Damon POV:
After I stepped out of the shower, I was hit with a pleasant surprise—the scent of my mate’s arousal lingering in the air, thick and potent. And damn, if that didn’t stir sothing primal in . Was she still stuck thinking about walking into the room naked earlier? Hell, if that’s all it takes to get her this worked up, I should make a habit of walking around without a damn stitch on.
I glanced at her, and yep—she was definitely aroused. If her scent wasn’t a clear enough giveaway, then the way her eyes widened and flickered over my towel-clad body sure as hell was. Her face flushed with heat, her lips parted just slightly, her breathing shallow.
"I can sll your arousal, little mate," I said with a smirk tugging at my lips. "Didn’t think you were so naughty... getting all hot and bothered just from the sight of my cock."
I started toward her, slow and deliberate, each step making her eyes grow rounder. She looked stunned, caught sowhere between flustered and frozen.
"St—stop," she stamred, inching herself to the far side of the bed, but I wasn’t listening.
"Why run?" I drawled, voice like a dark promise. "When just the image of is enough to make you wet?"
Her body told the truth. She was shivering, breath catching, her pupils blown wide. She could try to deny it, but her body was already mine.
She shifted farther away, so I reached for her ankle, fingers curling around the delicate joint, and dragged her toward with one smooth pull. The bond sang between us, mate tingles sparking at every point of contact. Her body shuddered again, and the scent of her arousal intensified, driving half-mad with need.
I pulled her right to the edge of the bed, her thighs parted on either side of as I stood between her legs. Her nightgown—thin, nearly sheer—left nothing to the imagination. Her nipples were stiff peaks under the fabric, her breasts full and heavy. And those lacy black panties? Fuck, she looked like sin gift-wrapped.
"Gods, love... you really are wet for ," I said, chuckling darkly as I inhaled another hit of her scent.
I was losing the last thread of control. The way her nipples strained beneath her gown made my mouth water—I wanted to taste them, to roll them on my tongue, to hear her gasp and moan as I suckled her.
"No, I’m not!" she blurted out in a rush, clearly panicking.
Stubborn. Even now, when her body scread for .
"Should I prove you wrong?" I teased, arching a brow, voice thick with intent as I dragged a finger slowly along her thigh, inching toward the soaked lace covering her pussy.
She trembled again, but before I could reach her center, she burst out, "It’s not because of you!"
I froze, brow furrowing. "What?"
"It’s... it’s the book I was reading that made —" She cut herself off, clearly regretting the admission.
A book? That’s what had her this worked up?
I followed her gaze to the pillow and spotted it. Intrigued, I leaned forward to grab it, but she launched herself at in a flurry of panic. I hadn’t expected it, and the impact knocked off balance. I stumbled backward, and we both fell.
My towel ca loose in the process.
Not that I minded. Not one damn bit.
She landed sprawled across —her thighs straddling my waist, her core pressed right against my now hard cock, her face hovering just above mine. Her breasts brushed my chest, and her hands gripped my shoulders. My hands, instinctively, had landed squarely on her ass. Full. Round. Perfect.
The friction between us, the heat of her sex on my cock—even through the fabric—was enough to make groan low in my throat. And then she moaned. That sound. Fuck. It undid .
I lifted my head, caught her lips in mine, and kissed her like a starved man. My fingers dug into the softness of her ass, rocking her against . She gasped, and I took the opening, sliding my tongue into her mouth, tasting her fully.
She started to pull back, to sit up, but I wasn’t done—not even close.
I flipped us, pressing her down into the bed, my hips nestled between her legs. Her nightgown had ridden up, and her soaked panties rubbed perfectly against my length. I ground into her, slow and deep, kissing her senseless. Dry humping he like I would if I was inside her.
Gods, this was better than anything I’d imagined. And the best part? She wasn’t imagining soone else. This ti, she knew exactly who was making her feel this good—Damon. Not Kane. Not Dean. Just . Her real mate.
I kissed her deeper, losing myself in her lips, then trailed down to her neck. My hand slipped between us, cupping one perfect breast, teasing the nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She moaned loudly, and I swallowed the sound with another kiss.
Then I moved my hand lower, trailing it over her trembling belly, down to the drenched lace. I pushed the fabric aside, desperate to feel her bare skin. My cock throbbed against her, eager to slide inside her slick heat.
I rubbed the head along her folds, soaking in her juices without entering. Her breath hitched. Her hips moved, seeking more friction, grinding herself against .
And then—knock knock.
I froze. What the hell?
Who was the dumb bastard knocking on my damn door at a ti like this?
I ignored it.
So did she, or maybe she hadn’t even heard it—too far gone. She rocked her hips again, panting softly, as I slid against her slit, teasing her entrance.
Then—knock knock. Louder. More insistent.
Elena jerked slightly, pulling back to look toward the door.
I growled low, my jaw tight with frustration. Whoever that was... they were seconds away from dying.
Because I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
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