Marked by Three

ChapterOne

Damon,” I moaned right into his mouth. His hand was pressed to the small of my back freezing, like always.

It felt cold. So damn cold.

But it didn’t matter. Every place he touched me felt like it was on fire anyway.

I was aching so bad I started grinding against his thigh without even thinking, chasing any kind of relief I can get. A whole month of stolen glances across the ER. A month of those ice-blue eyes tracking me like I was dinner. A month of acting like the tension wasn’t slowly killing us both.

But tonight, I was done acting.

The supply closet smelled like bleach and plastic packaging, with shelves full of gauze pressing into my spine as he pinned me there. One hand twisted in my hair, the other clamped on my hip hard enough I’d probably have fingerprints tomorrow.

“f**k,” he growled against my lips, his accent thicker than I’d ever heard it. “, if you keep doing that…”

“What?” I rolled my hips again, feeling exactly how hard he was through his scrubs. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

His eyes flashed, I swears for a split second they looked red in the shitty fluorescent light. Then his mouth was on my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse, and my brain just… shut off.

“I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for,” he muttered against my skin. “Is that what you want, Kira? You want me to f**k you right here, where anyone could walk in?”

Hearing those filthy words in that polished voice made me clench so hard it hurt. “Yes. Please, yes.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, and something in his face made my breath stick. Hunger maybe , sure but also this dark, possessive edge that felt almost scary.

“Not here,” he said after a beat. “Not like this. When I take you, it’s going to be somewhere I can take my time. Somewhere I can hear every little sound you make without the whole damn hospital hearing you scream my name.”

The promise In his voice sent another rush of heat straight between my legs.

“But…” His hand slid from my hip down to my thigh, fingers dragging up the inside. “I can’t let you walk back out there like this. You’re shaking.”

“Damon.” It came out like a whine.

“Shh. Let me take care of you.” His fingers found the drawstring of my scrubs. “Okay if I…?”

I nodded. Words failing me.

He untied it so slowly I wanted to scream, then those cold fingers slipped under the fabric. The second he touched me over my panties we both groaned.

“Jesus, you’re soaked,” he breathed. “All this for me?”

“You know it is.” Pride? What pride? “Please.”

“Please what?” He kept tracing over the wet cotton, teasing, not giving me enough. “Tell me.”

“Touch me. Make me come. I don’t care, just please.”

That low growl rumbled out of him again, the one that meant he was losing the fight with himself. Then his fingers slid under my panties and I forgot how lungs worked.

So cold. His hand felt like ice against my overheated skin and the contrast was insane. He circled my c**t once, twice my knees almost gave out.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around my waist to hold me up. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

He moved like he does in the OR precise, confident, no hesitation. Slow circles on my c**t while his fingers teased lower, then pushed inside.

“So wet,” he said, almost awed. “So f*****g perfect. I want to taste you. Want to bury my face between your legs until you forget your own name.”

“Damon… I’m gonna…”

“I know.” One finger slid in deep. I gasped. “So tight. God, when I finally get inside you…”

Second finger. Thumb pressing hard on my c**t. It was too much, too good. I shoved my face into his neck to muffle the moan as everything exploded.

He kept going, gentler now, drawing it out until I was shaking and oversensitive. Only then did he pull his hand away. I already missed it.

I watched, still dazed, as he brought his fingers to his mouth. Eyes locked on mine, he licked them clean. The sight sent another sharp pulse straight through me.

“Delicious,” he said quietly. “Better than I imagined.”

Before I could even process that, my pager screamed.

Reality slammed back. Supply closet. Seattle General. I’d just let the new attending the guy technically in charge of me, finger me at work. What the actual hell.

Damon must’ve seen the panic because he cupped my face gently. “Hey. Don’t spiral.”

“Damon, we just… in a supply closet…”