Chapter 4

On our wedding night, back in the Voss penthouse that overlooked the entire glittering Manhattan skyline, Damien stripped off his clothes slowly, revealing his perfect body—tall and leanly muscled, pale flawless skin that glowed under the soft city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

His broad shoulders tapered to a chiseled chest and defined abs, and his massive cock hung thick and heavy between his powerful thighs, already hardening at the sight of me in the red gown.

I couldn’t believe how huge it was—thick veins pulsing, the head already glistening. It promised to stretch me wide and deep.

I walked to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him down onto the enormous bed. As our bodies pressed together, that familiar intoxicating scent washed over me again, making my core clench with sudden need.

“Damien, you smell so fucking good,” I murmured, grinding my already wet pussy against his hard thigh, leaving a slick trail.

He smirked, his dark eyes darkening to almost black with lust. “Sophia, I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name and forget every other man exists.”

He pinned me down with his weight, strong hands spreading my legs wide as he thrust his enormous cock deep into my dripping hole in one powerful, smooth stroke. I gasped loudly, my walls clenching desperately around his girth as he bottomed out, balls pressed tight against me.

He pounded me relentlessly, hips slamming against mine, the wet slapping sounds filling the room. “Your tight pussy feels incredible wrapped around my cock—take every inch, my wife,” he growled, sucking hard on my nipples while his fingers rubbed my swollen clit in perfect circles.

I came hard the first time within minutes, shuddering violently and squirting around his thick shaft. He didn’t stop. He flipped me over onto all fours, ramming into me from behind even deeper, one hand fisting my hair, the other slapping my ass, making me orgasm again and again. Waves of pleasure crashed through me until my vision blurred.

“Oh god, Damien—your huge cock is making me cum so much—harder, fuck me like you own me!” I begged shamelessly, pushing back against him.

He did exactly that. His stamina was endless. Between the rough, bruising thrusts he treated me with shocking care—kissing my neck tenderly, whispering filthy praise and soft endearments, stroking my back like I was precious.

He brought me to ecstasy five times that night, his perfect body dominating mine completely until I was utterly satisfied, exhausted, and blissfully limp as dawn broke over the city. He came deep inside me twice, flooding me with hot cum, then held me close, his arms like steel bands, murmuring, “You’re mine now, Sophia. I’ll protect you from everything—including your own family.”

Three months later, word came from the White family mansion that Isabella was pregnant. I was stunned when I heard. In decades of alliances, no outsider had conceived a legitimate heir so quickly. If I hadn’t seen her swollen belly myself at the mandatory family brunch, I wouldn’t have believed it.

The Blackwood family threw a massive, ostentatious celebration at their flagship hotel, inviting every major family, board members, and even a few foreign investors. The press was there in force. Stock prices for Blackwood spiked again.

“Looks like fortune favors the Blackwoods—an heir in just three months!” Alex held up his glass, looking smug as hell, arm around Isabella’s waist.

People swarmed to flatter him and her. Everyone figured the empire was now locked for Blackwood. It was prime time to suck up and position for future deals.

By status I should have been seated at the far end with Damien. But Isabella had Alex seat me right next to her at the head table. She wouldn’t miss a chance to rub it in my face.

She rubbed her belly ostentatiously, giving me a taunting look full of superiority. “Sister, three months and your belly is still flat as a board. Guess it’s because you’re not pure White family blood—even your womb is worthless for producing a real heir.”

I lifted my champagne glass, took a slow sip, and said calmly but loud enough for the nearby tables to hear, “Interesting. History’s shortest confirmed pregnancy in our circles was nearly a year. You did it in three months—whatever special tricks or… assistance you used, only you know. Congratulations.”

Isabella whipped her head around, staring at me, her eyes guilty and flickering with panic for the first time. The smile on her face cracked.

“Sophia, what the hell do you mean by that?” she hissed under her breath.

Just a little poke, and she was already panicking. Isabella had never been good at keeping her cool under pressure.

I raised my glass higher with a serene smile. “Here’s to a smooth delivery and a healthy child. May the board vote go exactly as you hope.”

I stood, found Damien, and left together while the whispers started behind us.

A month later, Isabella went into labor. It lasted three full days and nights of public agony. The Blackwood family tried to keep it quiet, but the news leaked. Seven days after the birth they still hadn’t shown the child publicly. Even Father was turned away when he tried to visit.

Something was definitely wrong.