a desperate plea

But instead of pity, Aurora’s pleas only seemed to excite Damian more. His smile grew, a dark gleam in his eyes. “Your innocence is what I paid for, little one,” he said, his voice a low purr. “Now, stand up and let me see what I bought.”

Aurora’s heart pounded as she clutched the dress to her chest, the thin fabric barely covering her shaking body. She knew she had no choice but to obey, so she slowly rose to her feet. Each step she took backward only brought Damian closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over her. She could feel his breath on her neck, smell the faint scent of whiskey. He reached out, his hand brushing her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Slowly,” he said in a dark whisper that felt like it wrapped around her. “I want to savor this.”

Aurora swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she started to unbutton the dress. The fabric slid down, leaving her body bare in the cold air. She tried to keep her eyes on the floor, not wanting to see the hunger in his stare, but she could feel it like a touch. When the dress pooled around her feet, she was left only in the thin lingerie Madam Elena had given her.

Without waiting, Damian stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. His hands were strong, like iron bands around her waist. She struggled, her legs kicking as she tried to find balance on the carpet, but he was too strong. “Please, no!” she cried, her voice thick with fear. But he ignored her.

Eyes shut tightly, Aurora felt the wall of his chest against her back, his breath hot on her neck. He chuckled at her attempts to escape, his grip tightening as he seemed to enjoy her fear. “You’re only making it better,” he murmured, his voice rough in her ear. “I love a good fight.”

With tears in her eyes, Aurora whispered, “Please, I’ll do anything, just not this.” Her voice was barely a whisper, lost in her fear. She didn’t look up, afraid of the coldness she’d see in his eyes.

Damian tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her to look at him. He looked into her eyes, searching for a spark of resistance, a hint of defiance. But all he saw was a girl on the brink of breaking. He felt a thrill at the power he held over her, but also something else stirred at her vulnerability. He wasn’t used to his conquests being so... innocent. “Why are you so unwilling?” he asked, his voice amused. “Many women beg for my attention.”

Aurora’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, her lip trembling. “Because I’m not a whore,” she spat. “I’m not here by choice.”

Damian’s face grew cold at her words, his grip on her chin almost painful. “Choices are a luxury for those who can afford them,” he said. “You belong to me now. And I will do with you as I please.”

With a strength that shocked her, he tossed Aurora onto the bed. She landed with a thud, her breath knocked out of her. Before she could move, he was on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Aurora’s eyes widened in terror as she pushed against him. “Please,” she begged again, her voice shaking, “I’ll do anything. I’ll be your servant, your maid, your... anything.” But she didn’t want this.

Damian’s smile was cruel as he leaned close, his nose brushing hers. “You’ll be what I want you to be,” he whispered, his voice a seductive threat. He began to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. Aurora flinched, her whole body tense. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, a reminder of what was coming.

Summoning her strength, Aurora shoved against his chest with all she had, pushing him back. He stumbled, giving her a chance to scramble off the bed. She backed away, her heels catching as the room spun around her.

Damian’s smile widened, a glint in his eyes. “You think you can fight me?” he asked, amused. He took a step forward, his movements slow and predatory. “You’re mine now, Aurora. You’ll learn to submit or you’ll regret it.”

Aurora’s back hit the wall, her eyes wild with fear. She knew she had no chance against him. She could feel the heat of his body closing in, his breath hot on her skin. Panic took hold, her mind racing for an escape. But she was trapped, like a butterfly pinned down, with him ready to capture her.

“Very well,” he said, his voice low and dark. “Put on your clothes.”

The words were unexpected, a sudden relief from the horror she’d felt. She blinked, unsure if she had heard him right. She grabbed the dress from the floor and quickly slipped it on, the rough fabric scratching her skin. Each movement felt like a small victory, a tiny step toward reclaiming her dignity.