Scarlet Enchantment

Chapter 14

This novel contains detailed s****l content, adult themes, and scenes of violence. It is intended for mature readers only. Reader discretion is advised.

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Damian's voice was already hoarse, his intentions clear.

Emily stood there, taking several deep breaths to calm her expression. Then she walked directly to Damian, knelt in front of him, and silently began to unbutton his trousers.

He relaxed, leaning back on the sofa, his eyes half-closed, his thick eyelashes hiding any emotion. But she didn't look up, focusing solely on unbuttoning his trousers. The buttons were small and slippery, making her fingers tremble uncontrollably as she struggled to grasp them.

Under her fingertips, his c**k was already getting hard. By the time she finally pushed aside the obstacles, it had become so impatient that it sprang out, even hitting her hand. She froze for a moment, closing her eyes in humiliation. Just as she was about to lower her head, his large hand suddenly grabbed her chin.

His grip was firm, forcing her to rise as he hoarsely commanded, "Get on top."

With shaking hands, she pulled out a condom from her coat pocket, but before she could tear it open, he snatched it from her and tossed it aside. His hands gripped her arms, lifting her onto the sofa. She bit her lip and said, "Mr. Blackwood, we should use protection. It's safer for both of us, don't you think?"

"I don't like it," he refused bluntly, stripping off her coat, leaving her in the black dress. Then he leaned back against the sofa, his hands roaming her long, pale thighs, pushing the dress up slowly, his voice hoarse as he repeated his command, "Get on top."

Her hand had no choice but to brace against his shoulder. Under his intense gaze, she slowly lowered herself, forcing his massive, scorching c**k, hard as iron, into her body. Watching his c**k disappear inch by inch into her tight, wet p***y, he felt his blood begin to boil. The sight of her struggling to take him, her body trembling, only fueled his endless desire. He took a deep breath, his hands eagerly gripping her slender waist, pressing her down until he was fully inside.

For a while, she couldn't adjust to his massive, scorching presence, her body almost rigid with tension. He, however, was uncharacteristically patient, staying still and watching her intently until her body gradually relaxed. Only then did he lightly slap her ass, signaling her to start moving again.

She didn't want to anger him or have him leave more marks on her body, so she obediently lifted herself, slowly swaying, finding a rhythm as his c**k slid in and out of her. She tried her best to intensify his pleasure. His face finally showed satisfaction, his hands gripping her waist firmly. As she moved, his breathing grew heavier, and the coldness in his eyes was gradually replaced by burning desire.

"What was the other choice he gave you?" he suddenly asked, breathlessly.

She froze for a moment, then mechanically resumed moving, deliberately speeding up to bring him to climax faster, calmly replying, "To f**k you in front of everyone."

To be f****d by all the men present, or to f**k him in front of everyone, and she chose the former because the latter was even more degrading. His hands tightened on her waist, holding her in mid-air, and he coldly asked, "You think the first choice is better, don't you?"

His breathing seemed to calm instantly, making her previous efforts futile. Feeling frustrated and finding his reaction unreasonable, she couldn't help but mockingly ask, "Mr. Blackwood, can I interpret your reaction as jealousy? If I didn't choose the first, should I have really f****d you in front of your subordinates, as Nathan wished? Would you allow that? Would you be humiliated like that? Would you even get hard?"

Her words were sharp and provocative. He suddenly realized that since entering the room, she had remained calm and rational, her emotions and body almost unaffected even as she nearly brought him to climax.

He slowly curled his lips, staring at her silently. Suddenly, he grabbed her waist and forced her down hard. His hands firmly controlled her, and his hard c**k thrust into her again and again, each powerful stroke lifting her up. Even though she was on top, he was in complete control. She couldn't keep up with his pace and quickly began to feel overwhelmed. To avoid getting hurt and fearing he might bruise her waist, she had to submit and beg, "Please, go easier, please."

A cold smile played on his lips as he stopped, following her request, but before she could catch her breath, he suddenly stood up. His hands gripped her ass tightly, lifting her up, and without pause, he continued to f**k her hard. She couldn't help but let out a gasp, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to try and keep her balance. With each step he took towards the floor-to-ceiling window, his c**k plunged deeply into her, moving in and out of her body.

Emily's body helplessly swayed in mid-air with Damian's movements. She tried to hold onto his shoulders, but he didn't care, only f*****g her harder. He carried her like that, striding over to the window, turning her around so her breasts pressed tightly against the cold glass. He then braced himself against the window and tore off her dress in one swift motion.

Positioning himself behind her, he pressed his body tightly against hers, his teeth grazing her ear as he wickedly asked, "Do you think the people downstairs can see me f*****g you?"

The mirror-like glass reflected their entwined figures with stark clarity. She was completely naked, utterly disheveled, while he remained fully clothed, the perfect image of a depraved predator. Biting down hard, she shut her eyes in humiliation. Unwilling to let her escape that easily, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head up. “Open your eyes and watch how I f**k you,” he demanded coldly, forcing her to see the obscene scene. His c**k thrusting in and out of her, each movement clearly visible in the reflection, the scene was lewd beyond measure.

She snapped her eyes open, flames of anger blazing in her pupils, reflecting in the glass like two bright firelights. She didn't close her eyes again, didn't beg, didn't plead, just stared at his reflection on the wall, memorizing every moment of humiliation and pain.

She hated this man, wishing she could skin him, eat his flesh, and drink his blood!

