~Damon~
She was standing by the wall exactly where I had left her. Her body was motionless, but her chest was rising and falling fast. Her skin was flushed. Her eyes were huge, dilated, locked on me like I was a god she didn’t know whether to kneel for or run from.
She had watched everything.
And she wasn’t afraid.
She was panting.
She was trembling.
Her thighs were pressed together, and her scent was pouring through the hallway like a wave of heat-drenched sugar and slick.
I walked toward her, my boots leaving bloody prints across the tile, my chest still rising and falling with adrenaline. I didn’t blink. I didn’t rush.
When I stopped in front of her, I was close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body.
She looked up at me like she was on the verge of falling apart.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
I reached out with my bloodied hand and cupped her cheek.
“I told you to close your eyes,” I said softly. “I didn’t want you to see that.”
She nodded once, swallowing hard. “I couldn’t look away.”
I brushed my thumb along the side of her mouth.
“I just mutilated a man.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still standing here.”
“I can’t move.”
“Why?”
Her voice broke.
“Because I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now.”noveldrama
The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in.
I leaned in, pressed my forehead to hers, and whispered against her lips.
“You just watched me destroy someone for touching you.”
The words left my mouth slowly, deliberately, like I wanted her to feel every syllable. I didn’t whisper them. I didn’t growl. I said them like a statement of fact. Because it was. Because that’s exactly what I had done-and she had watched all of it.
I was still standing inches from her, my chest rising and falling, the blood on my knuckles drying into a tight crust across my skin. My boots were soaked from where I had knelt in his blood, and my zipper was still down, my cock heavy behind it, still swollen from rage and the way her scent had exploded into the hallway like smoke and wildfire.
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her lips were parted, her throat visibly tight as she swallowed, and her chest was lifting in short, shallow bursts. Her entire body was trembling-not from fear, not from disgust-but from something far more dangerous.
Desire.
She looked at me like I was the monster that made her wet.
I stepped closer and tilted my head slightly, watching the way her eyes flicked to my mouth, then down to the red smears on my hands.
I reached up slowly, pressed my thumb against her cheek, and dragged a line of blood across her skin-not hard, not rough, just enough to mark her with it.
“Did it turn you on, kitten?” I asked her calmly. My voice was low and steady, but every word throbbed with heat. “Be honest with me. Did watching me mutilate him make your thighs clench? Did it make your heart race? Did it make you wish you were closer while I did it?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
I smirked and leaned in closer, just enough for my nose to graze her ear, just enough for my breath to tickle her skin.
“I think it did,” I whispered. “I think you were standing there with your back pressed to the wall, watching me pin him down, listening to the sounds of his cock splitting under my claws, and your pussy was throbbing for me.”
She let out the smallest gasp, and my cock kicked behind my zipper in response.
I didn’t stop.
“I think you got wet when I told him to crawl. I think you liked seeing me hold his life in one hand and his manhood in the other. I think it made you ache when you realized I wasn’t doing it out of rage-I was doing it because you were mine.”
Still, she didn’t speak.
She just breathed harder.
Her scent was growing thicker now, sweeter, coating the air in something warm and primal. Her legs shifted like she was trying to squeeze them together without me noticing.
Too late.
I slid both hands down to her hips and gripped them firmly.
“You should be horrified right now,” I said, pulling her closer. “You should be pushing me away. But you’re not. You’re standing here like you want more. You’re panting like I didn’t just torture a man-I fed something inside you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
I leaned in again, this time brushing my lips across the side of her neck, not kissing, just letting her feel the heat.
“Tell me, kitten. Were you wet while you watched? Were you breathing through your mouth because your panties were soaked, and you were scared I’d smell it?”
“Damon,” she whispered.
“That’s not an answer,” I said. “Say the words. You watched me rip a man apart, and now you’re standing in front of me looking like you want me to do the same to you.”
Her hands grabbed the front of my shirt, and her fingers curled into the fabric.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice was trembling. “Yes, I was wet. Yes, I was shaking because I wanted you.”
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