Lying in the comfort of our familiar bed in North Dakota, I felt a burn in the palm of my hand, a lingering reminder of the coin that had been there. As I examined my palm, memories flooded back. Was it true? Could an evil presence exist within my husband, Damon, his malevolent twin brother? Determined to uncover the truth, I knew I couldn't disclose my suspicions to Damon just yet. I had to search for evidence discreetly. The memory of the scent of a wet dog lingered in my mind as I remembered the whole deal. But what could I possibly do about it?
Before I could ponder further, Damon entered the room, his face lighting up as he noticed I was awake. Hurriedly, he rushed towards me, enveloping me in his arms.
"Baby, you're awake. Oh, my god. You're really awake," he exclaimed, his trembling body betraying his excitement.
Inhaling deeply, the sweet aroma of passion fruit filled my senses, accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart. I allowed Damon to hold me for a little longer before speaking up.
"Yep, awake. And without the coin," I stated, prompting him to loosen his grip and meet my gaze.
I could sense his happiness through our mating bond.
Damon smiled and glanced at my palm. "Dresden says you've banished the demon entirely. You're free from its clutches," he assured me.
Reflecting for a moment, I couldn't help but question, "Is this real, or is it just the demon trying to convince me that everything is fine?"
Skepticism still lingered within me, and I cursed my vulnerability and longing for a perfect world. Damon chuckled, dismissing my doubts.
"Everything is fine, no need to worry," he reassured.
Silence enveloped us momentarily as I recalled "Damien's" claim of manipulating Damon. I needed to be certain, so I demanded Damon's phone. Confused, he handed it over, and I swiftly searched through his contacts. Sabrina, Sarah, Sybilla. No Sark. Sighing, I continued my search, finding no other medical contacts.
I returned the phone to Damon, who questioned, "Satisfied?"
I replied sharply, "Yeah, but never do that again."
Damon remained silent, unaware of what Mimi had disclosed. Somehow, he had reached Mimi, triggering her memories, but it hadn't left an impression on himself.
Damien, feeling content, finally allowed himself to rest. Mimi, filled with hope and anticipation, believed that brighter days were on the horizon for her and Damon. Damien relished the power he held over her, knowing she trusted in Damon's inherent goodness.
Oh, how he longed to shatter her dreams, to unleash the intoxicating scent of passionfruit, and taint Damon's memories. Mimi's unwavering faith in him was a weapon, yet he refused to reciprocate, refusing to believe Damon was flawless.
Now, he would engage in a twisted game, manipulating not just Mimi but others as well - Adam, Samuel, and Dresden. The thought of exerting control over so many souls thrilled him. And if, by some chance, Damon believed in Mimi, found him, and sought to end him, Damien had a fail-safe.
He had created a copy of himself, a contingency plan to ensure his immortality. Even in death, he would return in a new form, unrecognizable to Mimi. But that was merely a backup plan. In the meantime, he would inflict immeasurable harm upon Mimi, making Damon believe he was the culprit.
Perhaps he could even orchestrate Damon's demise, claiming Mimi for himself without ever revealing the truth of Damon's fate. But now, as sleep beckoned, Damien felt his resolve waver. The love between Damon and Mimi weakened him, seeping into his subconscious, and he succumbed to its embrace.
Mimi had been in a deep slumber for another three long weeks since their return from the Vatican. The lingering effects of the anesthesia had stubbornly refused to wear off, keeping her in a sleep-induced haze. Damon had patiently waited throughout those three weeks, eagerly anticipating the moment Mimi would finally awaken.
Now, as she slowly opened her eyes, Damon felt a surge of relief and joy. He vowed that from this moment on, they would create something truly magical, something perfect together, and make unforgettable memories once again. Damon had glimpsed Mimi's dream world, witnessing her engagement with Adam. He knew that making her dreams come true in this reality was within reach, as long as he remained vigilant.
Hauptmann, a formidable rival, posed an actual threat to Damon's aspirations. Mimi's feelings for Adam ran deep, complicating matters further. But Damon had a plan. He was determined to enable Mimi to realize her dreams once more. In addition, he had embarked on a journey to become a cat show judge. Damon hoped to showcase his commitment and authenticity to Mimi by involving Adam in this endeavor.
Entering the medbay, Damon noticed Mimi still in a drowsy state, having fallen back asleep after he released his grip on her.
