Damon Salvatore Eye Novels & Stories

I certainly didn’t, until I met the elusive and reclusive Damien Silverburn. Immediately upon meeting him, I noticed his eyes, the color of fire flickering against the night sky. Any time I had seen him online, his eyes had been brown. One of my jobs, I soon learned, would be to make sure there was a copious and constant supply of brown contact lenses to cover the red. Humans didn’t respond well to red eyes, but the composition of wolf person eyes dissolved the lenses quickly. It was important that there was always more than enough in stock.

*** Damon’s POV “Take your clothes off.” My tone was gruff, probably from raging need, and my eyes burned as they raked over the body of the Russian brunette that stood before me. No doubt, she was beautiful. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, why did I keep seeing the face of my little petal each time I closed my eyes? Now my eyes were open, and roaming over the beautiful body of this Russian goddess. But…I still saw her. My little petal. Iris.

“I'll rip your tongue out, son of a bitch.” Katie growled, but he only reacted by pressing his body even harder against her, which only fueled her need. Her own body was betraying her. “Who the hell are you?” he growled, his voice piercing her skin, giving her goosebumps. He was so close to her that she stared right into her silvery eyes, which were swirling with power; this wasn't normal, even for werewolves; eyes weren't meant to do that.

She responded, taking his hands to her entire boobs as he massaged the hell out of her. She was already going crazy. She turned over to him, staring straight into his eyes. They looked dark and sinful, exactly the way she liked them. "I love your eyes." She whispered to him. "No one has ever possessed such lovely eyes as yours." She complimented. "Not even Salvatore?" He asked. "The Aura in you makes a better demon than his." She teased as he gave off a short laugh. Without saying anything further she smashed her lips into his, kissing him so passionately.

Damon saw us first. I watched the exact second the cold, calculated executive mask slipped completely off Damon’s face. His dark eyes locked onto Vincenzo’s hand on my waist, and his expression transformed into something horrifying, a look of pure, unadulterated savagery. There was no PR strategy left in his posture. No stock market play. Just a predator realizing someone had laid a hand on what belonged to him.

He said, stroking my hair with his hand. Oh my goodness, is he calling me Vic? We shared eye contact. The butterflies started flying in my stomach as I found him. He was staring at me with his devilish smile. I felt awkward when I felt someone's burning eyes on my back. I rolled my eyes outside through the window. It’s Damon, who is staring at us with his burning eyes in a rage.

I inquired, wanting to hear about his experiences. Damon's gaze lingered on me for an extended moment. "What?" I asked, curious about his prolonged stare. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?" He inquired, his unwavering gaze fixed on mine. Damon possessed striking white hair and captivating green eyes. His imposing stature and well-defined muscles made quite an impression. My cheeks flushed as our eyes locked, and I nervously took a sip of my drink. "Yes," I replied with a smile.

"I still believe you haven't murdered your wife, but I can't even ignore Damon's confession. I'll talk to you about it. " She turns her eyes back to Liam. On the other hand, Liam also looks at Samantha while giving her an evil smile. "You Liam Salvatore, I won't leave you. After all, you've misbehaved with me. " "I’m leaving you tonight, but tomorrow I’ll teach you a lesson." Next morning. Damon comes out of the room after being freshened up. His feet automatically stop as his eyes find Liam in front of him. Damon also never gets confused between Liam and Aaron. The main difference between them is their eye colour, and second, there is a dragon tattoo on Liam's arm.

He didn't even allow me to return to my condo. It's only the two of us, but it will be soon that Salvatore comes ringing the doorbells. Damon is true to his words when he says he will let this guy who ordered to kill Henry come over and dine with us. Perforation rigged into my large almond eyes as my gaze traveled down to my chest, to tiny scars above the swell of my breasts, and disappeared underneath my bra. The tip of my fingers unconsciously brushes over the small lump of a scar on my side. Mentally counting the stitches and cursing Burson’s soul to rot in hell.

"When you ask me that, I usually don't know what to say." "What's your full name?" "Damon Salvatore," He said with a smile. "Italian, huh," I nodded at him with a smile. I knew. He had the features. The trim figure, olive skin, dark hair, characteristic razor sharp jawline, aquiline nose and lastly, the natural charm and charisma. "I can see why," No wonder he had this pull. He exuded so much confidence. He didn't even have to act it. It was a part of him.