Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

‎Lucien pulled Lyra into her room and shut the door. She felt the pool of heat at her core in anticipation of what Lucien was going to do to her.‎He captured her lips in a searing kiss while his hand rummaged her body.‎He took off the straps of her dress leaving her in just her panties.‎He caressed her breast and pinched her nipples. His mouth wrapped around her breast, harsh and demanding. He swirled his tongue around her buds before biting down on it, drawing a hiss from her.‎He traced her stomach down the her core with his fingers, dipping his fingers in her panties he grazed her folds lightly, teasing her. In an instant he shoved three of his fingers in her aggressively and began fucking her—enjoying her screams, he raised one of her legs by placing his arm under the knees, giving him more access to continue his assault in her pussy.‎“I promised Kane I was going to teach you a good lesson sweetheart.”‎His relentless fingers continue pumping in and out of her alternating betw

‎Kane stood by the edge of the bed, watching Castelle’s chest rise and fall slowly, her face turned away, lashes damp against her cheeks. She looked peaceful—finally. He’d held her until her trembling subsided, whispered to her until her breathing evened out. Convinced she had fallen asleep, he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and pulled the blanket higher over her frame.‎‎Then, wordlessly, he left the room.‎‎Downstairs, Lucien and Matteo stood waiting in the office, thick silence between them. The photographs had been locked away, but the damage lingered in the air. Kane entered with a heavy, quiet anger, the door shutting behind him like the final stroke of a war drum.‎‎“I made a mistake,” Kane began coldly, pouring a glass of water but not drinking it. “Sparing Warren Blackwell and everyone who hurt her was a mistake.” “i was too worried about not scaring her.”‎‎Lucien exchanged a look with Matteo. “You think he was the one who delivered the photos?”‎‎“No. I know the b

‎The door clicked shut behind Lucien.‎‎He rolled his shoulders, the weight of the dungeon still clinging to him. Blood had stained the hem of his sleeves, and though he'd washed his hands, the scent of violence lingered.‎‎He was halfway across the room when he froze.‎There—by the foot of the bed, curled on the floor—was Lyra.‎‎Her legs were tucked beneath her, arms wrapped around them, face buried deep in the crook of her knees. Her body trembled with each ragged breath, the sound of her sniffling muffled but unmistakable.‎‎Lucien’s heart dropped.‎“Lyra?” he said softly.‎No answer.‎‎He knelt instantly, reaching out. “Hey—hey, what happened?”‎He touched her shoulder and gently pulled her face up.‎Her eyes were red. Swollen. Tear-streaked. She looked broken in a way Lucien didn’t know she could be.‎‎Panic bloomed in his chest.‎“Are you hurt?” His hands cupped her cheeks, scanning her frantically. “Did someone touch you? Did someone—”‎She shook her head, small and trem

‎‎The heavy iron doors to the dungeon groaned open. The air inside was damp, thick with the stench of blood and sweat, echoing with the faint groans of the two people shackled against the far stone wall.‎‎Castelle froze at the threshold.‎‎Kane felt her stiffen beside him, her fingers curling tighter around his sleeve. He looked down at her—face pale, lips slightly parted, fear lodged deep in her eyes.‎‎“You don’t have to be afraid of them anymore,” he said calmly. “You have power now. You don’t need to whisper about your pain—you can scream it into their faces.”‎‎She swallowed, her feet glued to the ground.‎‎Kane narrowed his eyes, took a step closer to her ear, voice low and provoking, “Or maybe they were right about you. Just a whore for different men, like they said. Useless. Disgusting. A dog.”‎‎Her head jerked toward him.‎‎Tears formed, not from hurt—but fury. Her lips trembled, chest rising and falling as emotions warred inside her. And then—‎‎Snap.‎‎Her jaw lo

‎‎Back at the mansion, the living room was quiet, save for the low hum of the fireplace and the occasional crackle of wood. The storm outside had settled. Inside, the four of them lay lazily across the oversized sofa, pairs wrapped in warmth and each other.‎‎Lucien lounged on one side, Lyra curled half on top of him, her cheek pressed to his chest. His hand stroked slow circles across her back, fingers threading through strands of her hair now and then. Every so often, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.‎‎Across from them, Matteo lay with Mason tucked under his arm, one leg tangled with his. Mason’s fingers traced aimless patterns along Matteo’s stomach beneath his shirt, his movements absent, thoughtful. Matteo returned the touch with a slow drag of his knuckles across Mason’s arm.‎‎The quiet stretched on, comfortable but heavy.‎‎Finally, Mason broke it.‎‎"Do you think… Castelle is doing okay?" His voice was soft, almost guilty for asking.‎‎Lucien glanced up, sti