Samuel, busy tidying up the room, looked up as Damon entered. "Did we have an adrenaline implant in here? Missy woke up, but fell back asleep. She might be awake now," Damon inquired.
Samuel nodded and pointed to the top cupboard. "Yeah, there are some implants specifically made for Mimi. Grab the applicator and the remotes, too," he replied.
Damon reached into the cupboard, carefully retrieving the implant, applicator, and remote. Holding them in his hands, he felt a mix of hope and determination. He returned to the bedroom, ready to continue his mission of awakening Mimi from her slumber and embarking on a journey to make her dreams a reality.
I woke up with my heart pounding; the thumping echoing in my ears. I sat up, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Damon was sitting in the chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Good, it works," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, baby. I've implanted adrenaline in you. The medicine still surges through your blood, which will help." His words sent a shiver down my spine.
He held up a remote in his hand and grinned, revealing his sharp teeth. "My teeth will taste it when it's gone," he warned. Nervously, I nodded.
My hands were trembling uncontrollably, my body craving more than just the rush of adrenaline. The blood thirst surged within me, and I couldn't help but notice how enticing Damon's neck looked.
Sensing my thoughts, Damon glanced over at me and cautioned, "Don't even think about attacking me, missy."
He then instructed me to take a shower, get dressed, and join him for a meal downstairs.
"You'll have blood there," he assured.
For some reason, I obeyed his commands, though it unsettled me.
I slipped into the clothes Damon had chosen for me. I had lost weight before being captured by Nicodemus, and I had been feeding during my three-month slumber. But now, I was determined not to pursue him any longer.
Downstairs, I found Adam and Samuel busy at work. Samuel's gaze met mine, and they spoke gently, "I'm not preaching to you, but missy, you hadn't eaten nearly enough. Luckily, we had time to get you back in tiptop shape."
Adam nodded in agreement, adding, "You were only 36 kilos before. Now you weigh 58 kilos. You need to take better care of yourself."
I didn't argue. They were both right, and I knew my reckless pursuit of Nicodemus had led me to this point.
As I sat down for breakfast, Damon approached me with a large jug of blood mix. He poured some into a mug and handed it to me, keeping the jug for himself. I drank in a controlled manner, following his lead.
"Now, baby," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let's go after you eat and get a cat show judging rights. You too, Hauptmann. No objections."
Adam grumbled, "Yeah, when I can't handle an alpha crisis, and Bran can't take care of everyone."
Damon fell silent for a moment before relenting, "Well, at least I tried. Fine. You go be Bran's little lap poodle while my wife and I make our escape."
Bran had taken our pack under his wing after the coin was taken from me.
I continued to drink the blood at the pace Damon ordered, finishing my meal. It was a substantial amount of food, and only then did I feel the satisfying fullness in my stomach.
As we made our way to become cat show judges, we ventured into New Jersey to claim our rights. Arriving at our grand mansion, I proudly showcased the gold-decorated doorjambs to Damon. His impressed expression spoke volumes, his advanced age allowing him to appreciate their significance truly.
Eager for more gold, Damon skillfully engraved intricate designs onto our doors, adding a touch of platinum and silver to the ornaments. I watched as he replaced some gravings made by Mirella and put them in place, ensuring they were securely protected and unable to be removed.
The pièce de résistance was our front door, adorned with a stunning letter S crafted from genuine gold. Damon's dexterity with his hands was commendable. He removed Mirella's name and put his name on top, Lord Damon Salvatore. He added one symbol to my name, marking me as his one true vampire wife.
As I observed him, he spoke to me with a confident tone: "Listen, baby. As you grow older, you'll gain skills. I've locked your blood room, and now I'll properly deal with your vampire side. The restlessness and sloppiness will vanish, granting you peace. "
I nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in his words.
"Yes, but I have also noticed certain feline tendencies within me," I admitted.
Damon paused his work, his gaze piercing into mine. "Such as?" he inquired.
I hesitated before replying, "Once, I hissed at Adam when he meddled with my treats."
A chuckle escaped Damon's lips as he warned me, "If you dare to hiss at me, my pussycat, be prepared for a painful response."
I remained silent, sensing a shift in Damon's tone. Curiosity got the best of me, so I tested the waters.
Nonchalantly, I remarked, "Well, in that case, Adam has a knack for tying me up in bed, leaving me utterly helpless and aroused."
