Chapter 14
Damon
My heart pounded in my chest like a wild beast clawing its way free, primal instincts surging through my veins as I held Elliot close. The scent of his arousal mingled with the sweetness of the fruit salad, a potent combination that threatened to overwhelm my senses. Yet, amidst the chaos of my raging desires, one thought stood out above all others:
Mine.
This tiny, fragile-seeming man was mine. Every curve, every freckle, every beat of his heart belonged to me. And now, even more so, with the precious gift he carried within him—my child.
A ferocious urge to protect, to cherish, and to dominate surged within me. It was an ancient drive, hardwired into my DNA by centuries of alphas before me. To provide, to shelter, to claim—not just Elliot, but the vulnerable life growing inside him.
My mind flashed back to a memory long buried, dredged up from the darkest corners of my soul. An image of a pale, lifeless form, limbs limp and eyes vacant—a haunting echo of the omega who had once been mine. Beside him lay the tiny, stillborn body of our son, a tragedy that had torn apart not just my heart, but my very essence.
No, I vowed silently, clenching my jaw against the sudden, searing pain. Not again. Never again.
Elliot deserved better. He deserved a chance to experience true joy, to bask in the warmth of family without the shadow of loss looming overhead. And I would make sure he got it—I swore it on my name, on my honor, and on the legacy of the Nightshade Wolves.
With renewed purpose, I claimed Elliot's mouth, pouring all my protective fury, all my possessive fire into the kiss. Our tongues clashed, our teeth clicked, and our breath became one as I drank deeply from his lips. He tasted like honey and apples, like sunlight and promise—like hope.
I wanted to consume him, to devour every inch of him, to merge our beings until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. But more than that, I needed him to understand—to truly comprehend—the depth of my devotion, the unbreakable chain that bound us together.
As Elliot pulled back slightly, breaking the heated frenzy of our kiss, I felt a flicker of disappointment. But then, those large hazel eyes blinked open, and I found myself captivated by the confusion swimming within them.
"And… and what about the fruit salad?" He asked, voice breathless and tinged with uncertainty.
It took me a moment to process his question, my mind still clouded with primal urges and the overwhelming rush of emotions that had taken hold of me. When I finally did, I couldn't help but chuckle, a warm, rumbling sound that seemed to surprise both of us.
"What about it?" I murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of his cheek.
"It… it looks amazing," he stammered, cheeks flushing a soft pink. "And I don't want it to go to waste. You made it special for me…"
His words trailed off, leaving behind a comfortable silence as we gazed into each other's eyes. In that moment, I realized that while I might have been lost in the storm of my own desires, Elliot had been here, present, taking everything in. Even when faced with news that could have sent him spiraling, he had managed to maintain his compassion and consideration—for me, yes, but also for something as simple and pure as a plate of fruit.
A wave of love washed over me, stronger than any possessive instinct or raw desire. This was the Elliot I adored—the thoughtful, caring, empathetic being hidden beneath layers of fear and self-doubt. The omega who would make an incredible father.
"You're right," I said softly, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. "We shouldn't let such a beautiful creation go to waste."
Reaching around him, I grabbed the platter and fork, placing them carefully on the counter beside us. With a smirk, I picked up a slice of apple and brought it to his lips, feeding him slowly and deliberately.
"Mmm," he hummed, eyes fluttering closed as he savored the taste. "So good."
As he chewed, I watched his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, entranced by the simple action. My cock throbbed painfully in response, eager to feel that motion against its length. But I pushed down the urge, wanting this moment to last—to burn itself into my memory forever.
"Damon," Elliot whispered, opening his eyes to meet my gaze. "What happens now?"
The vulnerability in his voice tugged at my heartstrings, and I wrapped my arms tightly around him, pulling him close. Resting my chin atop his head, I breathed in his scent, letting it fill my lungs and calm my racing thoughts.
"We take things slow," I promised, running my hands soothingly along his back. "You'll see a doctor tomorrow, someone discreet and trustworthy. We'll confirm if you're pregnant—and believe me, little omega, I already know deep in my bones that you are—but either way, we'll figure out what steps need to be taken next."
He nodded hesitantly, his small hands gripping my shirt as if seeking reassurance. I held him tighter, offering whatever comfort I could.
"But no matter what," I continued, tilting his chin up so that our eyes met once more, "know this: nothing will change how I feel about you. Nothing will diminish your worth in my eyes—or in the eyes of the pack. To us, you'll always be the most precious thing in the world."
His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I quickly brushed them away with my thumbs before they could fall.
"I never thought…" he started, pausing to clear his throat. "I never thought anyone could want me like this—not after… not after everything that happened in my past."
My heart ached for him, for the loneliness and rejection he must have endured. It really must have been a lot.
Even amidst the pain, there was a spark of defiance burning bright within him—proof of his strength and resilience.
"Well, get used to it," I growled playfully, nipping at his lower lip. "Because I'm never letting you go. Not ever."
He smiled weakly, leaning into my touch. "But what about the others—your family, your friends? Won't they think differently of me? Of us?"
My family? He hadn't even met them. No need to worry about what they would think.
I shook my head firmly, my expression hardening. "Let them think what they want. Their opinions mean nothing to me—nothing compared to your happiness and well-being. If they can't accept you, if they can't support us, then they're welcome to leave."
Elliot searched my gaze, looking for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he sighed, melting into my embrace. His body relaxed, and the tension that had been coiling his muscles began to ebb away.
