Damian Desmond Novels & Stories

I did not understand how hard it was going to be for us to be able to cope with all of this at once. Damon’s voice still rang in my ears. Steady. Strong. But I could hear the ache under it, the grief that clung to each word. The fire he spoke with wasn’t just fury, it was heartbreak. It was the sound of a man who had been torn open and was trying to stitch himself back together in front of everyone. It sounded like a man who was doing his best not to show weakness because he needed everyone around him to stand strong. And despite his pain, despite his agony and anger, he stood.

It was war smelling the mate bond. I thought the bond was dead. “You smell like power now,” he growled. “Like storms and the moonlight. What really happened to you?” I stood tall, refusing to hide my body. “I survived. I was what you tried to kill.” Damon’s jaw dropped. For the first time, I felt pain appear right in his eyebrows. “I was wrong, Annie. Cassandra lied to me. I only allowed pride and fear to make me throw away the best thing in my life… my coming Luna.”

Me: (sent him all the pictures and videos of me on his clothes). Damien: I need sunglasses! You are glowing too much, my eyes might hurt. Me: You like them? Damien: Babe😍 you are hot🔥. Is that you shaking my butt? Me: 😂,I was playing around. Damien: I will like to see you shake them tonight. Me: I will think about it. Damien: I will help you think fast. Is that my Nike? Me: It is mine now! Damien: Silly! You look great in it.

She said. Maddy's brow creased, but she nodded. “Call me Damian.” I said as Maddy turned to leave. “We look forward to working with you, Damian.” She smiled before disappearing. “Missing your little fuck already?” She shook her head. “That’s sad.” Sipping her drink, she drummed her fingers against the glass. “The mighty Damian Russo has been reduced to chasing a little girl.” She added, clicking her teeth. “That little girl happens to have a hold on me. One you’d never relate to.”

Kyle tapped on the empty space on the chair. "Damian, you look tired. Are you sick?" Peter asked his friend. "No, no. I've just been preparing for a small project I should send to the university. I'm just afraid that I won't be accepted there." Damian answered. "What do you want to be?" asked Peter. "I want to be a fashion designer," Damian smiled shyly to his crush. "Wow, really?" Peter widened his eyes and kept staring at Damian for a long moment, making him slightly uncomfortable—but in a good way. "I can already see you signing a contract with one of the most famous brands."

The ray of sunlight shone on his face, and he squeezed his face, before opening his eyes, then he rolled himself on the bed, before getting up. He was just waking up from sleep, but it didn’t look like he just woke up, because his handsomeness was something anyone will write home about. His name is Damian Walter, he is just twenty-six years old and yet he was already a billionaire of his own. He has a sugar company and it’s growing abundantly.

“My readers keep saying my scenes feel fake, which you've seen. If I don’t fix that, subscriptions will drop. And if my mom ever finds out what I’ve been writing…” Daisy reached over and squeezed my arm. “Hey, we’ve got your back. But Damian Prescott? That guy doesn’t do favors for free. What’s his angle?” Before I could answer, the café door opened again. Damian walked in with three of his soccer teammates, all tall, loud, and radiating that effortless confidence only athletes seemed to have. His dark hair was still damp from a shower, and he wore a simple black hoodie that somehow looked expensive on him. Our eyes met across the room.

It must have cost hundreds of millions of dollars. “Excuse me?” He walked into the locker room and I refused to walk backwards. No man was going to intimidate me—especially one I didn’t know. “You should quit and look for another job. There is no place for a whore like you here.” Suddenly, Derek appeared behind him. It started to make sense. One of them was feeding the other with malicious information about me. The reason was still unknown. “Do I know you?” I asked. He stepped closer, into my personal space to intimidate me but I refused to cower in fear. I may have been broke but I wasn’t a coward.

“You’ve been carrying your own pain in silence since your sire. Talk to us.” Damien stared at the opposite wall for a long moment, crimson eyes distant. The elegant, cold vampire rarely showed vulnerability. But after watching Kael shatter and Serena burn her mother-figure twice, something inside him cracked. “I wasn’t always like this,” he said quietly. Damien’s Story “I was turned in 1897. London. I was twenty-four, the youngest son of a powerful aristocratic family. My father wanted me to join the military. My mother wanted me in politics. I wanted neither. I wanted freedom.”

He says in an awfully sweet tone, making me shoot him one of my deadliest glares which just made him laugh more. “Hi Danika, I am Detective Samuel. So I need to ask you guys a line of questions which led to the incident yesterday and maybe some questions about the note? Does that sound good?” The detective sitting in front of me asked me after sharing a little laugh with Jake about how he brought me in like a sack of potatoes. “Are you Jake’s friend? Because then I’d like to request another detective as from experience I’ve learnt that Jake’s friends are jerks like him.” I say rudely, making him laugh.