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Another Broken Girl
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2025-09-22 20:37:34
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Damien's Willing Captive Incoming
Damien’s POV Stupid fucking dream. How many times did I cum? I stared down at myself, jaw clenched, fury boiling beneath my skin. Disgust. Shame. Frustration. All tangled up in the mess she left behind—even in my sleep. Sheets tangled around my legs. Sweat slicked across my chest. My cock still rock-hard and aching like it hadn’t finished what it started. I sat up slowly, the taste of her still in my mouth, the ghost of her heat still pulsing between my thighs. Fuck. I raked a hand through my hair, breathing like I’d run five miles through a war zone. My fists clenched. My teeth ground together so hard I thought I’d crack a molar. She had no right to torment me this way. Not after what she did. Not after what she took. I swung my legs off the bed and stood, not bothering to look at the clock. The house was still wrapped in silence, but I didn’t care. I stormed to the private gym downstairs, each step heavier than the last. Fury trailed after me like a shadow
Damien's Willing Captive The Echo of Her Moans
Damien’s POV The others exhaled together, snickers, laughter, approval laced with malice. “Goddamn,” Dev muttered with a grin. “That’s brutal.” Mateo shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re sick.” Jaxon, though, leaned back, grinning like a soldier ready to go to war. “And when you finally take her—what then?” I looked at him. There was no amusement in my eyes now. “I’ll break her so beautifully, she’ll forget her own fucking name. Then I’ll remind her.” Dev raised his glass. “To future weddings.” “To death wishes,” I added, and we clinked tumblers like men toasting to vengeance. A beat passed. Then I looked over at Jaxon again. “What did you do with Cleo?” He shrugged. “Nothing serious.” “Define ‘nothing serious.’” “She was being too fucking loud.” My brow arched. “We just cut off her tongue.” My lips twitched. “Just her tongue?” “Scout’s honor,” he said with a mock-salute. “Didn’t kill her. Yet. We figured she might still be useful.
Damien's Willing Captive Another Broken Girl
Damien’s POV “Are you out of your goddamn mind, Ellie?” I growled, voice low and sharp, slicing through the silence like a knife. The steering wheel groaned beneath my tightening grip. “It’s just a little favor, Damien,” she said gently, voice small, as if she already knew I was a grenade seconds from exploding. “No. No, it’s not just a little favor. You need a damn crisis team,” I snapped. “You want me to accommodate your pregnant friend? Who’s being abused by her boyfriend? Here?” “She’s scared, Damien—” “And you think my house is a fucking shelter for the abused?” Silence crackled on the line. I could almost see her flinch. I ran a hand through my hair, jaw locked. “What place do you even have to care for someone going through that? You’re still being dragged through your own goddamn hell.” Her breath hitched. I didn’t stop. “What the fuck is wrong with your circle, Ellie? Did you all sign a fucking deal with the devil to get tr
Damien's Willing Captive My Rage
Damien’s POV The sound of shattering glass brought Olivia’s head snapping toward me. “Damien?” she asked softly. I looked up. Her eyes were wide, pupils flickering across my face like she was trying to read my every micro-expression. Her father straightened in his seat. “Everything alright, son?” I blinked once. Twice. Then I laughed—short, sharp, and brittle. “Yeah,” I said, brushing glass shards off my hand. “Just clumsy fingers. Must be the wine.” “Okay… but who’s getting engaged?” she asked, one brow arched, suspicion flickering in her eyes. I hesitated, scrambling for something that didn’t sound like a lie. “Umm… a friend. Someone I used to know.” Her gaze sharpened. “Do I know them too?” “No.” I shook my head a little too quickly. “Just drop it, Liv. It’s not a big deal. I just… wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “Are you sure about that? Because you looked like someone punched you in the gut.” I could still
Damien's Willing Captive Just Her Name
Damien’s POV I stormed into my room like a man with no soul left to lose. Cleo’s screams echoed faintly behind me—muffled now by distance and solid walls. Or maybe by Jaxon’s fist. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck. The second the bedroom door slammed shut, I stripped off my shirt, kicked off my pants, and marched straight into the bathroom, bare feet slapping against cold marble. The lights flicked on with a motion sensor’s hum, and I stepped under the freezing downpour of the shower without pause. The cold hit me like a punch, but I welcomed it. I needed it. I braced both hands against the tile wall, head bowed under the spray as water coursed down my body. My fists clenched. Fucking Cleo. I should’ve thrown her out weeks ago. The only reason she’d lasted this long was because of how she helped the company when shit went sideways. But seducing Randy? My youngest staff? In my house? That was the final goddamn straw. And the worst part? She dared. She fucking dare
Damien's Willing Captive Taking Out Trash
Damien’s POV Cleo dropped to her knees, naked desperation painted across her face. “He forced himself on me!” she cried, clutching at her chest, dragging in ragged breaths like she was the victim here. “I didn’t want it—he just grabbed me! Damien, you have to believe me!” I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “That’s what you said the last time,” I murmured. “With Jaxon.” Her lips parted. “And now the same fucking story?” I scoffed. “Are you really that shameless?” She crawled forward, clutching at my ankle. “You left me! You left me horny and aching and ran off like a trained mutt to your fucking deranged sister!” I flinched—but only for a second. My jaw clenched as I stared down at her. For a split second, the urge to slam her head against the wall was volcanic. White-hot rage surged through my veins. But she wasn’t worth the mess she’d make on my tile floors. “Just get out of my house, Cleo.” My voice was low, even, lethal. “I don’t want to see you. Ever. Again.” She
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