Scarlet Enchantment

Chapter 18

"I’m leaving!" She was so angry that Damian could almost hear her grinding her teeth over the phone. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, replying, "Alright, I'll wait for you."

She came out quickly, and as soon as she exited the neighborhood gate, she saw the conspicuous black car parked on the side of the street. It was a winter night, and the street was deserted. She looked around cautiously before jogging over and pulling open the back door, glaring at him. "What exactly do you want?"

He tilted his head slightly and said coolly, "Get in the car."

She clenched her teeth and bent down to get into the car, just lifting one leg when Damian Blackwood suddenly leaned over, grabbed her arm, and yanked her into the car, onto his lap. His hand gripped the back of her head, tilting it up as he kissed her, his tongue urgently prying her lips apart, invading her mouth. She was startled and began to struggle, leaning back to escape him. "Damian, what the hell has gotten into you?" she exclaimed angrily.

"Having s*x," he corrected, his hands starting to undress her forcefully.

It was her birthday, so she dressed particularly strikingly. She wore a bright rose-red cashmere coat over a long cream-colored sweater. Underneath that was a pink bra that highlighted her smooth, white skin. Her full breasts were tightly encased in the bra, her n*****s prominently visible, creating an enticing sight.

With the influence of alcohol, he didn't hesitate to lower his head and take one of her n*****s into his mouth. He teased it with his tongue, circling slowly, then gently nipped it with his teeth.

She was both shocked and furious but couldn't break free. She glanced at the half-open car door, panic rising as she pushed against him and pleaded, "Close the door, not here!"

Only then did he pause his assault, his eyes locked on her face. He raised his hand to press the automatic button, closing the door, then pressed the intercom button on the dashboard, instructing Kevin to drive. The car started moving smoothly, the double-glazed windows isolating them in a quiet world. His voice was low and hoarse, "Take off your clothes. It's better than me tearing them, don't you think?"

Her face was pale, but her eyes were dark and full of anger and hatred. She stared at him as she began to undress, removing her coat and disheveled sweater. As she reached behind to unhook her bra, he caught her hand and leaned in, his breath warm against her neck, "Let me."

His hands moved around to her back, slowly unfastening her bra clasp. One hand slid down to her full breast, squeezing it firmly and teasing her n****e. The other hand traced down her smooth back, gliding over her slender waist, then across her stomach, slipping into her panties. His fingers gently played with her c**t before plunging inside her, moving slowly, thrusting in and out.

He stared into her eyes, those dark eyes filled with raw desire and aggression, like a predator eyeing its prey. Every movement carried a powerful sense of dominance.

Her patience was wearing thin. She gritted her teeth, "Isn't this what you want? Just get it over with!" She tried to stand and remove her leggings, but the limited space made her stumble. He caught her, his arm wrapping around her waist to finish what she had started, then pulled her smooth, bare body against his.

The situation was humiliating, her body trembling with a mix of anger and fear, eyes filled with tears. "Damian, just kill me. Consider it an act of mercy."

"No," his voice was a cold, harsh whisper.

The sound of a belt buckle was followed by the sudden invasion of her body. The pain made her gasp, and she gritted her teeth, "Damian Blackwood, if you don't kill me, I swear one day you will regret this."

"Is that so? I'll be waiting to see how you make me regret," he laughed darkly, increasing his pace, fulfilling his long-held desire to take her in the car, something he had fantasized about for days.

She endured silently, only making small sounds when she couldn't hold back the pain. Even then, she swallowed the cries. Her stubbornness both infuriated and captivated him, making him want to break her more. He finally reclined the seat, pinning her beneath him, his breath hot against her face, "Scream for me, I want to hear you scream."

This session lasted longer than usual. The pain kept her lucid, and she realized that resisting him only made things worse. So she began to moan softly, timing her sounds with his movements. When he sped up, she cried out, tensing her body, hoping to hasten his release.

But he suddenly stopped, looking down at her with a mocking smile, "Emily, do you think I can't tell when you're faking?" His fingers traced her face, his voice cold, "Even a prostitute can act better than you."

He was right. She was pretending, and the small amount of wetness was merely her body's natural response. She felt too numb to even hate him properly. "What do you want from me? What more do you want?"

He wanted to conquer her completely! He craved her raw emotions, to see her lose control and cry out in ecstasy in his arms. He wanted her face flushed with pleasure, her body trembling, and her breath coming in gasps as they reached the peak of their passion together. His desires were endless, but in the end, he only sneered mockingly. Leaning down to her ear, he said roughly, "I want you to beg me to f**k you like a slut.""Fine, I’m begging you," she repeated numbly.

He wasn’t satisfied, pressing further, "Beg me for what?"

"Beg you to f**k me ," she said again.

But he still didn’t relent, coldly asking, "Are you a dead fish, Emily? Is this how you have s*x with your husband too?"

Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, as if her bones were about to shatter. But she gritted her teeth, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled herself close to him, and said in a trembling voice, "Damian Blackwood, I'm begging you. Please f**k me."

"Fine, I'll f**k you," he replied, enunciating each word.

But he couldn’t give her pleasure; all he gave was humiliation and pain. Her p***y grew increasingly dry, barely able to provide even the minimal self-lubrication. Any slight movement from him caused her intense pain. He soon noticed her change, feeling even more frustrated and humiliated. "No problem, I have all night. Don’t worry about my stamina."

