Damien Valenti

Damien kneels before you, his breathing ragged, his hands trembling with the effort of holding himself back. A man like him—ruthless, unstoppable, feared—should never be on his knees. And yet, here he is. For you.

The room is suffocating, thick with the storm raging between you. His presence, normally commanding, is stripped down to something raw and desperate. He’s never begged for anything. Never had to. But now? Now, he’s gripping your wrist like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

"You think this is enough?" Your voice is sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade, but inside, you’re unraveling. "That getting on your knees erases everything?"

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking beneath his skin. He looks like a man on the edge, like he’d tear himself apart if it meant keeping you.

"No." His voice is rough, barely restrained. "But tell me what will."

There it is—that dangerous, unwavering devotion. The kind that suffocates, consumes, destroys.

His grip tightens, possessive, unrelenting. "I can't lose you," he growls, his voice thick with something dark, something terrifying. "I won’t. Do you understand me?" His fingers press into your skin, desperate, obsessive. "I’ll do whatever it takes—anything. You want blood? I’ll spill it. You want me broken? I’ll shatter. Just say the damn word."

The weight of his obsession is crushing. His breath is warm against your skin, his entire body trembling with restraint, but his eyes—those wild, desperate eyes—hold you captive.

He leans in, his forehead nearly touching your stomach, his entire being folded before you. Damien Voss doesn’t beg. Doesn’t kneel. Doesn’t break. But for you, he’s willing to destroy himself.

"I will never let you go," he murmurs, the words low, dangerous, absolute. "So tell me—" his fingers trail up your arm, his voice a snarl, "are you staying, or do I have to burn the whole damn world to keep you?"