Damon Salvatore Shirtless Novels & Stories

She scrunched her face, turned, and walked out, refusing to help. Soon, Damiano returned with two simple dishes—chicken tenders and a salad. “Even if you don’t want the baby, you still need to eat well. Your body is your best weapon for revenge. Eat. I’ll go change.” “Alright.” A few minutes later, Damiano came downstairs with his phone. He was still dressed in black, but now in a collarless short-sleeved linen shirt with loose trousers of the same fabric and color. The look was clean, casual, and unmistakably masculine.

David bowed down getting scared as he gulped his saliva and left the room. Damon sighed and got back to his work. He had black hairs and a perfect body with six abs and muscular chest. He was young with an extraordinaraly streamlined jawline. He was fair and his arms always showcase his nerves. he was charming and wherever he went, girls were always willing to spread legs for him.

Like a place made for quiet moments, not public ones. “He’s in here,” the maid said. “I’ll leave you.” The moment she was gone, I stepped forward. And stopped breathing. Damon stood at the counter. Black pants, perfectly pressed, bare chest, no shirt, no jacket. Just skin. My eyes betrayed me instantly. A tattoo covered the left side of his chest, sweeping across muscle and disappearing down his side. It wasn’t loud or chaotic. It was intentional. Lines and shadows that looked like they belonged there. His hands moved with ease as he cooked, veins visible, steady, confident.

But he was wrong. “Are you ready?” asked Damon. Wearing his khaki shorts and a polo shirt with three buttons haven’t inserted plus, with a black shade of Versace. Damon looked so damn fine. Keatton realized how lucky he was ended with the Adonis man. “You’re staring at me, baby, like you wanted to devour me? Can’t you get enough of me?” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, and Daddy prepared a heavy load for you, son. We’ll gape that pussy open with my big dick and fill your three holes with my cum. My seed will be all over you later,” said Damon.

Why is he shirtless? >Shirtless Salvy He turned his head and smiled at me. “Sorry my angioletto, I did not have a shirt on my gym bag.” My heart and my ovary jumped. I have this strong urge to run my fingers to his chest and abs again. “D-did I say that out loud?” I cover my mouth with my hands. He nods and chuckles, he gets back to cooking and I shamelessly stare at his body. His back has several scars and some of it looked like they came from deep wounds. Is his life always in danger? He looks strong but what if someone tried to kill him again like last time.

“Why… why are they… are they all… shirtless?” The green-eyed man, Damon, appeared calmly behind me, shaking his head like I was the problem, as if my squeaky, panicked, human existence were the real disaster. “Relax,” he said. “They are… normal for us. Well, mostly. You’ll get used to it.”

Standing at 6'3", Damon was the epitome of physical perfection, his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, every muscle sculpted as if by an artist's hand. Damon's hair was cropped close to his head, emphasizing the sharp lines of his features. The sun glinted off his skin, highlighting the definition of his muscles beneath the fitted t-shirt he wore, which clung to his chest and arms in a way that showcased his physique without being overly tight. His jeans were well-worn and fit him perfectly, completing the look of effortless cool.

A box of pizza and chocolates. ★ “I thought I told you not to follow me?" Damon spoke out but there was no one beside him in the large sitting room but then... “When have I ever listened to what you say, little brother?" A figure materialized in the open. It was Roshan. He was putting on a white long sleeve shirt that was free at the hands and the three up buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, revealing his well structured chest. His body below his waist were covered by a black leather, slim fit pants and a dark, long boot that made him look tough. He was looking great actually in his outfit.

Growing up, except for her mother, no one had ever taken care of her like this. After getting up and washing, Nyla obediently finished the medicine and soup. She decided to go to the adjacent room to properly thank Damon. She walked to the door of the adjacent room, took a deep breath, and was about to knock when the door suddenly opened from inside. Damon appeared at the doorway. His hair was slightly damp, obviously just showered. He wore a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking fresh and crisp. The shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and chest, emphasizing his athletic build. Water droplets still clung to his neck, and Nyla felt her face warm slightly.

The shift energy was still glowing at my fingertips. I felt like I could break the trees with my bare hands. A branch fell beside me. I turned around, my wolf claws already pushed out. Damon was at the other end of the woods. He wore only loose pants. His chest was bare, and his muscles were tight. His eyes glowed in the dark as they moved over my naked body. “You should not be here,” he said, his voice low and rough at first as he stared at me. But he did not order me back. Instead he stepped closer. His scent filled my nose. It was war smelling the mate bond.