Damon's eyes widened, heat emanating from them.
Arching an eyebrow, he responded, "Oh, that's quite the revelation. Are you ready for what I got for you? So, baby, compared to that, Adam's actions seem like soft porn?"
I met his gaze defiantly, choosing to say nothing as I approached the kitchen to resume baking.
I had been busy baking in the kitchen, the warm aroma of freshly baked cakes filling the air. Ten stuffed cakes sat on the counter, waiting to be filled. I kept the toppings simple, opting for a quick and easy decoration. Though I had some experience in cake decorating from my time in a bakery and attending a cake decorating school in Europe, I knew these cakes required nothing extravagant. The focus was on the delicious fillings I had prepared. The cakes themselves were made with nut flours, giving them a rich and unique flavor.
As I was about to whip the cream into a froth and mix in the curd, Damon entered the kitchen.
He glanced at the cakes and confidently said, "Don't bother with those cakes. I'll take care of them."
I nodded, grateful for his help, and found a moment to sit down and rest.
Damon approached the table and picked up the piping bag, his fingers skillfully maneuvering it. To my surprise, he began creating exquisite decorations and buttercream, each cake receiving his professional touch. It was as if he had been a cake decorator in the past, his expertise shining through. Meanwhile, I continued my work on the chocolate bonbons, placing them delicately on a tray. The passionfruit and strawberry champagne flavors filled the room, tempting the senses.
There were also a couple of cotton candy bonbons, their fluffy sweetness adding a whimsical touch. Damon attracted Mimosa, my wolf, out of her hiding spot in my mind, so she jumped through my eyes. However, Mirella remained elusive, despite Damon's attempts to coax her out. The reason for her shyness remained a mystery.
Mimosa and I were feeling mischievous as we entered the beautifully renovated master bedroom that Damon had meticulously fixed up.
"Come on, husband," I whispered, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Let's play a little game. Sit in that plush chair, and I'll tie you up. You can watch."
Damon raised an intrigued eyebrow and replied, "Fine, I'm in."
With nimble fingers, I secured Damon to the chair, his clothes still on. Mimosa emerged from the shadows, her presence electrifying the air. As I undressed, our bodies intertwined with desire, Damon let out a low, primal grunt. Ignoring his comment, Mimosa's tongue delved deep into my pussy, sending waves of pleasure that seemed to reach the depths of my core. The sensation of her cold nose against my clitoris was tantalizingly exquisite.
However, our passionate playtime was abruptly interrupted by a loud crack. The chair gave way under Damon's fervor, prompting him to undress and take charge. He eagerly began fucking Mimosa while she continued to devour my wetness. Damon's dominance was overpowering, leaving Mimosa trembling beneath him.
Soon enough, Damon turned his attention to me. With a primal hunger, he thrust himself inside, capturing my hands and commanding me to learn new pleasures. I surrendered to the sensations, focusing solely on my pleasure.
As he filled me completely, Damon momentarily withdrew, remarking, "The little bitch is quite talented in bed." He disappeared momentarily, returning with a pair of bags.
I found myself chained. Legs spread wide, hands bound, and a blindfold tightly secured.
Damon placed a clitoral butterfly on me, whispering, "You can't come, my obedient bitch. You must behave."
My body betrayed me as waves of pleasure crashed over me, causing me to climax uncontrollably. In an instant, a sharp blow landed on my breasts, Damon's whip leaving a stinging mark. His growl echoed in my ears, reminding me that disobedience would not go unpunished.
Oh, how I relished being a naughty little bitch, succumbing to the intensity of our desires. The sensation of his hand against my skin, the sting of the whip, it all fueled the fiery passion between us.
Damon bound me in various intricate positions, rendering me utterly defenseless as he took me again and again. Blindfolded at times, I couldn't anticipate his next move. We indulged in passionate fuckfest for an entire week. Eventually, Damon released me from my restraints, leading me to the shower, where he ravished me with intensity, the water cascading over us.
Afterward, we satiated our hunger and embarked on a journey of exploring different cat breeds and attending training shows. Despite the demanding nature of our activities, we had an incredibly gratifying time.
Damon maintained a firm grip on my well-being. We engaged in extensive discussions about when to confront our adversaries. It wasn't until two weeks later that he removed the adrenaline implant, allowing the medication to dissipate completely. There was no lingering scent of wet dogs, even when Damon grew frustrated with my habit of leaving clothes behind. It made me question the existence of Damien, but I chose not to voice my doubts to Damon just yet.
