Page 65 of Shadow Hunter

She placed a finger over her lips and hushed him. “Shh. No protests.” She placed her lips on him, and it was his turn to buck beneath her mouth. “I want to make you come,” she whispered.

Damon groanedas Tiffany’s lips wrapped around him, the warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloping him despite his considerable size. She slid her lips up and down the length of him, her hands working in tandem with her sweet, sweet mouth. When she finally released him, he was so close to finishing that the delay was pure torture.

She straddled his hips, rubbing her soft flesh against him. He ran his hands over her porcelain skin from her breasts to her narrow waist, all the way down to the delicious expanse of her hips. A low feral growl grumbled deep in his throat. One single curl fell into her face, highlighting her gorgeous smile. She looked so good it hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside of you.”

She flashed him a coy smile, nodding as she bit her lower lip. That was all the answer he needed. He spread her legs to reveal her sweet pink center, then wasted no time. He filled her, and she threw back her head and cried out.

She rocked her hips against him as he continued to pummel into her.

A shiver shuddered through his body as he neared his finish.

Tiffany ran her hands over his arms, her honey amber eyes locking with his. She was barely able to speak through her labored panting. Her chest heaved in and out, and she moaned as she neared her own peak. But a mischievous grin crossed her lips as she mimicked his words.

“Come for me, Damon.” The sound of her whisper drove him wild.

In one final thrust, he emptied himself into her.

They both cried out; ecstasy the likes of which Damon had never felt tearing through him. Moments later, she collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled the coverlet over him. Elation filled him as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. She was his, well and truly his. They didn’t need words to say it.

Gently, he kissed her forehead before he buried his nose in her hair. They lay there in silence as the energy subsided, enjoying one another’s closeness for a long. His heart thumped hard against his chest. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came as she relaxed into sleep.

If he’d told her then that he loved her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her in his arms, he wouldn’t have been lying...

14

If bones could talk, Tiffany’s would have groaned and said, ‘That. Was Amazing.’

She stretched and twisted herself out of the tangle of bed linens, grinning like a fool as she mentally replayed the night she’d shared with Damon. She inhaled deeply, the scent of his skin filling her nose. He lay on his stomach next to her, mouth cracked open and arms spread, one over his head, the other dangling off the side of the mattress as he slept. She listened to the sound of his breathing, and watched his chest rise and fall.

Her fingers itched to run over the tattoos across his shoulders, the dark black ink contrasting with his lightly tanned skin. Watching him sleep, seeing him so totally relaxed, sent her heart racing faster. He was so sexy, so perfect. She bit her lower lip and fought to restrain herself from waking him, from pushing herself against him, kissing him deeply and seeing if

what she’d heard about a man’s sex drive first thing in the morning was true.

Before she could stop herself, she brushed the smooth skin of his face with her thumb. The sharp, chiseled lines of his cheekbones and face stunned her. Even while he slept, he wasbreathtaking, beautiful in his intensity. But when he was awake, nothing gripped her more than the icy blue depths of his eyes. They pierced through her, wild and ferocious. Like a Siberian tiger, both hypnotic and terrifying.

Still dead to the world, he responded with a low grumble, leaning into her touch, then settled into sound sleep again. She smiled. Being with him for a second time had been so different from the first. When she’d given him her virginity, the pain had been minimal, and he had impressed her with how quickly he’d assuaged her fears. But the second time had blown her away with how familiar it had been in its intimacy. This time she’d known who he was.

Had understood the tenderness behind each touch. This man she’d dreamed of for years.

Rolling to her side of the bed again, she stared up at the ceiling. For someone so distant, so calculating and sometimes downright cold when he was fighting, Damon’s capacity for tenderness had touched her, revealing the man behind the mask, the man she’d come to know through letters. There was no doubt in her mind that he cared for her. The same feelings coursed through her whenever they touched.

Whether he knew that or not, she wasn’t certain.

She clenched her jaw. Anger built inside her as she thought of how stupid she’d been. How could she have been such an idiot? She should have known that the man she knew, her B, wouldn’t intentionally have left Mark for dead. Damon still blamed himself, but after nearly losing him in the same way, she didn’t blame him anymore.

Not when she’d made the same mistake so easily.

Her mind wandered to all the letters she’d never answered.

How deeply had she hurt him?

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stood and padded across the room to her desk. She slid the bottom draweropen and dug underneath the piles of school papers until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the large stack of envelopes—not a single one opened. Months. It’d been months since she’d ghosted him.

She set the letters down, then quickly cleaned herself up and got dressed, then pulled on his black leather jacket. Finally, she grabbed the letters, walked through to the living room and stepped out onto the fire escape.

The cold winter air stung her cheeks, but she sat down on the top step, her favorite quiet place. She glanced at the sky. Not a single star in sight thanks to the overwhelming lights of the city. She exhaled a long breath.

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