Page 59 of Claimed By the Damned

Bastian

It’s been three days. Three days since I shattered every rule I’d set for myself regarding Lila. Three days since I backed her against my office door, possessed her mouth, and lost myself so completely inside her warmth that the world narrowed to the taste of her skin and the sound of her cries.

I replay the memory constantly. The moment she appeared in my doorway, fragile and terrified after the chase. The instant my control, built over decades, shattered. The raw, undeniableneed– hers for safety, mine to provide it, to claim her, to anchor her. The feel of her body yielding, trusting, coming apart beneath my hands, my mouth, my cock. Burying myself deep inside her, raw and unprotected—that wasn't a mistake. It was a declaration.

I watch her now on my office monitor, a faint smile touching my lips. She’s curled on the living room sofa, sketching, a throw blanket draped over her legs. Ethan sits nearby, cleaning his sidearm. The domestic scene feels almost normal—a sharp contrast to the violence that threw her into our lives. She carries herself differently sincethatnight. She looks… lighter.

As much as I crave control in my own life, I recognize the craving in others. Kolya used control to shatter her, wielding it like a weapon meant to break her spirit. But my kind of control, isn’t about breaking someone—it’s about building a foundation. A sanctuary. Providing structure in the chaos so she feels safe enough to heal. She didn’t just submit to me that night; shesurrenderedto the safety I offered within that dominance. Seeing that fragile peace on her settles something deep in my chest. A rightness.

My possessiveness, usually locked down tight, claws closer to the surface. Every time Ryker makes her laugh or Ethan offers quiet comfort, a part of me wants to make my claim more obviously.But I saw the look in their eyes the morning after. Ryker, offered a single nod—a silent acknowledgment passing between us. Later, Ethan caught my eye, a small, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips.Finally.That silent approval isn't them cutting me slack; it's trust. Trust that I won’t hurt her. Trust in the understanding we all share—Lila needs all of us, in our different ways. And they trust me to be the anchor she needs.

But anchors need foundations. Rules. Clarity. What happened in my office was raw, explosive need – mine as much as hers. And that kind of fire, unchecked, can burn. My possessiveness is a storm, primal and deep, but for her, forus, it must be channeled. My Dom instincts demand I provide structure, not just to controlher, but to controlhowI care for her, ensuring my protective urges guide my possessive ones. It needs definition, for her sake above all. The thought of her feeling unsure, unsafe, confused about what I expect—whatshecan expect fromme—is fucking intolerable.

Decision made, I rise and head towards the living room. She looks up as I enter, her blue eyes widening slightly. The sketchbook trembles in her lap. That subtle reaction—awareness, anticipation, perhaps a hint of nervousness—sends a jolt straight through me.

"Lila," I keep my voice low, calm. Ethan glances up, assesses the situation, and with quiet understanding, murmurs something about coffee before gathering his cleaning kit and heading towards the kitchen, leaving us alone. "Can we talk? Privately in my office."

She nods, clutching the sketchbook tighter before setting it aside. She follows me back towards my office, the scene of our first collision. This time, the atmosphere is different—less frantic, more charged. I close the door behind us, shutting out the rest of the house.

I gesture for her to sit in one of the leather chairs opposite my desk but remain standing myself. I need the space to think, to control the protective and possessive urges already stirring.

"The other night," I begin, leaning back against the edge of my desk, crossing my arms. I keep my posture deliberate—authoritative but relaxed. "What happened between us... wasn't planned. It was heat of the moment, pure need. But it happened. And if we're going to explore this dynamic between us further, it needs to be done correctly. Foryoursake."

Her gaze is fixed on me, attentive, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Dynamic?" she asks softly, testing the word.

"Yes. The Dominance and submission." I state plainly. "Look Lila, I'm a Dom. That's hardwired into me. But the way I operate, my instincts? They lean hard into the Daddy Dom side. Providing that structure, that specific kind of care and control you clearly respond to... that's fundamental to who I am." I pause, making sure she's following. "It’s clearyoucrave that structure, the boundaries. Safety within clear expectations. That’s something I can provide. Something Iwantto provide. But it means rules. Responsibilities. For both of us."

I watch her process this. No fear flickers in her eyes now, just intense focus. She bites her lower lip, a gesture I’m quickly learning signals deep thought… or burgeoning arousal.

"What kind of rules?"

"Rules built on safety and trust," I start, keeping my tone steady. "They define our limits – what you're comfortable with, what I expect, lines neither of us will cross. We establish those boundariestogether. Absolute honesty from you is non-negotiable. And communication underpins everything." I lean forward slightly, emphasizing the next point. "The most crucial element is your safety. You’d have safe words – words that stop everything, instantly, no questions asked and no guilt. Usually 'Red' for a hard stop, 'Yellow' to slow down or checkin, and 'Green' to continue. We establish thesebeforeanything happens." I pause, letting that sink in. "This entire dynamic hinges on trust, Little One. Your absolute trust that I won't truly hurt you, and my trust that you'll use your voice, use the safe words, and communicate your needs and limits honestly."

I outline the basics – the expectation of honesty, obedience within agreed-upon limits, the concept of earning privileges, the potential for discipline if rules are broken—always corrective, never cruel—and the absolute necessity of aftercare, making damn sure she feels safe, comforted, and cherished.

"Discipline isn't about pain for pain's sake," I clarify, watching her reaction closely. "It's about reinforcing the structure that keeps you safe. Consequences, within the dynamic we build. Think about a few weeks ago in the kitchen, when you refused to eat even though I knew you hadn't. The timeout wasn't punishment in anger; it was about ensuring your well-being, correcting a behavior that harmedyou. Your well-being, physical and emotional, willalwaysbe the priority."

She nods slowly, her gaze unwavering. The flush on her cheeks deepens. "And... what do you get out of it?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper, but the question is sharp, perceptive.

The corner of my mouth lifts. "Your trust," I answer immediately. "Your surrender. Knowing you feel safe enough with me to let go completely. Seeing you thrive under my care. Your pleasure, Little One, is inextricably linked to mine." The truth of it settles between us, heavy and intimate.

The air crackles. The discussion about rules and safety dissolves, leaving only the raw power exchange simmering beneath. Her pupils are dilated, her breathing slightly shallower. She wants this. The structure, the safety, the surrender.Me.

"Do you understand, Lila?" My voice drops, rougher now. "Do you understand what I'm offering? The care? The control?"

A shudder runs through her. She gives a small, jerky nod.

"Use your words, Little One." The command is soft but absolute.

Her throat works. "Yes," she breathes. Then, stronger, meeting my gaze directly, "Yes, Daddy."

Fuck. Hearing her say it, consciously, willingly, in this calm moment… it’s a thousand times more potent than when it was torn from her in the heat of passion. My cock strains against my trousers. The need to touch her, claim her under these newly defined terms, is nearly overwhelming.

I push off the desk, closing the distance between us slowly. I stop before her chair, looking down at her. "Then show me you understand. Show me you accept my care."

"Stand up."

She rises immediately, her eyes locked on mine, wide and trusting.

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