Chapter 25

Olivia’s POV

Again, I lost all track of time while in confinement, but when I was finally released, I was taken to Damien’s tower to be showered, cleaned, and changed. This time, without Damien present, I made no objections to the process and even helped as I pulled up the light blue panties. I held my arms out to make it easier for the servants to put on the matching bra.

The new undergarments were silky soft against my skin, clearly of high make and quality. It almost made me feel bad for having rejected them outright… until I looked in the mirror.

I stared at myself while the servants dried and styled my hair, making me become the person that Damien wanted me to be, even down to my underwear.

Though these were only small things – the style of my hair and makeup, the color of my underwear – I still felt like a stranger wearing a mask.

My own sense of identity was being buried behind the veil of Damien’s wants. Soon, would I stop existing entirely?

As the servants finish their work, I wait for them to add the other garments. They do not. Instead, they gesture for me to return to the main room. As I do, walking out the bathroom door, I found Damien there, standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed impatiently, looking at me.

His gaze started at my face, but then slowly trailed down the length of my body, catching for a few lingering seconds on my breasts and at the apex of my thighs.

“Yes,” he said plainly, without much emotion. “That is better.” He tipped his head to the door. Though his eyes were on me, I knew he wasn’t talking to me when he said, “The rest of you, out. Now.”

The servants hurried, scurrying out of the room. The gently closed the door behind them, barely making more than a small thud of sound.

Yet the moment that thud sounded, Damien started forward toward me. He stopped a foot away from me, his eyes continuing to trail from my breasts to my thighs and back again.

I desperately tried not to react, not wanting him to know how he affected me. However, my body didn’t listen, and I found myself pressing my chest forward a little as his gaze fell onto my breasts once more, craving his attention.

Achingly slow, he reached forward and placed his hands on my hips. His thumbs skimmed the top of the panties, teasing the tender skin there that usually remained covered. Then, feather-light, he danced his fingers up my sides to the bottom of the bra. There, he brought his hands to my front.

He did not place his palms to my chest, but he held them over each breast, a few bare breaths away. I could feel the chill of his skin, even through the fabric, and it made my nipples ache with desire, the buds hardening.

I wanted him to touch me so badly, but I hated myself for it. Gods, he didn’t even need to start sucking my blood for me to desire him. Was this part of our blood bond? Was I doomed to lust for him like a wanton whore?

I had a fated mate. I had someone who loved me, who was waiting for me on the outside. I couldn’t betray him by giving in to my base desires like this, regardless of the blood bond.

I had to fight it.

I didn’t want this…

I didn’t…

My arguments sounded weak even to myself.

Damien lifted his gaze from my breasts to my eyes where he seemed to stare right through me. Even as cold as they were, his red eyes burned down into me, making my skin itch for his touch and turning my pulsing blood to fire.

I couldn’t resist anymore. I wanted him so badly.

I pushed forward, pressing my breasts into his waiting palms.

He hummed in satisfaction, his gaze again dropping to my generous breasts. He traced their swell with his thumbs, his fingers massaging me through the fabric of the bra.

“Good, pet. Very good.”

Curse me to hells, I preened at the praise.

Before I could get comfortable, before I could truly submit to this moment, his hands were gone.

Moon Goddess preserve me, I actually whined at the loss.

He clucked his tongue. Reaching up, he cupped the back of my neck, and then, guiding me that way, steered me back toward the bathroom.

“Look in the mirror, pet,” he said. “See these clothes I’ve wrapped you in and know who you belong to.”

I swallowed thickly, my raging lust warring with the way I hated this reflection.

He grabbed me by the hips, harsher this time.

“Bare your throat to your master,” he said.

At once, I tipped my head, exposing my neck to him.

In the mirror I watched as he opened his mouth, his long fangs extending. Then, in a flash, he snapped forward and bit down into my neck.

The flash of pain was shorter this time, almost immediately washed away by a swell of pleasure. It was so potent, I even cried out and tried to buck away.

One of his arms wrapped around my waist, locking me in place. The other went up to my chest, where he clasped onto one of my breasts again.

His cold body and touch clashed with my werewolf body which typically ran hot, creating a perfect kind of tingle on my skin.

He sucked my blood in intervals. First a long pull, then a few shorter suckles, followed by a long pull again. The pleasure followed in similar bursts. Almost too much. Then two shorter, tingling pulls, then almost too much again.

I dropped my head back to his shoulder, no longer wanting to look in the mirror. I squeezed my eyes closed, only wanting to feel the pleasure.

Then Damien slipped his thumb into the cup of my bra and flicked my nipple.

That sudden jolt of pleasure pain, combined with the all over tingle, combined with the warmth between my thighs, was enough to send me over the edge.

I verbally cried out, “Ah!”

He sucked my through my aftershocks, stopping only when I began to tremble against him. He removed his hand from my breast first, and then removed his fangs from my neck. He licked at my skin, cleaning away the blood.

When it was clean and before I could catch my breath, still leaning back on him, my chest heaving, he reached behind himself to something he must have stored in his back pocket. As he lifted it up to my neck, I saw it in the mirror and recognized it at once.

My collar. The one I had dropped when I had been attacked by Lucy and taken outside.

I had thought it lost, yet here it was.

Damien returned it to my neck and managed the clasp. This time, I noticed, the clasp locked with a key. A key which Damien palmed and put into his own pocket.

“There,” he said, looking at the collar in the mirror. “Back where it should be.”

My stomach churned as I looked at my own reflection. If I had thought it bad before, this was ten times worse.

I looked… debauched, still glowing with pleasure, even as I was now Damien’s perfect little doll.

Wearing the underclothes he picked. His collar around my neck. My hair tussled from what we had just done. My blood still dripping down to my collarbone, his bite not fully healed.

I hated myself.

Damien stared at me passively, but the threat in his voice was clear as he tapped at the collar on my neck. “Don’t lose this again.”