Damon Salvatore Pictures Novels & Stories

Although, he didn't seem to mind it at all. "Thank you. You look handsome." I said honestly, a grin on my face. Dominic always looked neat but that particular night, he looked a little bit different. A good different. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, tailored for his large body. The tattoos trailed down from his neck down to his hands and onto his fingers. At first glance, one would know not to fuck with him. He looked ravishing and despite telling myself it wouldn't happen again, I knew it would because I wanted it to.

They aren't even back in their seats before they start kissing again. Hatred mixed with pain scorches through me and the urge for revenge pushes me to do the most ridiculous thing ever. I look around, searching, and there's a really hot guy smoking by a corner. He's Damon-Salvatore-hot, in a tight black tee that clings to his muscular body. He even has an arm and a neck tat and ear piercing. Oh, he's perfect! I stomp over, pluck the cigarette from his fingers, and blurt, "I'm sorry, but can you hold your breath for a second?"

He had a frown on his face, and she wondered what he was thinking about. "Take a picture, darling, it last longer. But then again, I doubt you'll need one as you'll be seeing me each day." Damien leaned into her and whispered. "Whoever said I was staring at you? And why would you think I need a picture of you?" she rolled her eyes. "I know I am the best-looking werewolf out here, and you know the most powerful, so it only makes sense if you see me as an imaginary extraordinary creature," Damien said, glancing at her briefly with a smirk adorning his face before looking elsewhere.

Damon left the room and came back with a tray of food in his hand, making my stomach growl and reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything. “Thank you,” I said as he laid the table and began dishing the food. We were having bolognese spaghetti and sauced chicken, which happened to be my favorite dish, and I couldn’t just wait to munch on it. He handed me a plate and a glass of juice like a gentleman before going ahead to dish out some for himself. We sat there in silence as I dug into my food with relish. I noticed Damon kept stealing glances at me from time to time as we ate, but I was too busy trying to get my stomach filled to pay attention to him.

For one suspended, unbearable second, no one moved. Then the driver’s door opened. A figure stepped out into the rain. Tall. Lean. Silhouetted by the headlights. Damon’s stomach dropped. Because even through the storm and the distance He recognized him. Viktor. Alive. And not alone. Th e rear passenger door of the SUV opened slowly. Another figure stepped out. Calm. Elegant. Shoulders straight despite the blood and soot. Damon’s breath turned to ice. Matteo Laurent.

For a moment, the silence pressed on my chest, and I looked around for a way out of this place. Then I heard him. Alpha Dominic Salvatore, standing by the window, his back to me. The moonlight caught the edges of his frame, broad shoulders, tense posture, veins flexing down his arms. “You should have knelt,” he said, voice sharp as the blade at his hip. “Even the idea of you speaking back the way you did should have gotten you killed.” “Then why didn’t it?” I asked, testing him. “I wouldn’t have minded. I would have been free of all this.”

“I’m fine, my girl. Go and finish this. Damon helped me carry Scarlett to a magic Doctor's inn. “Emergency…!” “Be calm,” the Doctor assured us. “She will be fine. What is the issue “She got attacked by a wolf with enemy blood.” “Okay…” Very quickly, Scarlett felt safe again and was resting. Then Damon pulled me away from everyone. He led me straight to his private quarters in the Alpha house. As soon as the door was shut, the aura changed. Damon pushed me towards the wall, his body hard against mine. “Watching you fight that way… really drove me crazy,” he growled. He pasted his lips on mine. The kiss was wild and it showed how craving he was for s*x.

"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.

Damon pauses for a bit and what seems to be a smile appears on his face. Raven didn’t know how to reply to what Damon had asked her so she kept quiet. “I have a proposal for you,” Damon adds “I don’t do married man,” Raven quickly says Damon looks at Raven with a smirk on his face. “I’m not married,” he says. Raven didn’t know she was holding her breath when she heaved a heavy sigh. A part of her was relieved that the good-looking man beside her was not married but that did not mean he was single.

The door opens. Ethan first. My boyfriend. My anchor. He walks in and his eyes find mine and he smiles – steady, warm, I've got you – and the panic in my chest dissolves. Behind him: four men. Damon – tall, Black, built like an athlete, with a jaw that could cut steel. His eyes are dark and calm and he looks at me the way a man looks at something he's been given permission to devour. Nico – shorter, stocky, Italian heritage evident in his olive skin and dark curls. Thick arms. Thick hands. A cocky grin that says he knows exactly what he's good at.