Damon Salvatore Pictures Novels & Stories

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.

DAMIEN I had noticed her the moment she was dragged into the throne room. Even in chains, the daughter of a criminal, Rosalia Muller commanded attention—not with the practiced grace of our court ladies, but with something far more intriguing. Her dark red hair caught the light filtering through the stained glass, creating a halo of crimson around her face. There was a wild beauty in her desperation, in the way she held herself despite everything crumbling around her.

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.

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.

I gulped down into nothing, and froze on the spot as he ordered with a cold and angry voice. "Try what? What's up with the attitude, Damon?"I asked, almost yelling at him. "Don't ever raise your voice at me again,"he sneered, and I swallowed hard. "I'm going to save your time,"he said as he brought out the stick of a cigarette away from his mouth, dropped it on the floor, and stepped on it. "What's this?"I asked with a confused look as he threw some photos at me. I gasped out in shock as I stared at the image in the photo. I trembled in fear as I stared at the naked image of me and a handsome young man, the same one that I'd met in the clubhouse.