Alpha Damon (Sienna) novel Chapter 249

Delilah:

The light creeping through the curtains was warm, soft, like it hadn’t yet decided to wake the world. I squinted my eyes as I fought the urge to open them. I did not want to. For a few moments, I wanted to lie down.

I stirred slowly, the sheets tangled around my legs. But when I forgot where I was as I looked around. I frowned in confusion before his scent filled me, the familiar one that made me smile.

Ethan.

I turned my head, startled to find him still in bed beside me. He was looking at me, gently running his fingers over my hair. He did not speak for a few seconds. He simply let his finger hover up as he stared down at me.

Fully dressed. Hair damp. Freshly showered.

There was a tray on the nightstand with two plates, steam rising from what looked like eggs, toast, and coffee. Thoughtful. Practical.

And yet… he’d come back to bed.

“Good morning.” He said softly.

I blinked, adjusting to the light, pulling the collar of the shirt I was wearing higher on my neck. His shirt. It smelled like him, like pine and warmth and something steady. And I sure as hell did not remember how I put it on in the first place. I knew that I slept, but I was sure that I did not slept wearing a shirt, let alone his.

“You’re still here,” I murmured.

His eyes opened slowly, amused. “Where else would I be?”

“You showered. You got breakfast.” I commented, choosing to dismiss his question. “And I am wearing your shirt.”

“I did.” He said, smirking at me.

“You got back in bed?”

“I did that too.” He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. “You look too peaceful for me to be waking you up and I did not want you to wake up being by yourself.”

I stared at him, lips parting, then closing again.

“This is the first time I’ve woken up next to someone,” I said quietly, before I could think better of it. “Normally they would get up long before I woke up, some left a note, others just walked away. That’s of course, if they lived to tell the tale.”

Ethan’s brow lifted just a little. “Then you’ve never been with a man before. And considering that I lived to tell the tale, it seems to me that I might be luckier than others.”

The words were low. Gentle. Not mocking. But they hit something inside me so fast it made my chest squeeze. It was only the last part that had him joking around as he gently ran his finger over my jawline.

I did my best not to lean and just touch, and tried not to show how much it affected me. But he saw it, of course he did. Told me. But the way that he looked at me made my heart skip a beat in a way that I did not even know how to explain.

Before I could say anything, he leaned in and kissed me.

Soft at first. Just his lips brushing mine. Then deeper, fuller, his hand sliding along my cheek, anchoring me to the moment. When he pulled back, I was breathless. Yay.

“We need to eat,” he said against my lips, teasing but serious. “Before it gets cold. Else there would be no point of it being here, would it?”

I looked away. “Doctors. Him. Everyone. They just said that I cannot have kids. No matter what is going to happen, I can’t really have some. I cannot start a family.”

Ethan reached for me, pulled me close, wrapped me in his arms like the world outside didn’t exist.

“And who are they to tell you that? Doctors? Who is he to cut off? Anything that would help you get any hope?” He asked, leaning in. I closed my eyes as I allowed myself to give in to his words, as I allowed myself to believe something that they told me was never going to be true. Then he whispered against my ear, “No matter what they told you, Delilah… you’re perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, slower. As if to prove the words with every movement of his mouth, every brush of his hands.

When he pushed inside of me, it wasn’t just physical.

It was intimate. It was real.

His thrusts were gentle, his eyes fixed on mine with every passing moment, with every move that he was making. I moaned his name more than I thought that I ever would. He connected his lips with mine, whispering ‘your perfect’ like it was a distant prayer that he wanted me to hear. A prayer that he did not want me to forget.

We moved in sync, bodies molding, hearts pounding, breaths mingling in the quiet.

And in that moment, I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t a weapon or a shadow or a mistake. I was just his.

And he was mine.