My Guardian Devil
My Guardian Devil
~Lyra~
“…he seems like a man who takes discipline very seriously.”
I blinked. I blinked again. I wanted to scream.
My mother just said Damon Thornvale. The man currently buried so deep inside me I could feel his heartbeat in my p***y. The man who had made me come four times and was grinding into my sore, swollen clit right now with two fingers like I was his own personal fucktoy. The man who literally had my best friend calling him Daddy two days ago.
She just called that man a role model.
“I think he’ll help you stay on track,” my mum continued, like she wasn’t talking about my ruin in real time. You’ve always been a bit… impulsive. Rebellious. But he’s firm. Focused. Protective.”
I let out a noise.
It wasn’t a moan. Not this time.
It was some kind of strangled sob–laugh–choke hybrid because what the f**k was happening right now.
Damon leaned over my back, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You hear that, sweetheart?” he whispered, smug as hell. “Mummy wants me to discipline you.”
My p***y clenched like it agreed. Traitor.
“I-“I tried to speak but Damon pushed his knot a little deeper and my whole back arched like he’d
electrocuted me.
“Sorry,” I stammered into the phone.
He snickered against my neck.
I hated him.
I hated how good it felt.
I hated how my body betrayed me every second his hands stayed on me and his c**k stayed inside me and my mum kept talking like I wasn’t already past the point of damnation.
“I’ll send your school records over,” she was saying now. “You’ll register there before the next term. Tasha said she’ll help you settle. And Mr. Thornvale has already agreed to supervise.”
Like..what the f**k did she just say?
No, actually. What in the seven levels of hormonal teenage hell did she just say?
Because it sounded like she said school records.
It sounded like she said she was sending my school records.
To him.
To this house.
My Guardian Devil
To this man.
To this very bed where I was currently full of his c*m, full of his c**k, full of his knot, and completely void of
any remaining dignity.
I blinked like the words might rearrange themselves if I stared hard enough.
“Wait,” I said, my voice shaking like a faulty church fan. “Mum. What do you mean school records? Why are you sending anything? What is going on? Like what exactly is the reason we’re suddenly transferring my
entire academic life to Tasha’s house?”
She sighed.
The sigh.
The sigh that meant: Don’t start, Lyra.
“You’re almost done with high school, Lyra. One grade left. It just makes sense. You’re comfortable there, you’re focused, you and Tasha have each other, and Mr. Thornvale–well–he’s been so gracious.”
I choked on air.
“Gracious?” I echoed. “He’s been… gracious?”
Damon shifted behind me.
Still inside.
Still thick.
Still knotted like the c**k of a f*****g goddamn werewolf on heat.
Still pulsing.
I could feel everything.
Every vein.
Every twitch.
Every silent, smug little grind of his hips as he pressed his c**k deeper into me like this was some kind of private game he was winning just by existing.
And my mother just called him gracious.
I almost screamed.
“No no no no no,” I babbled, my whole body spasming, my arms wobbling like I was going to collapse face–first into the c*m–stained sheets.
“Mum you can’t be serious. Like this is not a little decision. This is my whole life. My whole school year. You’re saying I should just stay here permanently? After summer? Like stay stay? What if I don’t want to stay? What if I hate it here? What if I get possessed by a demon and murder someone in their sleep? What if -what if the house catches fire? What if I develop a mushroom allergy and there’s mushrooms everywhere? What if I fall in love with-”
I cut myself off.
Holy f**k.
My Guardian Devil
Nope.
Not finishing that sentence.
Damon chuckled behind me, his breath hot on my shoulder like he knew. Like he could taste the panic rising up my spine and wanted to smear it between my thighs with his next lazy thrust.
“You’re overthinking again,” my mum said, like I didn’t have half a liter of his c*m dripping out of me and soaking into Tasha’s sheets. “You always do this. You spiral. You talk too much. You catastrophize. Just breathe. We’ve thought about it. We’ve prayed about it. This is what’s best for you.”
Best for me?
Best for me?
No. Best for me would be teleporting back to my own bed, erasing the last seventy–two hours, and surgically removing every memory I had of Damon Thornvale’s tongue between my legs while I called him Daddy like a
depraved little orphan on heat.
“This isn’t fair,” I whispered, trying not to sob. “You didn’t even ask me.”
“I’m not asking,” she said gently. “I’m telling.”
And that’s when I knew.
I was f****d.
Not just literally.
Not just physically.
Not just emotionally, spiritually, academically, psychologically.
I was universally, cosmically, universally–f*****g–f****d.
Because now I was trapped.
In this house.
With him.
“I’ll take care of her,” he mouthed silently, mockingly, toward the phone as if my mother could see him.
Then he looked down at me.
Still under him.
Still trembling.
His palm dragged down my spine again, slow, steady, then curved under my hips like I was weightless. Like I wasn’t already shaking so bad I couldn’t breathe.
“You hear that, sweetheart?” he murmured, hips starting to move again, this time deeper, sharper, crueler. I’m gonna take care of you.”