He leaned down and kissed her.

She didn't resist like last time, letting go of her clenched teeth and allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. She tried to relax her body, closing her eyes and convincing herself that this man wasn't the bastard she hated. He was Ryan Collins, her husband. She loved him, she enjoyed making love to him.

He was surprised by her change, his actions unconsciously becoming gentler, transforming from rough intrusion to deliberate teasing.

His hands glided softly over her neck and collarbone, skillfully kneading and teasing her breasts and n*****s. His lips and tongue traced over her lips, chin, and neck, varying between gentle nips and firmer bites, leaving hot, wet trails on her skin.

He lowered himself, cupping her ass with both hands, slowly spreading her legs apart. He rubbed the head of his c**k against her entrance, occasionally pushing in just a little before quickly pulling out. Her body trembled slightly, and she couldn't suppress her gasps.

Her response to his touch made his gaze grow even more intense. He growled in her ear, "Do you want me? Tell me, tell me!"

His movements became more ferocious, gripping her waist tightly to hold her in place as he thrust his c**k deep into her p***y, grinding against her most sensitive spots. Her body quivered with each of his thrusts, her mouth letting out soft, seductive moans. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, trying to alleviate the intense pleasure. Each thrust reached her deepest parts, driving her to the brink of losing her mind. The mix of pain and pleasure nearly brought her to tears.

He continued to growl in her ear, "Say it, you want me!"

Finally, she couldn't hold back, gasping and moaning, "I want you, please f**k me!"

She matched his rhythm, chasing the climax as he drove her to the edge of madness. At the peak of ecstasy, he too couldn't hold back, grunting as he held her tightly, kissing her fiercely. In a wave of overwhelming pleasure, he gave her everything, spilling his c*m, desire, love, hate, and momentarily lost soul into her.

Even long after the madness ended, he was reluctant to move. She also remained still, eyes closed, silent. He lifted his head, looking at her face, watching the color fade from her cheeks with some regret. He touched the tip of her nose lightly and said in a hoarse voice, "If you had been this obedient earlier, things would have been better."

She suddenly opened her eyes and pushed him away. He didn’t get angry, just watched her with a rare calmness, even handing her a tissue from the car, asking considerately, "Do you want to take a shower?"

There was no way she could take a shower. It would be impossible to explain to her family why she left the dinner table and then returned freshly showered. She was filled with anger but didn’t dare to provoke him, so she lowered her eyes and dressed herself quietly. "No, please take me back. My family is waiting."

He felt she was ungrateful, his recently softened heart turning cold again. He sneered, pressed the intercom button, and instructed, "Kevin, take us back to where we came from."

Kevin’s calm voice responded, "Understood."

The car turned around and headed back the way it came, arriving at the small street once more. Before the car had fully stopped, Emily opened the door and jumped out, walking quickly without looking back. After a few steps, she heard Damian calling her from behind. Reluctantly, she turned back to see him standing beside the car, hands in his pockets, looking at her with a faint smile. "Ms. Carter, be careful walking. Don’t let your husband see anything amiss."

She glared at him and answered, "Fine."

Ryan didn’t notice anything wrong. He trusted her completely and would never doubt her. He only saw the fatigue on her face and felt sorry for her. Back at home, he advised, "If the job is too hard, just quit. You’ll need to find a new job after getting your doctorate anyway. Don’t wear yourself out over those kids and miss out on your birthday."

Emily wanted to cry. Guilt and shame tortured her, making her unable to meet Ryan’s eyes. Forcing a smile, she took her clothes to the bathroom, saying, "It’s just a busy period because it’s the end of the year."

She locked the bathroom door, cried for a long time, and scrubbed herself clean multiple times before coming out. Ryan was watching TV in the living room. Noticing her red eyes, he asked, "What’s wrong with your eyes?"

"Nothing, just got shampoo in them while washing my hair." She sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder, staring at the TV screen for a while before suddenly saying, "Ryan, let’s get a divorce, okay?"

Ryan was startled. "What did you say?"

Her eyes were red as she looked at him. After a moment, she suddenly started laughing, harder and harder until she was lying on the couch. He reached out to pull her up, "Emily, what’s wrong? Why are you laughing?"

She continued to laugh, tears streaming down her face, wiping them away as she said, "I was joking. At school today, a colleague told a joke about wives suddenly asking for a divorce and the strange responses they got. So we all agreed to try it at home."

He believed her, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation, rubbing her head affectionately. "You scared me. Don’t joke about things like that. ‘Divorce’ isn’t a word to be thrown around lightly."

She wiped away her tears but couldn’t forget her earlier question. "But you haven’t told me your answer."

"What answer?" he asked, "Divorce?"

"Yes!" She nodded, her expression serious. "Ryan, you need to give me an answer. If I asked for a divorce, what would you do?"

Ryan frowned slightly, clearly reluctant to answer. But seeing her persistence, he sighed and said, "Alright, I’ll answer you. If you asked for a divorce because you didn’t love me anymore, I’d let you go because I love you. If you still loved me but wanted a divorce because of other issues, then we’d solve those issues together. If I can’t solve them alone, we’d face them together because we love each other."