N I N E

~ DAMIEN ~

I have always thrived on control.

Seeing people at my mercy, knowing that I have the power to mould them or break them, that I have the pen and eraser to seal their fate. Most call me monster, some devil, some even call me bastard. Well, I'm all.

You may be thinking that my experience made me like this. Maybe I'd gone through some shitty moments in life, perhaps from an abusive father or an abusive mother. Newsflash? No, I didn't have any of that. My ruthlessness didn't stem from my childhood, and I wasn't like a diamond that was forged under pressure. Instead, I've always been like this.

Thriving on control, brutality, beauty in blood, love for the sound of gunshot, wanting to watch the world burn. Everything. I was born this way. It was like that placenta that followed me to the world but was cooked for me to eat instead of being buried with the demons of the world. It was like my flesh that expanded as I continue to grow and now, it continues to impact those around me.

My gaze lingers on her naked form, watching her thighs shake as her chest heaves. I do feel strong. But today. Just today. I've felt stronger than I've ever felt in my entire twenty three years of existence.

I can still hear the echoes of Anastasia's moans loud and clear in my ears. She was at my mercy, completely. I have her under my leash, to do as I please. And when she called my name loudly while spasming in pleasure, my dick throbbed painfully.

I give my lip a final lick, taking with it her delicious taste. And due to me wanting to act like a gentleman - which I'm not - on my wedding day, I will be sleeping with a blue ball and painful dick tonight.

A groan tears through my throat as I dip my finger into her core. She surrounds me snugly as a moan slips past her unconscious form. Then, I slip it out and suck on it before standing up, her thighs still open lewdly for me to get a view of her glistening pink cunt.

She's beautiful. My wife is beautiful.

I move away from the bed, my hand on my dick as I slowly work on the tip. Then, with a sigh, I turn away from her naked body and walk towards the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and lean on it as I slowly work on my dick, my mind filled with the sounds of her moan and how she squirmed while I fuck her with my fingers.

My movements become faster and jerky as I squeeze my cock and move my hand hurriedly around the tip while my other hand squeezes my ball.

The imaginary image of her slowly lowering herself on my dick until I'm reaching deep inside of her clouds my mind. Then, I'm coming with a loud groan. Coming harder than I've ever had with any blow job.

Shit.

I watch as my cum shoots straight out of my dick, painting the floor and I glance painfully at my dick which refuses to come down even after my jerking off session. Clicking my tongue, I walk towards the washing basin and pull out a towel tissue.

After unsealing it, I open the faucet, letting the warm water beat down on it until it's puffed up. Then, I peel it open and use it to wipe my hands, my cock, my thighs, and dispose of it.

I step out of the bathroom after cleaning the floor, my gaze landing on her. She'd changed position and she now has her fleshy perky butt which is lined with beautiful stretch marks turned to my direction.

I've never been one to think of stretch marks as beautiful but hers is.

With a frustrated groan, I pull on my hair and turn to the closet. After putting on a tank top and sweatpants, I step out of the closet.

Squinting my eyes so I won't get a harder boner, I walk closer to the bed and hurriedly cover her body with the duvet. Then, I step out of the room in a hurry, only letting out a breath of relief after shutting the door behind me.

She already hates me. I know. She knows. And fucking her while she's asleep will definitely make her loathe me more. I can't afford that even though she's mine now. It's till death do us apart, remember?

I fucked up, not once, but twice. And I'm determined not to again. I move to the couch before hopping on it. Then, I grab my phone which I always place on the center table. Suddenly, my eyes catch sight of a white net on the couch opposite mine and I sigh.

The veil.

Fuck Anastasia.

It looks like my warning had little to no effect on her since she's determined to make this place as messy as her old place. I walk towards the couch and pick the veil, turning to the room before halting on my step.

Then, I throw the veil back on the couch before sitting down and shifting my attention to my phone. I scroll to the notification bar, watching as each notification pops up and I tap on Vittorio's name.

“Call me when you see this message.” He'd typed, and after some minutes, he added, “please.”

I click my tongue in annoyance as I exit the tab but, my phone suddenly rings as if he was waiting for the chat to be marked read. I groan, picking it up and bringing it to my ears.

“You should at least try to drop some orders for us to follow instead of just focusing on getting your dick wet.” He grumbles, and I can imagine him clenching his jaw in annoyance.

“I'm on my honeymoon you bitch.”

“Dimitra said the honeymoon starts tomorrow.”

I hiss, already feeling an incoming headache. There's no point in arguing with Vittorio. The little piece of shit thinks with his muscles instead of his brain and he's studying law. So, I cut the chase.

“Why did you call?”

“Did Enzo inform you of the shipment sinking?”

I can feel blood rushing to my head as anger clouds my senses making me forget about the lust and annoyance for some minutes. I inhale deeply, trying to clear my head.

“He didn't. Did he try to take care of anything? Like those in charge?”

“And that was why I'm angry. The fucker didn't. He just kept them locked in the basement and I've grown tired of telling him that hunger won't work as a punishment. He should cut me some slacks, I need to release fucking steam.” He added the last part with a groan.

“By beating them up?”

“I didn't say that.”

I smirk. “Go ahead, but don't kill them. Some broken bones will—”

“ —Thanks man. Enjoy your honeymoon.” He says, interrupting me. Then, the line goes dead. I shake my head at Vittorio's antics before dropping my phone back on the sofa.

I stand up and make my way to the room. I slowly push the door open and slip inside, grateful that I'd covered her body with the sheets.

Anastasia tosses in her sleep, and I walk towards the dressing mirror to draw the stool closer to the bed. She will be awake any moment from now I guess.

I sit on the stool by the side of the bed as I wait for her eyelids to flutter open and after some minutes that felt like hours, they did.