Satisfaction

Damien Vale

---

She had let him touch her.

She had let him own her, even if only for that moment.

Damien stood in the dark, watching her silhouette disappear beyond the gates. She hadn't said a word before leaving. No accusations. No tears. No pleas.

That silence was louder than a scream.

She was unraveling. And she knew it.

He ran a hand through his hair, still tasting her skin on his lips—salt and desperation, the edge of surrender. Her body had responded like it remembered everything she wanted to forget. Every kiss. Every scar he left behind.

She didn't beg.

But she trembled.

And that was enough—for now.

Back inside, the room still smelled of her—floral, wild, sharp with fear. Damien inhaled it like incense, anchoring himself in the aftermath.

He didn't feel guilt.

There was no room for regret in obsession. Only strategy. Only hunger.

He poured himself a drink he wouldn't touch and sat down in the chair by the fire. He watched the flames curl, eyes reflecting gold, mind circling her like a predator calculating the next strike.

She was breaking.

But not fast enough.

That touch—their first in years—was a crack in the dam. Soon, it would flood. He'd been patient. Precise. But the need inside him was beginning to outpace his control.

He would have her again.

Not just her body. Her submission. Her darkness. Her trust.

He wanted it all.

And when he had it—

He would never let her go again