His Ellie.

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Chapter 18

Damien closed his eyes and felt the soft weight in his palms, and for a moment, even as he felt heard her moan and her desire was almost palpable, he was afraid she would be someone else in his mind. He feared that she would be his Amara, and that fear in itself was a source to a deep rooted regret. His Amara was the only one with whom he had shared an intimacy that truly mattered to him. And he felt the same connection with Elle, he could not pretend for her to be someone else for it would be an insult, and for some unknown reason Elle mattered too much for him to replace her with his Amara.
Was he leaving his beloved behind? In the very moment, Amara was not only his mind, only a fear that he was indeed truly stepping out of the mourning. He feared that when he opened his eyes, and saw Elle, even that fear of abandoning Amara would flee his conscience. He would, for at least a small period of time, belong to Elle.
When he felt her legs coming up to straddle him, his eyes opened with another groan to look at her enraptured face. She was an erotic vision, her head slightly tilted back, her eyebrows coming together in an frown as an intense need for a release built up within her. Her chest was moving as she took in rash breaths, the torn neckline giving an enticing view of her cleavage and her breasts that he was still palming. Her fingers clutched his shirt at his pecs, her nails scraping his skin beneath. Her hair was as always all over the place in elegant curls that flowed down like a mane.
His eyes tracked their way up to her mouth, the tips of her fangs reminded him of a few moments back when they were deep in his throat, sending a wave of pleasure through him. He wanted them back in him, sunk in his skin as took in deep drags. She looked down at him and he stared back into those never ending wells of luminescent green that glowed so light they looked similar to citrines but not quite there yet.
Those eyes took his breath away, how could one possess such celestial beauty? She should be caged in a high tower, away from berating eyes which are earthly undeserving.
"please" she whispered, her pouty lips moving in a tempting way, demanding him to capture them. Even when she was begging for him to do something, anything to pleasure her, she seemed above him, as if he needed to see her through her need. And it was undeniable that he was compelled to give her anything she asked for in that voice, his senses were drowning in her beauty, his body pleasured by just having her with him.
She owned him as much as he would when he stripped her down and took her like a savage.
And like a crack on his china, he was reminded of when that merchant had pecked her lips, taken a whiff of the forbidden fruit that belonged to Damien. He growled as he recalled the moment and moved in to capture her lips, to devour the delectable sweet that no one but he would taste, she was his Elle, at least for the time being till he was doing the thinking by his dick.
Her lips moved in sync with him, the relieved moan left those lips that he was kissing, his tongue coming out to lick those thick lips of her. Her hips moved on him along with the rhythm of their joined lips and groaned before his tongue plunged into her mouth, seeking hers.
Her moans didn't stop and neither did her hips and he kept kissing her, his hands hands vanishing in her hair to hold her in place as he wanted her to be. And she complied when he tilted her head to explore her mouth more thoroughly. He removed every trace of that man's peck from her lips, consuming her in a passionate way rather than having a passing and desperate peck, owning her rather than being at her mercy.
He pushed his hips up to her, giving her a hump to move on. As he parted from her to take a breath, his eyes refused to move from her face, and her nearly exposed bust had nothing over her delicately carved face even to a greedy man like Damien.
She opened her eyes and looked at him with a plea, moaning out a whine as she arched her back.
He would never let a man see her like that, this feast was only for his hungry eyes, and as he looked down into those ethereal greens, he realized that she was still dazed and dizzy.
"You're mine. Do you understand?" he asked her, even when a voice in the back of his mind kept informing and nagging that he did not want her. That he did not want to be her grounding point or for her to belong to him. That he did not want to give her a place that his Amara had once owned and ruled.
But that voice was but a whisper and his heart was raging and commanding him to claim her, that he wanted her only for himself and for no man to ever look at her like she was an open conquest. He knew not why he felt so intensely for her, knew not why she mattered at all. But he knew that his soul required her, that at his very core, she had made a place for herself the way she had walked into his cabin and looked at him in that judgemental way. He knew she had imprinted herself on his soul which now wanted her at any cost.
Even at the cost of regret and guilt of looking past the wraith of his Amara that he profoundly still loved, the guilt that might never allow him to sleep again.
"Elle, I asked you something! You belong to me, say it." he asked again in a more firm tone.
She looked like she might be having a headache, her eyes had teared up a little and her nails were digging into him.........and through that she whispered "I belong to you."
The words themselves were a symphony as they fell on his ears, and he growled his satisfaction before kissing her lips again with a tenderness that surprised even himself. He moved his lips gently, caressing instead of consuming, cupping her cheeks softly while his thumbs moved below her eyes.
"that you do. you belong to me alone, nobody to ever touch you but for me. Nobody else to see you so careless and ravening." he kissed her cheek and his lips lingered there for a while before he said in a husky voice "Only me"
His hands went around her waist again as he sat up straighter and held her to his chest, her hips still gyrating on him as he denied her what they both wanted. He would not fuk her when she probably wouldn't remember a thing about the incident when she woke up. He wanted her to remember each thrust and caress as he pounded in her and then later on to blush as she recalled the way he serviced her.
Even though he ached and pained in a very compromised place, he simply held her to him and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her sweet smell as her moans vibrated on his chest.
Amara was not welcomed here, as much as he hated it, Elle had all of him for herself in the moment, even when his conscience and the loyal husband in him struggled and fought with his lust consumed heart.
He held her for some time, before he realized that she was shivering, her body getting cold as she stilled and held on to him only for his warmth.
Something was wrong with her. She was getting colder by the second in his arms and her shivering intensified. Her nails again dug in his back, he looked down and saw her ear pressed to where his heart was beating in it's cage. And as he eased back a little, she turned up to look at him.
"C-c-cold" She whispered with pleading eyes that watered at an alarming rate, making him anxious.
"What's happening to you, my darling?" He whispered, his hands rubbing her back and side.
"To--too dark bl-blood" she stuttered. "Can-n't handle."
His jaw clenched at he words. Not knowing about how she functioned was a curse for the time being and the time yet to come. He did not know what to do, or how to help her..........he was miserable and incapable to relieve her.
Damien cursed and drew her closer.
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