The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 60: Chapter 60 I want you. All of you.

Damian’s POV

When Aria asked me up, relief hit me so hard I nearly lost my composure.

I’d been bracing myself for her anger all evening.

Vanessa showing up like that, the way she’d thrown herself at me in front of everyone—I’d expected Aria to shut down, to pull away.

Instead, here we were, stepping into the elevator of her building, and she was still looking at me with those green eyes that made my wolf go absolutely feral.

The elevator doors slid shut. The space suddenly felt too small, too warm.

Aria leaned against the wall, and I couldn’t stop staring.

That dress—white, simple, but clinging to every curve—had been driving me insane all night.

The way it hugged her waist, the pale skin of her shoulders, the way her hair fell loose now after being pinned up earlier.

I’d spent the entire evening watching other men look at her. Wanting her. And I’d wanted to rip their fucking throats out.

"Thank you for tonight," Aria said softly, breaking the silence. "For everything. For... handling Vanessa."

"You don’t need to thank me for that."

"Still. You didn’t have to—"

"Aria." I cut her off, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. "I told you. No one disrespects you. Not in front of me. Not ever."

Her cheeks flushed pink. Fuck. Even that made me hard.

I shifted my weight, trying to get control of myself.

My wolf was clawing at me, demanding I touch her, taste her, claim her. The elevator was too small. Her scent—jasmine and something warmer, something uniquely her—was everywhere.

"Damian?" Aria’s voice was hesitant. "Are you okay? You look..."

"I’m fine." The lie came out through gritted teeth.

I wasn’t fine. I was the furthest thing from fine. My control was hanging by a thread, and that thread was fraying fast.

The elevator climbed higher. Each floor that passed felt like torture.

"You’re really tense," Aria observed, tilting her head. "Was tonight that stressful?"

Stressful. That was one word for it.

"It’s not that," I managed.

"Then what is it?"

I looked at her. Really looked at her. Those green eyes, wide and curious. Her lips, slightly parted. The way her pulse fluttered at her throat.

"Aria." My voice had dropped to almost a growl. "You need to stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want me to lose control."

Her breath hitched. "What if I do?"

The elevator chimed. Her floor.

The doors opened, but neither of us moved.

"You don’t know what you’re saying," I said, even as every instinct screamed at me to pin her against that wall and make her mine.

"Don’t I?" Aria stepped closer, her hand coming up to rest on my chest. Right over my heart, which was pounding like I’d run a marathon. "You’ve been staring at me all night, Damian. Don’t think I didn’t notice."

Fuck. She had me there.

"I’m trying," I ground out, "to be a gentleman."

"Maybe I don’t want a gentleman right now."

That did it. The thread snapped.

I moved before I could think, backing her against the elevator wall. My hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing over her jaw.

"You’re playing with fire, baby girl," I warned, my face inches from hers.

"Then burn me."

I kissed her.

Hard. Desperate. Like I’d been starving for her and she was the only thing that could satisfy me.

Aria made a sound—half gasp, half moan—and her arms came up around my neck. She kissed me back just as fiercely, her body pressing against mine.

My wolf surged forward, pleased, possessive. *Mine,* it growled. *Ours.*

I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers. She tasted like wine and something sweeter, something I wanted to drown in.

"Damian," she breathed against my mouth.

"Yeah, baby?"

"The elevator—"

Right. We were still in the goddamn elevator.

I forced myself to pull back, breathing hard. Aria looked wrecked—lips swollen, eyes hazy, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Your apartment," I managed. "Now."

---

Aria’s POV

I couldn’t think straight.

Damian’s kiss had scrambled my brain, turned every coherent thought into static. All I knew was that I wanted more—more of his mouth, his hands, him.

I fumbled with my key card, my hands shaking. The lock finally beeped green, and I pushed the door open.

We barely made it inside before Damian was on me again.

He kicked the door shut behind us and pressed me against it, his mouth finding mine with a hunger that made my knees weak.

His hands were everywhere—sliding down my sides, gripping my hips, pulling me flush against him.

I could feel how hard he was. The knowledge sent a bolt of heat straight through me.

"Been thinking about this," Damian growled against my lips, his voice rough and dark. "All fucking night. Watching you in this dress. Watching other men look at you."

"Damian—"

"Wanted to tear it off you in front of everyone. Show them exactly who you belong to."

His words made me dizzy. I’d never heard him like this—raw, unfiltered, almost feral.

"Then do it," I breathed.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his grey eyes almost black with desire. "You sure about this, baby girl? Because once I start, I’m not stopping."

"I’m sure." I reached for his tie, loosening it. "I want you. All of you."

Something in his expression shifted—primal, possessive.

"Good," he said roughly. "Because you’re mine now. Every fucking inch of you."