Scarred Seductress

The Wildest Night

Samantha started at her reflection for the umpteenth time, tugging at her lower lip as her heart thundered against her ribs. It was finally time to give herself to Damien, something she had waited all her life to do.

“My love…” Damien called, giving a slight knock on the bathroom door.

Samantha cleared her throat, her shaking hands tying the little robe of her nightwear closed. She had waited her entire life for this but she was still anxious. Damien would have to lose it himself when the time came.

She ran her fingers through her long hair, tucking both sides behind her ears and forcing a smile.

“Is everything okay?” Damien asked.

“Yes, my love,” she responded, finally reaching out to open the door, and coming face to a face with a concerned Damien.

“You got me worried,” he whispered, pulling her toward him by the wrist, and curling his arm around her waist.

“I'm sorry…”

“Don't apologise. I just need you to understand that we're married now—there's absolutely no need for privacy anymore,” he teased. Samantha tucked her face away, redness spreading across her cheeks and quickly down her neck.

“You know I've waited my whole life for this, Samantha—to finally feel you.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as though to kiss her. Samantha shut her eyes, expecting the kiss, but he pulled away—slowly, breathlessly—his lips drifting toward her ear.

“I've kissed your lips more times than I can remember, Samantha. Permit me to kiss you somewhere else—a place I've been dying my whole life to feel,” he whispered into her ear, her eyes snapping wide as she made sense of what he had said.

“Please, Samantha…”

“Yes, yes… Damien, you're my husband now. You own me.” Her shaky voice replied, interrupting him.

A smirk curved his lips and before Samantha could process anything, he swung her off the ground, carrying her to the bed and placing her down—gently.

Samantha shut her eyes as Damien loosened her nightgown, parting her legs while keeping his eyes on her face as he settled between them.

“Are you scared?” He asked and trailed his fingers to the robes of her panty, peeling it down and tossing it aside, revealing her neatly shaved c*nt. Samantha shook her head sharply, her heart slamming hard against her ribs as Damien trailed an electrifying kiss down there.

“Just trust me, my love,” he assured her, his eyes lingering on the beauty before him, drinking her in and refusing to look away for a second.

“I trust you,” Samantha whimpered, tugging at her lip, her shaking hands clawing at the sides of the bed in uncertain anticipation of whatever Damien had planned. Her strict father and step mother had barely let her leave the house; for reasons best known to them, she was never allowed to mingle with friends, let alone date. Damien had seen her on one of the rare days she had sneaked out of the mansion, and being a Moretti, he always had his ways of making her father comply. The only reason her father had allowed him to marry her—he was a Moretti.

“I love you, Samantha,” Damien said, his eyes meeting her flushed face one more time as he spread her legs even wider, just about to trail his tongue down there, when a phone call blared across the room.

“My love…” Samantha breathed, exhaling nervously at the interruption. She wanted Damien too. She could feel the heat stirring through her, but she was too nervous, too anxious to finally feel a man—a real man.

“It's not important.” Damien tried to dismiss it. Samantha shook her head—breathless, reaching for the phone on the table beside the bed, her eyes landing on Marina's number. She arched a brow. Why was she calling her husband and not her? She took the call regardless.

“Hello, hello… is this Damien, is this Damien Moretti?” An unfamiliar voice asked, trembling.

Samantha's heart sank. She peeled away from Damien, clenching her legs shut as she hummed out a response, scared that something might have happened to Marina.

“There's been an accident, there's been an accident, Damien… and the owner of this phone is barely responding.”

The phone fell from Samantha's hand as a painful kick struck her stomach at the sound of that.

“My love…” Damien arched a brow, straightening instantly as Samantha sat up, shaking.

“Is everything okay…”

“Marina, Marina,” Samantha bawled, already breaking down.

“What happened to Marina, is everything okay?” He asked, rushing anxiously, searching her tear-filled face for any hint of an answer.

“Marina was… Marina was in an accident,” she said, pouting sadly. Damien picked up his phone and hopped off the bed, stepping to the side as he dialed her number.

Samantha buried her face in her hands, crying and praying desperately that nothing had happened to her sister.