”
I gasped, my fingers curling into the sheets as his c**k began grinding against every destroyed nerve inside me like he was punishing me for every sound I’d made on that call.
“I’m gonna make sure you sleep on time,” he growled, thrusting harder, “after I f**k the attitude out of you.” My body jerked. The bed creaked. I couldn’t stop the broken noise that spilled out of my throat.
3/0
My Guardian Devil
“I’ll supervise your studies,” he hissed, snapping his hips into mine so hard I nearly screamed. “With your legs tied. Your p***y soaked. Your mouth stuffed so you don’t make noise while you revise.”
I moaned into the mattress, my eyes fluttering, my p***y clenching like it was starving.
“I’ll discipline you,” he went on, f*****g harder now, rougher, using my body like it was his property and the world needed to know it. “Every time you lie to your mother. Every time you talk back. Every time you forget
who owns this tight little cunt.”
I couldn’t breathe.
My whole body was rocking into the bed with every brutal thrust, his knot dragging against the sore, overstretched edges of my p***y like it was meant to rip me open and fill me again.
“She thinks I’m protecting you,” Damon grunted, gripping my hips tighter, dragging me back onto his c**k like I was his own personal fucktoy. “But I’m not. I’m corrupting you.”
He slammed into me.
I cried out.
“I’m destroying every innocent thought you’ve ever had,” he hissed, his voice feral now, wild, filthy, dripping with heat and hunger. “And your f*****g body loves it.”
I did.
God help me, I did.
My p***y was clenching around him like it had been waiting for this all my life. My thighs were shaking. My n*****s were throbbing. I was soaked, swollen, stretched, ruined. And he was f*****g me through it like my soul belonged to him now.
“She just handed you over to me,” he growled into my ear, f*****g me so deep I sobbed into the pillow. “And I’m never letting you go.”
Then he gripped the back of my neck, shoved me flat against the bed, and whispered the filthiest promise I’d ever heard in my entire ruined, shaking, overstimulated life.
“You’re mine now, Lyra. Every moan. Every orgasm. Every f*****g inch of this tight little cunt. Mine to punish. Mine to train. Mine to breed.”
And then.
“Lyra? Are you still there?”
My mother’s voice.
I wanted to die.
I wanted the earth to open up, swallow me whole, and bury me in the Mariana Trench with a plaque that said here lies the dumbest girl alive, who moaned on a call with her mother while getting knotted like a b***h in
heat.
But I couldn’t move. Damon’s c**k was still twitching inside me. His hand was still gripping my hips like he owned me. I couldn’t f*****g move.
“Lyra, I’ll take that silence as a yes,” she continued, voice tightening like she was switching into final–mom–mode. “So get ready, okay? Summer is about to end soon. ! expect you to behave. No drama. No
4/6
My Guardian Devil
chaos. And please–Lyra, don’t cause trouble.”
My lips parted.
“What?” I croaked, barely able to breathe. “Mum, you know—”
But she didn’t let me finish.
She didn’t let me beg.
She didn’t let me scream please don’t do this, please don’t leave me with him, please I’m being destroyed
right now.
She just cut the call.
The line went dead.
Just like that.
Like my fate had been signed, sealed, and delivered right into the hands of the man still knotted so deep inside me my womb was fluttering like it wanted to be claimed.
Reamy
“f**k,” I whispered. “No. No, no, no. No this is not happening. Oh my God. She hung up. She actually hung up. She didn’t even wait. She didn’t let me explain. She didn’t ask if I was sure. She didn’t even give me time to fake a seizure or scream or accidentally confess that I was being held hostage in a mansion with a d**k too big to survive.”
I was spiraling.
I was absolutely spiraling.
Because my mother–the same woman who once grounded me for two weeks for forgetting to soak the beans–just f*****g dropped a life sentence on me and hung up like she’d ordered pizza.
And I was still face–down in a bed.
Still naked.
Still shaking.
Still split wide open with Damon Thornvale’s knot locked inside me like some demonic seal of ownership.
And now I was officially his.
Not just for the summer.
Not for a week.
But permanently.
For the rest of the school year.
“I’m going to die,” I whispered into the mattress. “No actually. I’m going to disintegrate. I’m going to melt into this bed like a cursed candle and no one’s ever going to find my bones because you’re going to f**k me into
extinction.”
Damon just laughed.
Laughed.
Like this was hilarious.
My Guardian Devil
Like my whole breakdown was the prelude to his f*****g victory speech.
“She didn’t even say goodbye,” I ranted, blinking hard as my eyes welled up, not from sadness but from complete mental combustion. “She didn’t ask if I needed pads. Or if I was feeling homesick. Or if the fan is still making weird ghost sounds at 2am. She just said behave and cut the call like I’m not currently being turned into a s*x puppet by the man she just appointed as my guardian.”
I looked back at him.
Wrong move.
Royalty Writes
7
#Vote# Hey there my dear readers. I am sorry I updated a little bit late today. Thank y’all so much for the amazing support!!!
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