more.

And as I looked up into those ice-blue eyes, I realized that I wanted to give it to him. All of it. Everything I had and more.

Damon's breath grew ragged, his movements jerky and erratic as he chased his own release. The sight of him teetering on the brink, so uncharacteristically vulnerable, ignited a fire within me. I wanted to see him lose control, to watch him shatter, and that was exactly what was going to happen.

His hips stuttered, his cock throbbing inside me as he neared the edge. I could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin as he held himself back by sheerwillpower alone. However, I could tell it wasn't going to last long.

"Not yet," he growled between clenched teeth, his fingers digging painfully into my hip. "Not until I say so."

But I knew he was close. Too close. And I wanted—no, needed—to push him over the edge.

With a defiant smirk, I tightened my inner muscles, squeezing his cock like a vice. A feral groan tore from his throat, his eyes rolling back as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fuck, Elliot," he rasped, his voice laced with warning. "You're playing with fire."

"And what if I want to get burned?" I taunted, locking gazes with him, daring him to take what he truly desired.

---