Chapter Eight

(Lena's POV)

I couldn't forget the feeling of Damien's fingers inside of me and how hard he had been. Because of me, it gave me a strange kind of pride that I could do that to him.

I searched through the clothes, expecting to see revealing clothes, but on the contrary, they were mostly modest. Maybe he didn't want others to see any part of my body; that was a good thing. At least for now, I wouldn't have to worry about being shared with other of his pack men.

I picked up a light blue dress and put it on. I passed a brush through my straight blonde hair.

By the time I returned back to our room, he was out of the bathroom, his thick black hair dripping water and a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked like a Greek god, and I wanted to run my hands down his abs.

He caught me staring, and I looked away, a blush forming on my cheeks.

He stared down at the dress I had picked, and I fidgetted under his gaze, but then he looked away, no compliments.

I didn't know if it was the right time