Chapter twelve- sexy hunger.

Zebulunia’s POV

The scent of herbs filled the kitchen, sharp and earthy as I crushed stems into the boiling pot. 

I was preparing Damon medicine for the night before he returns 

The room was really bright from the artificial bulbs, but outside, night was already creeping in. Damon hadn’t returned yet, and I was worried—a little.

My hands stayed busy, grinding and stirring, but my mind kept drifting back to last night—his quiet confession about his “heart.” The doctors couldn’t even name what was wrong with him. Medicine had reduced the pain, he said, but never enough and it does.

That revelation had disturbed me, gnawed at me. But I remembered the village days, remembered a cure I’d once made for similar pain. Maybe, just maybe, I could help him too.

That was why I had risked slipping out today, despite Damon’s order not to leave the gates and I should order the medicine online. 

I possibly can't do that, I had to see and feel everything I collect. So I used the map.

The herbs hissed in the pot as I smiled faintly to myself. But then the thought came—my life was a mess. Maybe all these risks weren’t even worth it.

That’s when I felt him.

A shadow falling over me from behind. His cologne immediately filled my nose.

Damon!

His strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me against his hard chest. My breath caught. And lower—God—his cock pressed firmly against the curve of my backside. A jolt of heat shot through me, my thighs clenching before I could even stop them.

My whole body betrayed me, humming as if it had been waiting for this moment without my permission.

The spoon nearly slipped from my hand, but Damon was careful enough to pull me back quickly, away from the cooker, his grip unyielding.

“My shirt really looks sexy on you,” he whispered into my ear, his voice rough silk, sending goosebumps scattering down my whole body.

I hated how my body reacted—relaxed, safe… and horribly, deliciously aroused.

I wore his shirt. Among the clothes that were ordered, I had forgotten to ask for pajamas, so after my shower I was left with no other choice but to wear his random shirt.

I opened my mouth to snap back, to give him a sharp word, but all I managed was a shaky breath when I felt his hand slowly sliding upward—over the oversized shirt of his that I wore. Nothing inside. Just the shirt. And panties.

My heartbeat increased, my skin prickling as if afraid of what was about to happen.

I should stop this!

Just then…

His palm grazed over the swell of my breast, rough fingers teasing until they brushed the stiff peak. My nipples!.

“Aww!” A little unexpected moan left my mouth, I gasped and prayed the ground would just open and swallow me. My whole body flinched, my nipples hardening instantly, straining against the thin shirt.

The only barrier between his palm and my breast was his shirt.

My whole face was on fire.

“Damon…” I whispered, unsure if it was a plea or a protest.

He didn’t answer. His thumb rolled over my nipple, slow, deliberate, sending fire racing straight to my core.

I almost lost my mind… This feeling was heavenly, and I had never felt this way before.

My hips shifted, desperate for relief, and the movement only ground me harder against his erection.

What was happening? Zebulunia, you aren’t going to fall for this, are you?

He groaned low in my ear, the sound sexy, needy and for some reason I liked it.

“Look at you,” he muttered in a low but cold tone against my skin, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “You pretend you don’t want this… but your body is screaming otherwise.”

My back arched into him before my mind caught up. My sharp tongue failed me. I had no words.

I turned in his grip, my back now pressed to the counter.

I stared directly into his blue eyes. I saw lust and hunger.

His shirt on me barely covered my thighs; it rose higher with every shift. His gaze dropped, dark and hungry, and I swore my knees almost buckled.

My breasts felt fuller, my nipples hardening against his chest. His hand lingered on my waist, the other squeezing the curve of my backside possessively.

“Damon, what… what are you doing?” I forced the words out, but my voice trembled. Unwantedly, my eyes fell to his tiny pink lips, and I immediately returned my gaze to his eyes as they burned into me.

He smirked, eyes locking onto mine. “Exactly what you want me to do.”

My breath hitched. His lips hovered over mine, so close my mouth parted on their own, wanting his lips on them—and I hated myself for that.

Why was my body reacting so much to his touch? Why couldn’t I control myself?

Then I could feel the thickness of him pressed against my clit, pulsing, making my whole body throb.

“Stop…” I whispered. But it sounded weak. Desperate. Like a lie.

His grip tightened, as though he could feel the battle inside me. The tension was suffocating, unbearable—until suddenly he pulled away.

The loss made me stumble, gasping at the sudden emptiness. The knife on the counter slipped.

“Ahh!” I hissed as pain stung my finger. Blood welled quickly.

Before I could reach for a towel, Damon caught my hand, his grip firm, eyes dark. Slowly, deliberately, he brought my finger to his mouth.

I froze as his tongue traced the wound, warm and wet, sending shivers down my spine. Then his lips closed around my finger, sucking gently, his eyes locked on mine.

My knees nearly gave out. And must confess this was another form of feeling…. 

The raw intimacy. The way he sucked my blood as though it tied me to him.

I couldn’t breathe properly.

The phone on the counter buzzed suddenly, loud and sharp. I flinched. Damon didn’t move, lips still wrapped around my finger,  eyes on mine. 

My eyes darted to the glowing screen.

Amber.

Why was she calling?.  A sudden anger enveloped me and I pulled my hands away from Damon's grip to answer the call.

The wound wasn't deep so it stopped bleeding already. 

“Do you have to answer it?” He asked suddenly after seeing the screen but I didn't listen to him.

I wanted to hear what she had to say.