“Just stay here, my love… and please stay calm. I need to head there immediately.” Damien turned, dashing to his closet and picking up a pair of trousers and a shirt.

“I'm coming with you…”

“No, you're too shaken. Just try to stay calm, she'll be alright I promise.”

Damien dressed in a jiffy and moved to her, planting a kiss on her cheek before dashing out of the room.

“Oh Marina, please be okay,” she cried, pushing herself off the bed. She moved to the window, watching as Damien's car disappeared through the gates into the night. Sniffling, she wiped her tears, about to turn away when her eyes caught an entourage of black cars making their way through the open gates and into the mansion. Her heart sank—it could only be one person: Matteo Moretti, Damien's father.

Her legs carried her back as a chill of dread ran down her spine. Everything she had heard about him made her pray she would never meet him—everyone swore he was the devil himself. What was he doing home tonight? Damien had said he would never show up, so there was nothing to worry about.

She dashed to the door, just about to slam it shut, when a hand stopped her from behind, causing her to step back, trembling.

“Ma'am…” a maid stepped in.

Samantha forced a shaky breath.

“Your presence is needed downstairs… your father-in-law is here,” she said, bowing and pushing the door open for Samantha to step out.

“Ugh… I…ugh…”

“He hates to wait.”

Samantha forced out a nod, her trembling fingers fumbling with the hem of her short nightwear as she stepped forward.

“This way, ma'am.” She led the way.

Samantha followed closely, her head bowed, her legs moving in hesitant steps behind the maid while the rest of her stood frozen. Unsure of how to process the situation, she was about to meet Matteo Moretti—alone.

“Be nice, ma'am…” the maid whispered, leading her to the last step into Matteo's office and stepping aside as Samantha entered, refusing to look up.

“She's here, sir,” one of his men announced, stepping out of the room as Matteo entered from the balcony. Every movement exuded authority—his presence alone a quiet command, and even the air seemed to tense in his wake. His eyes settled on the trembling Samantha, his brow lifting as he slowly took her in, clearly taken aback by the beauty before him.

“Wel…come home, sir…father…” Samantha shuttered, summoning the courage to lift her gaze. Her eyes met the man before her—strikingly similar to Damien, and much younger than she had expected too. She had imagined an old man, barely able to stand straight, but this one looked like he could pass for Damien's brother—only more intimidating and cold, with tattoos sprawling across his neck and arms, his shirt barely concealing them.

“You’re Samantha… Damien's wife,” he growled, his eyes never leaving her as he sank into his seat. He reached for a cigarette from the gold cup on his desk and lit it, his gaze still tracing every inch of her.

Samantha swallowed hard. Why was he looking at her like that? He was just… checking her out right? As his son's wife. Right? No dirty intentions—nothing like every other man who had ever set eyes on her.

“Where's Damien?” He asked, exhaling a steady stream of smoke from his cigarette, the haze curling toward her, almost choking Samantha as she tried to speak.

He laughed.

“Damien doesn't smoke?” he joked, shaking his head and finally peeling his eyes from her, the small smile on his lips fading quickly.

“Tell him to see me first thing when he's back. You may leave for now,” His voice grumbled, his hand guiding Samantha aside as he struggled not to look at her again. She nodded and retreated quickly, nearly colliding with one of his men, who promptly entered the office.

“We leave immediately,” Matteo ordered.

A wave of relief washed over Samantha upon hearing that—thank goodness he was leaving. She had feared he might do something bad to her, just as her sister had warned.

“Ma'am, have this… you're shaking.” The maid who had led her here approached, offering a glass of juice as Samantha struggled to catch her breath.

She nodded quickly, snatching the juice from her hands and gulping it down in one go.

“Your husband should be back in a few minutes… you should be in your room, waiting for him,” she added, leading the way as Samantha followed wordlessly, a strange sensation stirring inside her as the juice settled.

“Ma'am…” the maid said, pushing the door open, her eyes on a suddenly restless Samantha as she tugged anxiously on her nails.

“I… I don't feel…” Samantha slurred, her legs jelly-weak as she reached out to hold the door for support.

“Are you okay, ma'am?”

Samantha's eyes squeezed shut, and before the maid could react, her body had already collapsed to the ground.