Chapter 9: Choked by Devotion

Words : 1314 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 9 - Choked by Devotion –Livana– I don't remember much of what happened. Once again, I made sure to drink enough so I could go along with whatever he wanted. It's just a simple repayment—for what he did. He had people clean up my house. I want to see it, at least in my own way. I turned onto my side and reached out, feeling around for my walking stick. It's probably on the bedside table. "Where are you off to?" His deep baritone cut through the quiet. I gasped as he suddenly pulled me against him, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, his body pressing into mine. His lips brushed against my neck, then my shoulder, in a trail of warm kisses. I could hear the grin in his voice. "The rings look good on you." I stopped struggling and let him have his way for the moment. My fingers found the rings. I hadn't even noticed he put them on. Damon had just... slid them onto my hand. One was heavy with a prominent stone, the other a wedding band set with small gems. The mattress shifted as he moved, pushing the sheets aside. He lifted me—carried me, I assume, to the bathroom. Gently, he lowered me down, guiding my hand to the toilet seat and the soft cushion around it. "I had everything in here minimized," he said casually. "The bidet?" I asked. He guided my hand to the side of the toilet. "It's a smart one. You can press the buttons here—whatever you need." "Robe, please." I was already feeling too exposed. I might be blind, but I still felt the cold air on my skin. "Oh, come on. I've seen it all—many times. I enjoy watching you bare." "If I could see, Damon, I swear I'd fucking kill you." He laughed, low and amused. Moments later, I felt a robe draped around my shoulders. I slipped my arms into the sleeves with a sigh of relief. "Just call me when you're done. I'll wait outside and leave the door open a bit." "Just close it," I snapped. I heard the door shut gently. I sighed again, shaking my head. Finally—some alone time. I turned my attention to the smart toilet they installed. My fingers brushed over small braille stickers on the controls. Well... this is actually kind of exciting. After relieving myself, I thought I'd finally feel human again. But the moment I stood, the toilet flushed on its own—startling enough—and then, the door creaked open. "What the fuck?!" "Sorry," Damon said, clearly grinning. I could feel it in the air. "I heard the toilet flush. Thought you were done." I wanted to punch that grin right off his face. "Let's shower. Then I'll slather you in sunscreen like a good husband." I froze as he peeled the robe off me without even asking, then picked me up like I was a feather or a mildly annoying pet. I'm really starting to regret marrying this bastard. He carried me into what I guessed was the shower—it had that weird fake grass carpet underfoot. He tied my hair up like I was some delicate porcelain doll and turned on the water. I nearly leapt out of my skin at the freezing temperature, but he adjusted it to warm after his usual laugh. This. Is. Suffocating. The shower wasn't relaxing in the slightest. Damon treated me like I was incapable of moving a finger. Afterward, he insisted on drying me off, then went wild with what I think was lotion—or maybe sunscreen—or both? Whatever it was, I swear he applied it in layers thick enough to survive a trip to the sun. I sat there, arms crossed, enduring it all like some creepy porcelain doll in a haunted mansion. He brushed my hair. Patted my face. Adjusted my posture like I was an art project. I was doing everything in my power not to punch him or scream. His care is suffocating. "All right, you're set up!" he announced proudly, plopping a pair of sunglasses onto my face. "For protection." "Are you even dressed?" I asked, narrowing my eyes behind the lenses. I'd bet money he wasn't. "I'm fully naked. If you could see me right now, you'd fall in love all over again." He took my hand and placed it on his abdomen—smooth, hard, and completely unwanted. I yanked my hand back like I'd just touched hot tar. "Why do you look disgusted? From what I remember, you were crying out my name." "I wouldn't be calling out your name during... marital acts if I wasn't drunk," I said coldly. He laughed, clearly entertained, while I wasn't even trying to be funny. "Babe, drunk people tell the truth," he teased. "I'll just put something on—wait here." Like I had a choice. I didn't even know where I was. I couldn't get down the stairs on my own. He didn't take long. Soon enough, he scooped me up again and carried me down what I assumed were stairs. Then my foot sank into something soft and grainy. Sand. "Good morning, lovebirds!" Damien's voice boomed. "Laura's still on the phone with your dad and dying from a hangover. You two drink like it's the Olympics." "Yeah, I have to drink to survive," I muttered. "Do you really hate making love with me that much when you're sober?" Damon asked dramatically, lowering me into a chair. His fingers gathered my hair, brushing against the back of my neck in that slow, deliberate way that made me almost gasp. I didn't. I held it in. He was fishing for a reaction and I wasn't giving him the satisfaction. "Oh, hi!" Laura chimed in brightly. She kissed my cheek. "I'll clean up your eyes later." "I already did," Damon said. "I'm taking care of her from now on." "Wow, okay!" Laura giggled. "Don't get too possessive, Damon. I am her sister." "So the noise from last night was coming from the master bedroom?" Kai's voice came from somewhere nearby, followed by the sound of someone shifting in a chair and sand crunching underfoot. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Damien deflected quickly. "Was it you, Laura? Playing with your toys again?" SMACK. Oof. Laura definitely hit him. Damien went quiet after that. "So, how's the honeymoon?" Laura asked, clearly directing it at me. "I don't remember much," I replied flatly. "Maybe I should start recording everything so when you get your sight back, you can watch it." "Or maybe you want to die young? I'm looking forward to being a widow." Damon's hand squeezed my thigh in response. My knee jerked involuntarily. "Babe," he said with that infuriating tone, "you know you can't kill me. Not yet." I scoffed and shook my head. "What's for breakfast?" I asked, trying to change the subject and find some semblance of normalcy. "You can have me for breakfast," Damon said, still not removing his hand from my thigh. I clenched my jaw. I was this close to flipping the table—even if I couldn't see it. "I lost my appetite." I started to stand, but he gently pushed me back down. "Damon, please," Laura sighed, clearly exasperated. "I have the worst hangover, and I don't remember much of last night either. Can you stop being so extra and give my sister some space?" Finally. Someone gets it. But the man next to me? Still hopeless. I don't want anyone controlling me. Especially not a smug, shirtless bastard with a thing for treating me like a half-dressed Barbie.

Chapter 9: Choked by Devotion

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