Romans & histoires Damian Cowper

“You have about twelve hours, Mr. Cole. I’d suggest you use them. And I’d strongly suggest you don’t tell Elena yet she’s been through enough for one day.” The call ended. Damian stood in the corridor of an Interpol office at six-fifteen on a rainy Thursday evening, twelve hours from something he couldn’t yet see, holding two coffee cups and the knowledge that the woman on the other side of that door had just, tentatively, against all reason, begun to let him back in. And his mother was about to try to take it all apart again………

He read: "Saw him today. The junior tournament. Number 17. Rebels. He scored twice. I couldn't stop staring." Sebastian's brow furrowed. "I asked around. His name is Damian Volkov. He's from the same city as me. He plays with a chip on his shoulder, like he's trying to prove something. I want to know what." Damian turned the page. "Day 47. We played the Rebels again. I checked him into the boards. He got up and smiled at the ref. I wanted to kill the ref." Sebastian's mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

Damian had used every piece of dirt Alex had uncovered, every hidden liability, every Cayman shell company, and turned it into leverage that made the other side fold like cheap paper. Damian raised his glass to the room, voice smooth and commanding. “To the team that made this happen. Especially to Alex Rivera, who saw what no one else did.” A polite round of applause followed. Alex forced a smile and clinked glasses with the people around him, but his eyes kept sliding to Damian. The man looked like a king who had just conquered another kingdom. Charcoal suit perfectly tailored, tie loosened just enough to show the strong line of his throat, dark eyes bright with victory. And under the tabl

Damian rose and walked towards him with a smile curving his lips. “I checked your numbers Costa.” Damian abruptly said as he sauntered towards him “7 locations across 5 states, each with the capacity of bringing in a minimum of 5 million dollars every month—yet they aren't, So since I'm a trusting man I thought maybe customers have dropped but nope that wasn't it, so if customers are still flooding in and nothing has interrupted the flow of income, why are your numbers so low.”

The lies. Damian gritted his teeth and brought the glass to his lips, the whiskey burning as it went down. He couldn’t let it go, not yet. Lucas was dead, but there was still unfinished business. With a deep breath, Damian dialed a number. It rang twice before a gruff voice answered. “This is Carter.” “It’s me,” Damian said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “Mr. Wolfe,” Carter replied, his tone immediately more formal. “What can I do for you?”

Damian couldn't sit and wait for a miracle to come. He couldn't concentrate on his work after thinking about how Taggart would marry Pearl without resistance. He was also the CEO of The Bronk Corporation. However, he was in a distinct line of industry compared to Excellor. After he acknowledged Pearl, Damian changed his mind to do business expansion. "Damn, I must have to find a way out!" he grumbled in annoyance. Pearl had stolen his mind, although he didn't want to admit it. He threw off his pen before taking his phone to call Alonzo. He didn't pick up the phone.

Damian was the kind of husband that would make sure his wife wouldn't be able to cheat on him. He always made me crave for more and that's what's going on right now.. He made me turn around with my back facing him in reverse cowgirl and began slamming deeper into my cunt.. I was a moaning mess and urge him to f*CK me harder which he did as his lips found its way to my bare back.. My legs trembled in pleasure as he thrust in and outta me.. “ Want more, Baby?” He asked and I nodded unconsciously.. “Yes! F*CK me harder!” I begged and he gave in to my demands but careful enough not to hurt me..

Damien couldn’t wait—he knelt between her legs, pressing his cock against her entrance. “First,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “I’m going to be the first inside her.” Elara gasped around Cowin, eyes wide, but Cowin stroked her hair. “Breathe. Take us. You were made for us.” Damien pushed, slowly, stretching her untouched heat. Pain and pleasure mixed, her cry muffled around Cowin. Inch by inch, Damien sank inside until he filled her completely. “Fuck, she’s so tight,” he groaned, sweat dripping down his temples.

My breath hitched as a sweet sensation made its way up from my chest down to my loins. “I'm going to be so full when I finally get a taste of that ass-” “Captain!” I screamed, drowning out the rest of his words as Caleb jogged to us. Cyrus almost laughed at me, but I just saved his ass from being tagged gay. “Who is this and why aren't you joining us?” “This is Damian. He's from the press club and he's looking to get an interview.” He took just one glance before he said, “No. We're training now. Get him off the field.”

He moved with agility, he had a cunning mind, and he could adapt to different situations. Lord Vedastus would not let Damian handle normal missions. Since Lord Vedastus had sent Damian out this time, one could see how much he cared about this mission and how difficult it would be to complete. Damian looked at Thomas. He knew this guy. Of course he knew. How could Damian possibly not know Lord Vedastus' top rival? He nodded at Thomas. “I’m Damian Coull from Art Trading Corporation. Mr. Mayo, I never thought we would meet in the Seymour family manor so coincidentally.”