Damian Wayne Novels & Stories

It was him – standing over me with a satisfied smirk, as if ruining my day was his birthright. Damian Hayes. Quarterback of Ridgewood High. Rich, hot, and cruel as hell. “Oops,” he drawled, tilting his head mockingly. His sharp jawline looked sculpted from stone, his messy brown hair falling perfectly over his dark green eyes. “Looks like someone’s too clumsy to even hold a tray.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Fuck you, Damian.” His smile widened into a wicked grin. He leaned down, so close his breath tickled my ear. “You wish, princess.”

He carried no laptop, no files, just himself. And somehow, that was enough. “Ms. Whitmore,” he greeted with a smooth nod. “Mr. Adams.” Ryan stiffened. “You know my name.” Damian smiled slightly. “I make it a habit to know the names of those who protect people I’m interested in.” Ryan’s eyes widened. “Interested? In what sense?” Damian looked at Aria. “In the business sense,” he said with a calm that didn’t fool anyone. Ryan reluctantly sat. Damian pulled out a chair opposite Aria and sat down. “I assume you’ve heard by now. I own Blackwood Holdings.”

Damian walked straight toward them. “Damian—wait!” Eli started to rise. Damian didn’t turn. “Eli. Trust me.” His voice carried through the corridor—deep, calm, and lethal. Eli froze. The drones opened fire. And Damian moved like a storm unleashed. He wasn’t evading the shots—not exactly. He anticipated them, weaving between the bursts of plasma, striking the drones with precision and violence. A swift kick shattered one; he spun and slammed another into the floor, crushing its metal shell under his boot. Sparks rained around him, lighting his silhouette in flashes of electric blue.

"I want to meet that person. Since you seem to know me, you must also know the man who has the same face as me." "Who the hell are you!" Damien hit Cedric on the head with the gun. "I'm Damien, I'm looking for the truth that was hidden from me." Cedric had no choice but to run the car as Damien ordered. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Canis and now he was in trouble again. ***** Diana had just returned from the kitchen and was about to go to Alpha Darren's office to meet him when she heard the sound of a car stopping. So she peeked through the window.

Reiner stepped back and bowed respectfully. "Boss." Crain strained his neck to look at the newcomer. Despite his battered state, he could tell from the way the guards treated him that this man was incredibly powerful. Damien walked over and squatted down in front of Crain, looking him dead in the eye with a calm, dangerous gaze. "And who the hell are you?" Crain demanded, his voice shaking. Damien looked right back at him with an icy stare. "I'm not a public figure, so you probably haven't heard of me. I'm Damien Blackwood. But some people call me the Living Yama."

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

"It's just that I feel like I don't know anything about you. I'm your friend, right? I don't even know what you did abroad. What your job is. You never talk to me about yourself." "Are you interested in me?" Damian asked. I knew he was just teasing me. And my sharp gaze made him understand. He chuckled and apologized. "Where to start? Um... Let's start our introduction from the beginning. My name is Damian Blackwood, I'm 29 years old. My job includes lyricist, composer, music producer. People know me more as Whitehollow than as Damian. You can type that name into a search engine and you'll find out more. Then... I came home for a vacation, but my grandfather gave me a task of making a demo s

“This cunt is mine. Say it, Elena. Call me Daddy while you leak all over my hand like a filthy girl.” She was so close, right on the edge again. He slowed once more, torturing her. “Fuck… Daddy,” she finally whispered, cheeks burning. Damon’s eyes flashed with pure hunger. “Louder.” “Daddy!” she cried out, grinding shamelessly on his fingers. “Please, Daddy, let me cum. I need it so bad.” “Good girl,” he praised, voice rough. He slammed his fingers harder, curling them perfectly. “That’s my dirty little assistant. Calling your boss Daddy while he fingers your sloppy cunt in front of the whole city.”

came the equally thunderous response from his audience. “Good! Now get your asses back to work!” He ordered. After they left, Baines turned to see one person had stayed behind. It was the dead cop's partner, Damian Wayde. Damian was tall with tanned skin that was a result of staying outdoors most of the time, and a barely receding hairline of curly hair that was one of the most remarkable things about him.

Tom turned around to show off. “Sexy!” Avery exclaimed. “And who's this cute guy?” Tom pointed at Damian. “Your boyfriend?” “What?” Avery widened her eyes. “No! He's my—” she stared at Damian, not sure about what to say. “My best friend?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “You don't look so sure.” “I'm Damian Foster,” Damian shook Tom's hand. “Thomas Peterson, but you can call me Tom.” the model smiled. “I hope he was good to you, Ave.”