–Damon–
What I love most after making love with her is the unexpected.
She sat on top of me after that intense, mind-numbing session—still glowing, still breathtaking. I leaned back against the headboard, completely spent, completely hers, as I drank in the sight of her naked body straddling mine.
That flawless, milky-white skin.
That spill of snow-blonde hair cascading down her back.
And those haunting violet eyes—glassy, unfocused, and blank, always. Because she couldn't see me… but damn, she still owned me. Every inch, every breath, every damn drop of me.
And then—fuck.
That glistening fluid we'd worked so hard for, trickling from between her thighs down to my abdomen.
My seed.
Me inside her.
The idea of our babies... I exhaled hard. God, I might've given her too much of it again. But I'd pour more. Always more.
She stared in my direction, her gaze distant and unfixed. That was her usual. And yet it felt like she saw right through me.
