Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 418: Angry Sex 1

Sofia’s POV

The moment Olivia slipped out of the office, silence fell. My smile dropped like it had never existed. I turned slowly to Damien, my chest burning with an emotion I didn’t want to name.

"I know my sister," I said, frowning. "Olivia has no intention of... of this. But you—" I stepped closer, glaring straight into his sharp eyes. "You are a whore, Damien. Stay away from her. She is your nephew’s mate."

His lips curled into a scoff, and the mocking glint in his eyes only stoked my anger.

"Is that jealousy I’m seeing?" His voice was low, taunting. "Yes... you’re jealous because Olivia is better than you. And you know it."

My hand itched to slap him, but before I could, he caught my wrist, yanking me closer. Heat surged between us, wild and suffocating.

"You arrogant bastard," I hissed, my nails digging into his chest. "I hate you."

"Then hate me properly," he growled, and before I could retort, his mouth crashed against mine.

The kiss was violent, a battle of anger and fire. I pushed at him; he shoved me back against the desk, papers scattering to the floor. My teeth grazed his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he cursed into my mouth.

"Whore," I spat between kisses.

"Jealous witch," he shot back, his grip tightening on my waist.

His mouth crashed against mine again, rough and hungry, and this time I didn’t fight it. My body betrayed me, leaning into him even as my mind screamed I hated him. His hands gripped my waist hard, dragging me against the sharp edge of his body until I could feel the heat of him pressing into me through our clothes.

his lips, but he swallowed my protest with another kiss, deeper, harsher. His tongue forced mine into a battle I didn’t want to lose. My

hot on my skin as his lips trailed down to my throat. His teeth scraped

do," I whispered, but

fabric of my dress. My breath hitched. The ache between my thighs was

office. My chest rose and fell as the fabric loosened, slipping down my shoulders.

feet, leaving me in nothing but thin lace. His eyes burned into

he hissed, his

desire. He shoved his jacket off, then tore open the buttons of his shirt, exposing hard muscle and scars. I wanted to touch him and hated myself for it, and

but my fingers were already tugging

desperate," he shot back, lips crashing onto

down, hooking beneath my thighs, and in one swift motion he lifted me onto the desk. Papers scattered, the wood hard beneath me, but I didn’t

my collarbone, down to the swell of my breast, lips biting,

my mouth like a curse and a plea at

cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. I hated how good it felt. Every bite, every rough lick sent heat shooting down my body until

growled,

up," I gasped, yanking at his belt until it came loose. The metallic click of the buckle echoed, and I shoved his trousers down, desperate

lace aside with no patience. The first brush of his fingers against me made me jolt,

taunted, pressing harder, circling

his fingers moved me,

ripped the lace from me. The sound of tearing fabric made me gasp, my chest heaving

him away.

I whispered, even as