I understood I would investigate and inquire with Bran directly. However, there was a risk that if Bran knew about Damien and concealed it from me, he could exploit his power as the Marrok and demand my silence. So, I abandoned the idea of confronting Bran for now.
Damon was determined to keep my vampire side in check. He meticulously dictated which blood I consumed and in what quantities. He possessed extensive knowledge in this area and constantly emitted his vampire pheromones to maintain my serenity.
We even frequented the gym, where Damon's strict training methods surpassed those of Magnum. We had consecrated that too and, of course, a spa as well. He playfully provoked my rage, only to eat it afterward. With a smirk, he reveled in how he could harness my power. It served as a reminder for me to control my rage, not allowing it to empower a smug bastard, even if he was my husband.
Once again, we fucked furiously every night, all night, and oh my god, if we had a day off at the same time, we couldn't get out of bed.
Oh, how nice it was when we were all sweaty in the morning, and Damon said, "Baby, I'm going to make some coffee so we can have breakfast and maybe go to the store today."
I was waiting for Damon to get out of bed, and I took or let the sheet accidentally fall off while I was stretching. I didn't notice that Damon had gone nowhere. Let's just say we didn't go to the store when Damon came back to bed and kissed me passionately.
He turned me on all fours and pressed down on my upper torso and began demanding submission and surrender, at the same time sinking into my ass slowly, hard, thickly. So that the tightening and burning was almost too much. Even when I was a little bitch. Yes, I always submitted and surrendered. There was no doubt about it.
Then he pushed right up my ass and started fucking the little bitch the way he wanted to, and the little bitch had nothing to say about it. The little bitch just takes it all in and enjoys it. Oh yes, yes, this little bitch was pretty much in a wild frenzy, almost.
Damon said I was impossible when I seduced him back to bed, but what can I do to myself? I'm just a naughty little bitch. We had some rough bondage play. Damon was very dominant and kept testing my limits, and I was done. Nothing was enough for the sex beast.
We got our judging rights in three weeks, and then we were again put on different shows but were always in the same state. We bought our own cars again. I had a peach-colored Aston Martin, a convertible, and Damon had a Mercedes Benz SUV, I think. I didn't pay that much attention. We were on a cat show tour for six months together, so again, maybe a total of seven or a little over, but we judged cats all over America for six months.
We had such a fantastic time for the entire six months again. We were nestled on the plush couch in Chicago, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the timeless classic Gone with the Wind. The film played in vibrant colors on the screen, filling the room with a flickering glow. Damon, with a glimmer in his eyes, confessed his admiration for the leading lady, Vivien Leigh.
As the movie played on, Damon's hands wandered, distracting me from the epic tale unfolding before us. The hours seemed to stretch on as my mind wandered to other desires. The scent of freshly melted chocolate filled the room as we worked together. Damon always excelling with his expertise. He patiently shared his secrets, guiding me to create confections that delighted more often than they disappointed.
Cooking became our shared passion, and I eagerly shared the recipes Mirella had taught me. But Damon, in his own culinary prowess, added his personal touch, adjusting the flavors to suit my taste. Without a word, he discreetly discarded half of the spices we had used, claiming they were not suitable for me. His actions were shrouded in mystery, leaving me to wonder why he made such choices.
Amidst our shared endeavors, Damon took particular interest in my jewelry collection and the room dedicated to crafting exquisite pieces. He spent long hours within, locking the door behind him to keep me out. The clink of metal against metal could be heard as he examined each delicate piece, his fascination palpable in the air.
Damon's initial uneasiness about the proposal that had occurred in the realm of dreams was clear. I kept my thoughts on the matter to myself, knowing that if Adam had indeed proposed, an answer would be required. And it would be Yes.
A few times, tensions rose, and I hissed at Damon, forcefully asserting my boundaries when he dared to interfere with a treat I was about to savor. The consequences were swift and painful as he knocked me off balance, pinning me down and draining me with a ruthless hunger. I struggled to contain my hissing, attempting to maintain control in the face of his dominance.
Despite the occasional moments of turmoil, life with Damon was a wondrous and flawless existence. Every aspect seemed to align perfectly, as if the universe had conspired to create this idyllic harmony.