One Shot Wonders Part 2

Forbidden Mate: Passion in the shadows pt 5

Elena slipped out of the lecture hall, her notebook clutched tightly to her chest, the weight of the day's classes lingering in her mind like a fog that refused to lift. But it wasn't the economics midterm that had her heart racing—it was the lingering scent of Damian's cologne on her skin from their secret meeting the night before, a reminder of the forbidden fire they'd stoked in the shadows of his room. As she weaved through the crowded campus pathways, whispers followed her, sharp and insidious, from a group of girls who had once vied for Damian's attention. Their leader, a tall brunette named Lila, shot daggers with her eyes, her jealousy palpable in the way she leaned in to murmur to her friends, "Did you see how he looked at her yesterday? Like she's something special. But we all know what he is—everyone's plaything until he gets bored."

The confrontation came swiftly, as Elena rounded the corner toward the student union, her footsteps faltering when Lila blocked her path, flanked by two others. "Hey, new girl," Lila sneered, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness that couldn't mask the venom beneath. "You're Victor's stepdaughter, right? Living in that big house with Damian. Funny how you're suddenly everywhere he is. Think you're special because you're family? Or is there something more you're not telling us?" Elena's pulse quickened, a flush creeping up her neck as she met Lila's gaze, her mind racing with the implications. She wanted to deny it, to laugh it off as ridiculous gossip, but the truth twisted in her gut, a secret flame that threatened to consume her. "It's not like that," Elena managed, her voice steadier than she felt, though her hands trembled slightly at her sides. The air around them grew thick with tension, Lila's friends closing in, their whispers turning to outright accusations, pushing Elena back against the wall of the building.

Desperate to escape, Elena pushed past them, her heart pounding as she fled toward the parking lot, the jeers echoing in her ears. By the time she reached Damian's car—where he'd promised to pick her up—tears stung her eyes, a mix of anger and fear bubbling up inside her. He was already there, leaning against the hood, his muscular frame casting a long shadow in the late afternoon sun, his dark eyes locking onto hers with that possessive intensity that always made her knees weak. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice a low growl as he pulled her into his arms, his hands roaming possessively over her back, tracing the curve of her spine through her thin sweater. The confrontation had ignited something primal in her, a need to reclaim the control she'd lost, and she pressed closer, her body molding to his as if seeking shelter in the storm. Damian's breath hitched, his fingers threading through her hair, tilting her head back so he could capture her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle—rough, demanding, his tongue delving deep to taste her, to claim her right there in the fading light.

As they broke apart, gasping for air, Damian's eyes darkened with a hunger that mirrored her own, and he guided her into the backseat of the car, the leather seats cool against her skin as she settled onto his lap. The confined space amplified every sensation, the scent of his arousal mingling with the faint leather and her own mounting desire, making the air feel heavy and electric. He started slowly, his hands sliding under her skirt, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with deliberate, teasing strokes that sent shivers racing up her spine. Elena arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as his thumb grazed the edge of her underwear, the fabric already damp with her need. "Tell me what you want," he murmured against her ear, his voice a husky whisper that vibrated through her, each word laced with the promise of more. She hesitated for a moment, her body trembling under his expert caresses, the memory of Lila's accusations fueling the urgency, making her crave the raw connection that only he could provide.

Damian's fingers delved deeper, slipping beneath the lace barrier to explore her folds, the heat of her arousal coating his skin as he traced slow, deliberate circles around her most sensitive spot. Elena gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily against his hand, the pressure building with agonizing precision, each movement heightening the exquisite tension coiling in her core. He watched her face intently, his own breath coming in ragged bursts, savoring the way her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting in silent pleas. The car seemed to shrink around them, the world outside fading into oblivion as he increased the pace just a fraction, his thumb pressing firmly against her c**t while his other fingers slid lower, teasing her entrance with shallow, tantalizing dips that left her aching for more. "You're mine," he growled, his free hand cupping her breast through her blouse, thumbing the hardened n****e until it peaked under the fabric, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. The sensation was overwhelming, a cascade of pleasure that radiated from his touch, making her skin flush and her body arch in desperate response, every nerve ending alive with the forbidden thrill of their encounter.

Yet he didn't rush, not even as her whimpers grew louder, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. Instead, Damian maintained that slow, methodical rhythm, drawing out each stroke as if he had all the time in the world, his fingers curling inside her now, exploring her depths with an expertise that made her head spin. The wet sounds of his movements filled the air, mingling with their shared breaths, and Elena felt the first waves of her climax approaching, a building storm that threatened to shatter her completely. But he held back, easing his touch just enough to keep her on the edge, his lips brushing against her neck in feather-light kisses that contrasted with the intensity of his hand between her legs. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice rough with restraint, as if he were savoring the power he held over her, pushing her to the very limits of her desires in this heated, explicit dance that blurred the lines between pleasure and pain. Around them, the campus buzzed with life, oblivious to the passion unfolding in the shadowed interior of the car, but for Elena, there was only Damian—his touch, his scent, his unyielding presence that made her forget everything else.