Damon Salvatore Shirtless Novels & Stories

I turned to see who it was and my eyes came in contact with Davion who was shirtless with his abs popping out everywhere. Oh shit!

The minute I walked out of the bathroom, I came face to face with Salvatore and sucked in my breath sharply. He was still dressed in his outfit from earlier, black trousers, a blue long sleeve that he had folded up to his elbow, exposing his firm muscles. I caught him staring at me and I flushed as I wondered what to do, I was wrapped in only a towel. I waited for him to speak, and he did. I was so shocked to hear his words. How he found out was the next question that popped up in my head. It's just a few hours and… Did Enzo tell on us? I wondered, but his next question caused me to stand there with wide eyes.

Damon stood by the glass, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking dangerous and hungry. “Close the door,” he ordered. She did. “Damon, about last night—” He moved fast. In two strides he had her pinned against the cool glass, her back to the city. His big hand yanked her skirt up roughly around her waist. “Shut up,” he growled. “I’ve been hard all day thinking about this dripping cunt.” Before she could argue, he dropped to his knees right there in his expensive suit. His strong hands ripped her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

he whispers. "Yeah, for now. I'll tell you later." I mumble an answer, a smile on my face at his concern, "Remove your shirt now." "Nah, I want to keep on-" "Or I am going to rip it off for you." Damian raises his hands in defense before unbuttoning his shirt in front of me. One of my hands tightly clench the duvet under me, staring at how inch by inch his body gets revealed, showing the deep curves of his defined abs, his hairless chest and- oh god-

She asked, as she ran her eyes over him, he was dressed in a white shirt and plain black trouser, the shirt had three buttons undone which exposed his built chest, his hair was disheveled and he reeked of alcohol. "Have you been drinking?" She asked in a surprised voice staring at his state, Damien didn't reply, instead he ran his hands in between her thighs trying to widen her legs. "What are you doing?" She yelled, shutting her thighs. Damien looked at her with lustful eyes, his eyes raking through her body.

Little did she know, I was walking straight into the home of my older sister’s boyfriend and professor. *********** I stood outside the familiar front door, letting out a long, shaky breath before giving a single, tentative knock. Before my knuckles could even drop away, the door swung wide open. Mr. Damon stood right there in the threshold, dressed down in a tight white singlet and soft gray sweatpants. His massive chest was heaving slightly, the dark mat of chest hair visible through the cotton, and his carved, chiseled abs pressed firmly beneath the tight fabric. “Hi, sir,” I breathed.

I am wearing a purple long-sleeve glitter backlesss dress and paired it with my pump heeled sandals. Meanwhile, Damon is wearing a long pants and a white collared shirt which perfectly hugs his masculine body. He also wears his personalized dog tag with our names engraved on it. Damon is hot as hell right now. His aura is different from being a strict and intimidating CEO. Coz right now, he looks like just a normal person going to a club with his girlfriend.

“I wonder if you’ve improved at all.” “Enough talk,” Damon replied, already reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. His torso was lean but muscular, marked with a few scars from previous battles. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times over the years, but it was still an impressive sight. Not to be outdone, Andrei removed his shirt as well, letting it drop to the ground at his feet. My mouth went dry as, unbidden, thoughts of seeing him completely nude with his cock inside of me just days ago flitted through my mind.

He stated, shaking his head and offering a faint smile. “How? You barely get any sleep.” I slightly frowned. “I get the amount of sleep I need.” “No, you don’t. Now, take your off shirt and get in.” I ordered him. Damiano looked at me with a raised brow. “And why do I need my shirt off?” “Because I’m addicted to seeing you shirtless. Hurry, I don’t have all day.” I said impatiently. “You’re getting a little too comfortable bossing me around.” He clicked his tongue, but still took off his shirt, leaving him in the delicious glory of his six-pack and tattoos.

“I’ll look like the designated driver or some divorced mom trying to relive her glory days.” Damon didn’t budge. Didn’t blink. He was still standing shirtless in the middle of the living room, the soft amber of the whiskey in his hand catching the light, highlighting the sweat on his abs and the sharp lines carved into his inked chest. His cock was still half-hard, outlined thick and heavy beneath his sweatpants, a silent, pulsing threat that hadn’t gone away since the moment he’d tasted me. He looked at her like she was a mild inconvenience.