Through the mirror, he locked eyes with her, a nameless pleasure sweeping over him again. He couldn't control himself, speeding up until he finally stiffened with a muffled grunt, shuddering as if his soul left his body, seeing fireworks explode outside the window.

After a long while, his body slowly relaxed, releasing her from his grip. Stepping back, he looked her over. She was clearly in a disheveled state, but her expression was indifferent, devoid of emotion. This near-masochistic stubbornness brought him immense pleasure, but he couldn't help but hate her for it.

"Get your things from Kevin," he said coldly, turning towards the bathroom without another glance at her.

Suddenly, she asked, "Can I take the disc with me?"

Damian paused, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Of course," he replied, "But it's just a copy, not the original."

"No problem, it plays the same," Emily said, her legs trembling as she used the window to help herself stand. She didn't bother picking up the thin dress on the floor, instead, she walked to the sofa, picked up the coat he had stripped off her earlier, wrapped it around herself, and went barefoot to retrieve the disc.

Damian was momentarily puzzled but had no intention of delving deeper. With a mocking curl of his lips, he said, "If you like it, we can make more."

"No, thank you," she replied, carefully placing the disc in her coat pocket.

Kevin lived downstairs. When she explained her purpose, he handed her a large bag containing her phone, wallet, and, most importantly, her clothes.

Emily remained calm, even checking the contents of the bag before softly thanking him, "Thank you."

Kevin widened his eyes in disbelief, looking at her as if she were either crazy or stupid.

Emily didn't change immediately. She took out her shoes, put them on, and, still wrapped in the borrowed coat, left the building. Johnson was true to her word, waiting downstairs without a call from Emily. Seeing her approach, she quickly got out to open the car door and asked softly, "Are you alright?"

Emily didn't respond for a few seconds, then said, "I'm sorry, I got your coat dirty. I'll buy you a new one."

Johnson waved it off, hesitated, and then said, "Honestly, I can tell you're not like us. I'm just happy you didn't mind wearing my coat."

Emily forced a smile and said nothing.

Johnson noticed she had nothing under the coat and asked, "Do you want to change in the back seat?"

"No need," Emily replied. "Could you take me to a budget hotel? I need to stay the night."

Johnson agreed and drove her to a nearby hotel.

Before getting out of the car, Emily gave her phone number to Johnson and said, "I'm grateful for your help tonight. If I ever get the chance, I'll repay you. But whatever you think is between Mr. Blackwood and me, you're mistaken."

"Oh?" Caught off guard, Johnson explained, "Miss Carter, I meant no harm."

"I know, and I appreciate it," Emily said.

She took her bag, checked into the hotel, and thoroughly cleaned herself in the shower. Standing in front of the mirror, she examined herself. Except for the red marks on her neck, there were no visible signs. Feeling somewhat relieved, she pinched and rubbed the skin around her throat until it was uniformly red, completely covering the finger marks.

The next morning, she went to a pharmacy to buy emergency contraception, then drove to the school and called Ryan Collins, complaining, "Ryan, these students are driving me crazy! Why are they so difficult these days? I remember we were all so well-behaved, never causing trouble for our teachers."

Ryan laughed, trying to console her, "Don't worry. Take things one step at a time. If you can't solve it, report it to the administration and pass the problem up."

"How can I not worry?" Emily felt guilt and self-reproach but continued her lies. "My throat is killing me. Remember to buy me some medicine on your way home. Something soothing."

Ryan, feeling sorry for her, bought several boxes of throat medicine after work. When he saw the bruises on her neck, he was shocked. "How did this happen?"

She pretended to rush to the mirror and looked pleased. "A colleague said this would help reduce inflammation. I pinched it a bit, and it really worked. My throat feels much better now."

"Nonsense!" Ryan couldn't help but scold her.

"It's nothing, just looks scary," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck playfully. After a while, she suddenly said, "Oh, Ryan, don't forget to get me a new charger. The one at work broke, and my phone died yesterday. It took me forever to find someone with a charger."

She patched all the loopholes: her overnight absence was due to a student emergency, her phone was off because it was out of power, and the bruises on her neck had a plausible explanation.

Ryan didn't suspect a thing, continuing to trust and care for her, except at night. Her fervent passion confused him. Enjoying her enthusiasm, he teased her, "Honey, what's gotten into you? Trying to devour me?"

Emily froze for a moment but quickly recovered, lowering her body to whisper in his ear with a giggle, "Maybe I'm just hitting my prime. Isn't there a saying that women in their thirties are like wolves, hungry and fierce? Well, I'm about to turn into a big bad wolf and devour you, little lamb. "

Unable to resist her provocation, Ryan flipped her over, pinning her down, and whispered threateningly, "Alright, let's see who the real big bad wolf is and who the little lamb is, and who ends up devouring whom."

His hands gripped her waist tightly, spreading her legs wide open. He mercilessly thrust his c**k into her wet p***y. She let out a satisfied moan, her hands digging into his back, nails embedded in his skin. She kissed his lips fiercely, biting down hard, her hips moving passionately to match his rhythm. Her gasps and moans echoed through the room, her body trembling with heated passion.

Gentle and considerate men can be overwhelming when they go wild. She trembled in his arms, screaming and crying, begging for mercy. In the moment of climax, she lost control, clinging to him tightly, murmuring, "Ryan, take me away. Let's die together, shall we?"

"Alright," he replied.

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