Elena And Damon Wedding Novels & Stories

“This cunt was made for me. My forbidden blood. My wife.” He fucked me harder then. His hips snapped as his cock slammed deep. The wet sounds of our bodies filled the villa. I came, screaming, my walls pulsing around his thick shaft. He followed with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and pumping me full of hot, thick cum. We stayed locked together, breathing each other in. ═══❖═══ Damien POV – Six Months Later Elena walked along the beach at sunset, five months pregnant. Her belly was rounded with my child, the evidence of our sin growing inside her. She was fucking radiant.

Bound her wrists when she fought too hard. Time blurred. Her days were measured in pills and echoes. Her nights filled with nightmares of Damien's blank stare and Selene's pitiful smile. Then the wedding photos came. Smuggled in through a tabloid a kind orderly left behind. Damien and Selene on a yacht in Santorini. Her red dress was repurposed for Selene's rehearsal dinner. The engagement ring Elara once wore now glittering on her sister's delicate hand. It broke something inside her.

Even though part of him felt wrong for not having corrected him. Dorian announced. “I see Mr. West has finally made an appearance. And my, my, it appears the the man has managed to secure himself an actual date.” The moment Barrett turned his head, he felt his entire world shift off of its axis. Standing across the room was the infamous Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack, Killian West. But standing close beside him, wearing a stunning forest green gown, was none other than Elena. Elena I honestly had no idea why I was even here. I always despised these sorts of public gatherings. They were hardly ever about the real purpose at hand and more so about gossip and ogling.

“I’ve wanted you for years. That part’s true. But I never planned for it to happen like this. Not on his wedding night.” Elena sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around her chest. Her wedding lingerie was somewhere on the floor, ruined. “What now? He’s going to keep looking for me. And in the morning… the whole wedding party will know something’s wrong.” Damon propped himself on one elbow. His hair was messy, lips still swollen from kissing her. He looked good like this. Real and unguarded. “You have options. We can sneak you back to the suite like nothing happened. Or you can stay here tonight and deal with the fallout tomorrow. Or…”

No possession games, just mutual love and pleasure. The week continued with more tender and playful moments, solidifying their bond. Three months later, they held an intimate but lavish wedding. Elara’s mother, now in remission, walked her down the aisle. Vows were heartfelt, no longer bound by paper but by genuine love. The honeymoon suite overflowed with roses. Damien carried her over the threshold, stripping her gown slowly. Their final night of passion blended everything they had become—possessive thrusts, tender caresses, multiple varied positions, and declarations of love with every shared climax until dawn.

Don’t make me wait. Elena’s heart slammed in her chest the whole ride up in the private elevator. She knew what this was. The doors opened straight into his sprawling main penthouse. Damon stood by the glass, tie loosened, top buttons open. “Close the door, Elena,” he said, voice low and dangerous. She did. Her skirt hugged her ass, her blouse stretched tight over her hard nipples. Damon turned slowly. His dark eyes locked on hers. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done to me?”

If not for the miscarriage report I had hidden away, if not for the child no one had ever known about, I might have believed him. Damon's phone rang soon after. He went out to the balcony to answer it. When the glass door closed, only Selene and I remained in the room. She set down her teacup, and the softness on her face vanished. "You're still not leaving?" I looked at her. She laughed. "Honestly, I've never seen anyone put up with as much as you." "Seven times." "All I had to do was say one word, and Damon turned a wedding into a divorce ceremony."

I just saw the boy I had loved three years ago. “Why did you really do it, Damian?” I asked softly, the question slipping out before I could stop it. “Why did you really marry me? You could have picked anyone. You could have picked Victoria.” Damian’s hand tightened on my waist. He pulled me closer, until there was no space left between us. His face was inches from mine. “Because, Elara,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. “Victoria never broke my heart. And I need to make sure yours breaks exactly the same way.”