Page 22 of Branded By Shadow
“Is that what you call it?” He was so close now his breath warmed my neck, and his scent threatened to cloud my thoughts. “Adjusting?”
“What would you call it?” I turned, forcing myself to hold his gaze, to project a vulnerability I did not feel.
He reached past me, his knuckles brushing my arm as he pushed a hanging curtain of moss aside. The casual touch was a calculated claim. “Acceptance.”
“Maybe they’re the same thing.”
As Damon stalked around me, I deliberately softened my posture, dropping my defensive stance. It was a calculated risk, one that made my heart race with anticipation.
Our supposed alliance against Alexander created a cover I hoped would be perfect. Every willing touch, every soft gasp built his confidence, his absolute belief that I’d trust him.
I didn’t. How could I, when he’d never respected my choices before? How could I possibly believe he’d keep Theo and the others safe? The only thing House Hades really cared about was its own interest, and its desire to keep its Omegas isolated. Maybe House Hera would try, but… Would it really be enough?
I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could take Alexander Stormwright on my own. But surely, there had to be something I could do. Something real.
Until I figured out what that was, I’d just have to play his game. When his hand reached for my arm, I prepared myself, a silent countdown in my head.Three. Two. One.I didn’t flinch. I let his fingers wrap around my wrist, his grip a warm, heavy weight. “You’ve been different lately,” he commented.
His touch sent shivers down my spine, and I didn’t bother to hide it. “Am I?”
Damon nodded. “You’re less afraid. More willing. You’re feeling more... comfortable with my touch.” His fingers tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who was in control. “A week ago you would’ve clawed my eyes out for this.”
“A week ago I didn’t understand what was at stake,” I shot back, meeting his eyes. “We have a common enemy. I agreed to cooperate, Damon. We made a deal.”
He backed me against the rough, cold bark of an ancient subterranean tree, his body caging mine. “A deal, yes,” he murmured, his hands sliding up my sides, grazing the undersides of my breasts. “But we both know what you’re really here for.”
In one savage motion, he ripped my dress from my body. The sound of tearing fabric cracked through the silence, echoing offthe glass and stone. “Isn’t that right, Cora? You know what you agreed to.”
He unbuckled his belt — that metallic click, sharp and final — and freed himself. I barely had time to inhale before the blunt head of his cock pressed against me, hot and unyielding.
“Wait—”
“No.” His voice was a low, primal growl. He caught my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand, his body pressing mine into the bark. “No more waiting.”
The first thrust stole my breath. The second lifted me. My feet left the ground as he seized my thighs, hauling them up around his hips. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he drove into me again. He held me easily, as if I weighed nothing. I hated that I found that as arousing as I did.
His strength was unrelenting, pinning me upright while the tree groaned under our bodies. “Look at you,” he rasped. “Taking me like you were made for it. So tight. So wet. Your body knows who it belongs to.”
I tried to resist, but my body betrayed me. My heels dug into his lower back for balance, my wrists straining in his grip. My muscles clenched around him, drawing a low, guttural sound from his throat. Every thrust sank deeper, harder, until the pressure built too fast, too hot, too much.
In a desperate act of defiance, I focused on a cluster of pale, tightly shut moon orchids hanging nearby.Open,I commanded silently, trying to channel the defiant energy coursing through me.Open now!
A nearby leaf withered and turned brown, a testament to the wrongness of my effort. My attempt at control had only brought decay. I was trapped, and could only surrender to the pleasure.
He held me there, impaled and helpless, and set a brutal, relentless rhythm. My head fell back, and all I could see were the glowing fungi on the ceiling, pulsing in time with his thrusts.
My mind was a storm, but my body was a shameless accomplice, my inner muscles clenching around him with every punishing thrust. The scent of him, of my own arousal, of the damp earth and blooming flowers, was an intoxicating, overwhelming cocktail.
Every atom in my body was screaming with the need to come. I was so close I could feel it, taste it, smell it. But it wasn’t enough for Damon.
With a sudden snarl, he pulled out, leaving me gasping and empty. Before I could fall, he spun me and forced me to my hands and knees in the soft, thick moss. The position was a shock, a raw, primal display of submission that stole the breath from my lungs.
“This is how you were meant to be,” he whispered in my ear as he entered me from behind. The new angle was deeper,more primal. I felt utterly exposed, completely at his mercy. “Presented for your Alpha. Ready to be filled. Ready to be claimed.”
Every word was a brand, every thrust a violation that my body welcomed with a fresh wave of slickness. He set a frantic, punishing pace, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back so my neck was arched, exposed. His other hand splayed across my lower back, pressing me down, holding me in place for his assault.
“You are mine, Cora,” he growled. “You fought, and you lost. Now tell me who you belong to.”
“I...” My mind was blanking, dissolving into pure sensation. The world had narrowed to the feel of the soft moss on my palms, the brutal rhythm of his hips, the scent of his claim.
