Novel & Cerita Damon Tvd

that first night? The door opened. Damien Voss stepped in, towering at 6’5”, his silver-streaked dark hair tousled, muscular torso bare and scarred from centuries of battles. His amber eyes glowed with possessive hunger as they raked over her naked, marked body. His cock was already half-hard, thick and veined, the fat knot at the base beginning to swell in anticipation. “Morning, princess,” he growled, voice deep and commanding. “Today you give me your total surrender before I make you my wife in front of the pack. No more doubts. No more clinging to that pathetic old life. You were born to be Daddy’s little submissive mate.”

Where was Damon? What was he up to?

"Victoria has gone far beyond any point of return. Maya is all I have now. I will rip flesh from bones to get her back.” Damon gazes more at the ravine, his eyes keen, with resolve. “They're monitored from this spot," he mentions. I say nothing, I can't believe that at end he is still tied with me because of Maya.

Especially now that he's going through a lot personally. Damon is in a blue T-shirt, and black pants, staring into town, from one of his office's glass walls. The walls are designed in such a way, that from inside, one has a full view of whatever is outside, but staring from the outside, one only gets their reflection, glaring back. There's a knock on Damon's door, and he turns around to find Ava his assistant, walking in. She's in a black, knee-length, off shoulder, yet 3/4 sleeved dress. Which clings tightly to her beautiful curves.

**Chapter 71: Shattered Trust** The video played on loop in my mind even when I closed my eyes. A sleek hotel suite. Damien’s broad shoulders unmistakable in a tailored black shirt. A beautiful woman with long auburn hair laughing as she leaned into him, hand resting possessively on his chest. Then the bombshell—her tearful interview claiming she was carrying Damien Voss’s child too. The timestamp on the footage was from two weeks ago, right after I’d said yes to his proposal.

"T⁠he steel i⁠s down, the pe‌rimete​r is locked, and the cameras can’t see us anym⁠ore. You can finall‌y stop p⁠laying the part of t⁠he devote‌d, protec‍tive f‌iancé. You don't have​ to pretend yo⁠u c‌are about what happens to me when​ the audience i​sn't loo⁠king.​" Damien turne​d away from the se‍cure console, his tall f‌rame silhouet‌te‌d ag‌ainst the glowing b‍lue light o​f the monitor‍. H‌e slowly unbutto⁠ned his tuxedo vest, pul​lin‍g his silk ti‌e completely off with one hand and tossing it onto⁠ the leather sofa. He didn't look a​way from her. His o​bsidian e‍yes were co⁠m‍ple‌te‍ly unrea⁠da⁠ble, fi⁠xed on her with a pr⁠edator‍y stillness‌ t‍hat made th‌e hai‍rs‌ on t⁠he⁠ back of he

A sleek, armored black SUV pulled up to the curb, its tinted windows rolling down with a smooth, mechanical hiss. Damon. He sat in the plush leather interior, completely dry, a cigarette resting between his lips. He looked out at my pathetic, rain-drenched form, his gaze raking over the ridiculous pink tulle and the mud staining my knees. A slow, dark smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He didn't look pitying. He looked amused.

Damon replied. TBC

He said and Thamer slowly put Damon's heart inside the wooden box. I felt relieved from all the bad things that happened to us. From the first day of school where I met Professor Damon Salvatore, who was an Incubus demon vampire. Then I soon realized that he was the one who always visited me at night in my dream. And when I found out that my so so-called mate Tore who always appeared in my dreams when I was a child, was the demon father of Thamer, the guy whose dark eyes look captivated and his dimples, so cute when he smiled at me. He was my crush until we both fell in love with each other.

I froze, dildo still deep inside me, clit throbbing. “Fuck,” I hissed. I pulled the toy out and whimpered at the emptiness, wiped it on the sheet, shoved it under the pillow. Threw on a thin sundress, no bra, no panties, why bother when I was just going to finish after whoever it was left?. My nipples were hard points against the fabric. My thighs were slick. I ran downstairs on shaky legs. Opened the door. Damon. 6’4”, dark T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest, jeans hugging thick thighs, tool bag slung over one shoulder. Same dangerous smile. Same dark eyes that had watched me come apart on his cock two years ago.