Dangerously His

CHAPTER2:The Moment Flesh Meet Blood

Gunfire ripped through the ballroom like thunder. Damian spun Nyra behind him, his broad back a wall of muscle and heat, c**k still rock-hard and grinding against her ass in one filthy, possessive roll even as glass exploded overhead.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, voice low and rough like every night he used to wreck her. He drew his pistol and dropped two armed men with two clean shots.

Nyra’s p***y clenched hard, a hot rush of slick flooding her thighs. Her c**t pulsed shamelessly. “You think I need your protection when your c**k is already trying to f**k me through my dress?” she hissed, raising her own gun.

He fired again, then shoved her sideways behind an overturned table. He landed on top, massive erection dragging right over her swollen c**t through their clothes. “That greedy little hole is creaming so hard I can smell it,” he growled against her ear. “Still the same c**k-hungry brat who used to beg me to ruin her every night.”

Her n*****s tightened painfully. Fresh arousal soaked her lace as she rocked up into him. “You’re hard as steel with bullets flying, old man. This is why I ran ,because you always make me want to spread my legs instead of fighting for my life.”

He thrust his hips once, letting the thick ridge of his c**k grind harder against her dripping folds. “You ran because you were terrified of how deep I stretch that tight twenty-eight-year-old cunt. Terrified of how you milk me dry when I fill you up and make you mine again.” His hand shoved her dress higher, fingers slipping under her soaked panties to stroke her slick heat directly. “But you’re back now, delivered straight into my hands, and I’m not stopping until I’ve f****d every last drop of defiance out of this perfect little pussy.”

A fresh wave of Lucien Voss’s men charged. His voice crackled over hidden speakers, cold and mocking. “Hand her over, Damian. She was never yours to keep.”

Damian rose just enough to fire three rapid shots, dropping two attackers, then dropped back down and drove two thick fingers straight into her fluttering entrance. He curled them hard against her G-spot while his thumb worked her swollen c**t in tight, ruthless circles. Nyra’s thighs shook. Creamy slick poured down his wrist as her walls clenched greedily around him.

More gunfire erupted. A bullet tore into the table inches from his head. He cursed, rolled them both up, and pulled her into a sprint down the side corridor, arm locked around her waist so his hip kept brushing her soaked core with every step.

They burst into the hallway. He kicked a door shut and barricaded it. Then he slammed Nyra against the wall, crowding her with his taller frame. His freed c**k thick, veined, and burning ground insistently against her bare, dripping folds. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he demanded, rolling his hips so the heavy length dragged over her c**t. “Tell me this soaked little cunt isn’t aching for the man who taught it how to take every brutal inch.”

Nyra’s head fell back. A broken moan tore from her throat as pleasure spiked through her. “I want your c**k buried so deep I feel it for days,” she admitted, voice husky and wrecked, “but I want answers too. Why the trap? Why deliver me like a gift to the one man I can’t resist?”

He leaned in, teeth scraping her neck, fingers still pumping slowly inside her. “Because you never stopped belonging to me. Tonight I’m taking back every orgasm you stole when you ran.”

The barricaded door rattled under heavy blows. Lucien’s voice returned, colder. “Time’s up. Hand her over or watch her bleed.”

Damian shoved a third finger in, stretching her wider, thumb never leaving her c**t. “She decides who she belongs to,” he snarled. “But right now this dripping, fluttering hole is mine.”

Nyra shoved at his chest even as she rode his fingers shamelessly. “Then stop teasing and f**k me, or let them take me before you get the chance to split me open.”

The door splintered.

Armed men poured in, weapons raised.

Damian shoved Nyra behind him, still finger-f*****g her with one hand while he emptied his clip with the other. Bullets flew both ways. One grazed his arm, drawing blood. Nyra raised her gun and dropped one attacker cleanly, her p***y still clenching and leaking around his thrusting fingers, body burning with raw need.

In the brief lull he spun her back against the wall, c**k freed and grinding against her soaked heat again. Blood trickled down his arm as he looked at her, eyes blazing with lust, rage, and something darker, obsession that had never faded. “This isn’t over,” he growled. “When I get you somewhere safe, I’m ripping this dress off and pounding that tight cunt until you’re screaming my name and creaming all over my cock.”

Another wave of gunfire erupted from deeper in the corridor. Lucien’s men closed in from both ends.

Damian’s grip tightened. His rock-hard c**k throbbed hot and heavy against her pulsing p***y as boots thundered closer.

Nyra met his gaze, heart hammering, cunt aching to be claimed.

Then the lights died completely, plunging them into blackness.

In the sudden dark, Damian’s voice came low and filthy against her ear. “Now you’re really mine to fuck.”

A single gunshot rang out inches away.