𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟔

DAMON
LARS

I finally stepped into the penthouse after the brutal boxing match at my father's club, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Another win, no surprise there. Every opponent that stepped into the ring with me was weak as hell, nothing more than a brief distraction. The moment I walked in, I knew the outcome. Boxing wasn't just a sport to me—it was the ticket to everything I wanted. Each victory added another million dollars to my inheritance, and by now, my bank account was practically overflowing. I didn't need my father's money; I had built my own empire, one punch at a time.

I drove like a fucking maniac, eager to get back. Not because I needed to rest, but because Marcella was waiting for me. The thought of her—of what we'd left unfinished—had been clawing at me the whole time I fought. While I was in that ring, all I could think about was getting back to her. The way she felt on my lap earlier, her soft body pressed against mine. The way she kissed me, how she made me feel... I had to finish what we started.

I slammed the door open, my senses instantly assaulted by the familiar sight of the penthouse. Stella and Grayson were in the kitchen, their movements sloppy and uncoordinated. They were drunk, their bodies tangled in an intimate mess as they nursed glasses of wine. Typical, but I didn't give a damn about them right now.

"Where's Marcella?" I asked, my voice sharp and demanding, cutting through the haze of their laughter.

"In your guys' bedroom," Stella slurred, half-laughing as Grayson nipped at her neck. The sight made my blood boil with frustration. They were too fucking drunk to even realize I was there. I didn't have time for their antics. I had one thing on my mind—Marcella.

I didn't waste another second. I stormed into the bedroom, the door slamming behind me as I found her sitting on the bed, casually reading a book. The second our eyes met, she set it down, her gaze flicking to mine with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something deeper.

"How was—" she began, but I silenced her with a single step forward, my voice more of a demand than a question.

_

MARCELLA
CRIST

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the weight of his words settle in the air between us. My chest tightened as I slowly lifted my eyes, locking onto the deep, commanding gaze that held me captive. There was a darkness there, cold and calculated, like he knew exactly how to break me down. The flicker of power in his eyes was undeniable.

"Get on your knees, angel," he commanded, his voice low and dark, dripping with a mixture of authority and something else — something I couldn't quite place but knew would haunt me through the night. "Today is going to be a long night." His words were a promise, laced with danger, leaving a chill that crawled down my spine. I didn't move, but the tremor in my body was unmistakable.

Feeling my breath hitch in my chest as I struggled to keep pace, confusion clouded my thoughts at his unexpected request. Was he really asking me to kneel before him at this late hour, with Stella and Grayson in the next room? Concern about our loudness in such close proximity flashed through my mind.  "Damon, Stella and Gray are—"

"No, Marcella. Now."

Not thinking twice, I swiftly approached him and slowly lowered myself to the ground, my head tilting up to meet his gaze with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. "Take them off with your teeth." he ordered. My heart raced with a blend of nerves and excitement, eager to comply with his wishes. The command to obey his every word echoed firmly in my mind, affirming my determination to be the submissive he desired.

I nodded, placing my hands on the side of his hips. Holding the waistband of his sweats and boxer, dragging them down with my teeth. I took another glance at him, he watched me while his blue darkened at me.

He watched me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his eyes a dark storm of emotions I couldn't fully decipher. There was something in the way his gaze lingered, something almost vulnerable beneath the cold command. It was as if he feared, for a moment, that he was crossing a line—maybe even corrupting me beyond redemption. The slightest tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his sides, told me that he was torn between wanting to dominate and some twisted hesitation. I couldn't tell if it was pity or guilt, but whatever it was, it left an unsettling taste in the air.

"Oh my god," I whispered, my breath hitching as I gazed at his hardened manhood with a mixture of desire and anticipation. Damon, ever the embodiment of sensuality, toyed with a strand of my hair before tenderly tucking it behind my ear, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "Open your mouth, love. Take me all at once," he urged in a voice laced with primal need.

Eager to satisfy his craving, I obediently descended, enveloping his throbbing cock in my willing mouth and enveloping him in a passionate embrace. As I indulged in the intimate act, I could feel his reactions keenly – the involuntary shudder that ran through him as he exhaled deeply, the possessive grip of his hand on my hair, pulling me closer. As my body trembled with the orgasm release, Damon's touch guided me through the storm of pleasure, his ministrations coaxing my climax to its peak.

It was a symphony of bliss, a symphony in which we were the only players, attuned to each other in ways that defied logic. Fuck, we were messy.

_