"Thank you," he whispered, burying his face in my chest. "For believing in me, for accepting me just as I am."
Now he was thanking me. When we first met, he thought something like that would never happen.
I held him closer, my heart swelling with emotion. "There is nothing to thank me for, little omega. It is I who should be grateful—infinite times over—for finding you."
As Elliot clung to me, his words filling me with warmth and pride, I couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was carrying my child. Our child. A new life growing within him. I just really couldn't believe it. The news was almost too good to be true.
Our bodies pressed together, and I became acutely aware of every delicious curve and dip of his form. My cock throbbed, trapped painfully beneath the thin barrier of my clothing, yearning to come out, almost begging. Yet, I knew I needed to rein in my desires, to focus on comforting and caring for my omega above all else. If I didn't do that, I wouldn't forgive myself.
With gentle fingers, I grasped the hem of Elliot's t-shirt, lifting it slowly as he raised his arms, allowing me to strip him bare. His naked torso pressed against mine, soft skin meeting firm muscle, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through me. I wanted to explore every inch of him, to map each freckle and scar with kisses and caresses. And god help me, but I was certainly going to do that, and more.
Next, I targeted the waistband of his jeans, popping open the button before sliding the zipper down. Hooking my thumbs into the fabric, I dragged both pants and underwear down his legs in one fluid motion, leaving him completely exposed to me. His erection jutted out proudly, and I couldn't resist wrapping my hand around its velvety length, giving it a slow, firm stroke.
He gasped, arching into my touch, and I relished the power I held over him—the ability to make him tremble with desire, to reduce him to breathless moans and desperate pleas.
"Damon," he whimpered, breathing heavily over my neck. "Please..."
"What do you need, little omega?" I murmured, trailing my lips along his jawline, feeling the stubble there scratch deliciously against my skin. "Tell me."
He hesitated, searching for the right words. I gave him time, knowing that he wasn't one to vocalize his desires easily. But I also knew that part of him craved the dominance I offered—that he thrived under my guidance and control.
"I... I want..." he stammered, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Cute, I thought. "I want you to fuck me. Hard."
A surge of lust pulsed through me, and I squeezed his cock in response, making him groan.
"You really want that? Aren't you afraid of what I might do, knowing what I know now?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Needing to hear him say it nonetheless. "To fill you up with my seed?"
His eyes fluttered closed, and he nodded eagerly. "Yes," he breathed. "God, yes..."
I smirked, running my thumb over the slit at the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum that had formed there. Bringing it to my mouth, I licked it clean, savoring the salty tang of his arousal.
"So eager," I teased, releasing his shaft only to grip his ass, pulling him flush against me once more. "So desperate for my cock."
He moaned, grinding against me shamelessly, seeking friction and relief. I could feel the heat radiating from between his legs, the dampness that coated his inner thighs—evidence of his desire, his readiness.
But still, I held back, wanting to draw out this moment, to build the anticipation until neither of us could stand it anymore. No need to rush anything, after all.
"Damon," he panted, desperation creeping into his voice. "Why are you torturing me like this?"
I chuckled, low and wicked, enjoying the sight of him writhing and squirming in my arms. "Because, little omega, I love watching you beg for my cock. And because I know that when I finally give you everything you want, it will be even better than either of us can imagine."
His breath hitched, and I felt his nails rake across my back. The bite of pain sent another wave of lust crashing through me, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
But still, I persisted, determined to draw out this moment, to make it last forever in our memories.
"And besides," I added, nipping at his earlobe, "don't you remember what we promised?"
He shuddered, a full-body quake that rattled him to his core. "Y-yes," he whispered. "I remember."
"Good," I growled, squeezing his ass possessively. "Then let's make sure that happens sooner rather than later. Because nothing—not anything in this world or the next—will stop me from making you mine in every way possible."
With a sudden urgency, I grabbed the hem of my own shirt, yanking it off in one swift movement. Elliot's hands were quick to follow, exploring the newly bared expanse of my chest, tracing the lines of muscle and the scattering of dark hair that led southwards. A low growl rumbled in my throat as his fingers danced across my abs, teasing and tantalizing.
Our bodies swayed together as we worked to shed the remainder of our clothes. My shorts and boxer briefs joined the growing pile on the floor, leaving me just as naked as he was. Our erections brushed against each other, and we both sucked in sharp breaths at the contact—a preview of the pleasure yet to come.
Elliot's hands continued their exploration, moving lower now, cupping my ass and pulling me closer. I could feel the heat emanating from between his legs, the wetness that coated his inner thighs. The scent of his arousal filled the air, and I knew that he was ready—more than ready—for what came next.
My hands mirrored his actions, gripping his firm cheeks and lifting him slightly, encouraging him to wrap those long, lean legs around my waist. He complied willingly, locking his ankles behind my back, and pressing his hardness against my stomach.
We stood there for a moment, locked in an embrace, our hearts pounding in sync, our breaths coming fast and heavy. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only us, only this raw connection that bound us together.
Slowly, I turned us towards the counter, laying him down on its cool surface. His body shivered as it made contact, a soft moan escaping his lips.
"Are you cold, little omega?" I murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "Or is it something else?"
He bit his lip, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Something else," he admitted softly.
"Good," I replied, trailing my fingertips along his collarbone, his sternum, and then his belly button. "Because I'm going to make you burn, Elliot. I'm going to set fire to your very soul."
And then, I lowered myself onto him, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss that left no doubt about my intentions.