She's Human but Alpha Wants Her Back.

Chapter Twelve

Damien POV

I knew turning around was the next thing that comes after she had stripped. So I waited patiently to see it, locking on my sit and taking in the confused, nearly humiliated look in her features.

First to drop was the pullover, revealing the true maddening size of her breast. The winter clothes she walked in her with, hasn't done any good to those mad curves. I better stop her from walking around here those before it gets out of hand.

I never took in a good view of those t*ts the first day, I only moved with the heat of the moment, rage and desire mingling with my messed up senses. Her scent had me rushing to get a good taste of her skin without thinking of any thing else.

I let my gaze trail the contours of those heavy t*ts, teasing the curves of her ribs, and resting there like they knew exactly where they belonged. The pink hue of her n**ples only had me wondering what they'd take like when they are savored in my mouth, not in a hurry, trying to steady my f****ng twitching c**k in order to send her straight to where she belonged, but in a slow satiating way with all the time in the world.

My c*ck twitched hard at the thought of that, but I never showed a single reaction. The robe was thankfully, enough to hide the bulge beneath and so, staring and fantasizing continued.

She tugged at her wooly pants next. Awkwardly like beer, meeting my eyes with a shudder but I kept it unfazed, calm like she didn't matter, of course here type do not matter her in Darkclaw even though she's got the attention of the alpha, that's doesn't make any difference. She was no better than a nuisance afterall, or rather a menace who had forced herself in here, but this type of menace don't walk away easily. She's not anytime of trouble, she trouble wrapped in a curvy body and soft lips. My type.

When the fabric finally fell clean at her feet, she step away small, and carefully like she had rehearsed every step before.

Good.

I gave her a look carved from stone. We shouldn't be smiling, we should get straight to the business of the day. But first, the shower. She has had that dress on for more than fifteen hours, she should be starched in it by now.

Rea or Rare or whatever the hell she calls herself was all mine pleasure to have, for invading into my territory and even penetrating into my head, making everything else useless and unbearable ri handle id make sure I get pleasure in everything and this would be our new routine.

I hadn't gotten enough time to watch, savour every inch of her goodness amd right now, I think this should make up for it.

Her waist... lethal.

Damn!

A dangerously defined waist, exploding into full hips. I needed to push her thighs apart until her tight little hole becomes visible, leaning in close enough to bring my lips right in her sl*t and taste her in my mouth while she jolts and jerks in vain.

She looked like a perfect artwork made by a supernatural entity.

Rare!

I hadn't made a single mistake the second I called her that. She was really perfectly. Insanely. Rare. If she had been anyone else, she wouldn't be standing here right now. Anyone else would have been dead by now.

I wasn't done figuring her out. I needed to know what she was made of, why she was different.

She had broken the rules of destiny and got away with it. But with me, she'd never escape.

She leaned slowly after stepping about from the fabric, her steps small and hesitant, her arms lingered over her breasts as she bent, panic in every breath as she picked the fabric up. Her knees pressed hard against her chest which only made it worst, the round softness of her curve popped out when she pressed slightly on her weight.

She straightened, shaking visibly as she tossed the fabric aside and stepped aside, waiting for the next command.

Rea not been able to hold my gaze while she's unclad was the funniest, stupidest thing she had ever done since she came in. For someone who had desperately thrown her legs open and gotten her cl*t rammed while desperately begging for a little plant, I had expected more. Better. If she had that fire then she'd really need it, the stupid act of apprehension and trepidation would never get her out of here anytime soon.

Or maybe it was better that way, the more she played vulnerable, the more it gets interesting, I'd enjoy every second of it. Take pleasure in her discomfort and watch her break apart.

She tired to be bold where she stood but her featured betrayed the nervous shyness she couldn't hide. She clearly didn't realise why she had been asked to take everything off. Her boots were still clad in her feet.

She wasn't done.

I indicated to her feet. Every movement cold as ice.

Now she let go of her hands around her breast and bend again to undo her boots. Watching her do it was a sight I was eager to take in, the way her body moved when she leaned, that awkward moment when she's trying hard to cover what was still left exposed.

I found myself relishing it. Each movement making it hard to look away. She was done, pushed the boots aside too and straightened. Then came that stupid posture again, her hands lingering around her chest again for no exact reason. And that got me pissed, I looked up at her, my head tilting, a degree, jaw tightening, not enough to over react, just to let her know I saw it all and I hated it.

"Take your hands off and stop acting like a child."

She shuddered, but obeyed. Immediately. Without uttering a single word. Without evening meeting my gaze like she does. Her eyes dropped to the floor like she's got a savior there.

I didn't care.

"Good." I said, voice flat and annoyed.

Her arms fell freely with a loud thud. I'm sure, louder and hurtful than she intended, every movement frantic and involuntary. I thought it would stain crimsome on her hips. Just a clumsy bright-eyed girl acting all nervous when this just the begginng. I was nowhere near, this was on only a fraction of what I ment to do to her.

Time to get her off my side, standing there like a lost mannequin.

Then I decided Rea would never walk around the house on proper clothes anymore.

"Now walk to the bathroom and leave the doors open." I ordered and she bolted to the bathroom immediately, like the floor she had her feet on, was burning hotter than she could take. Another pretty view followed. Round and soft, swaying as she moved.

"Rea." I said sharply while she paused halfway to the bathroom. "Make sure that scruffy look of yours is gone when you come out."

She nodded frantically and I didn't think it was about what I said, but because she needed desperately to vanish from sight.

She slipped into the washroom, facing away from me. Still good, a perfect view face me still nothing about the view was lost. I didn't stop her. Didn't utter a word, just locked on, focus as I watched.

She moved through the next three minutes in the most nervous, hesitant yet elegant way I had ever seen. Turnimg something as ordinary as bathing into something effortlessly mesmerizing, something I can't look away from.

Who would have thought that a nervous hesitant habit could be this captivating to watch.

I was definitely having all the fun in the world watching her.

She finished within the next few minutes and stumbled out like a wet deer.

She had the white towel on the rail around her body haphazardly, her blonde wet hair sliding down her back like a goddess stepping out of a flowing water, excetps that goddesses don't quiver all the time and not afraid to hold eye contact, her skin translucent like it gained another glow with a red hue visible on her cheeks.

She inched away from the door frame, a confused look on her face. She probably didn't know what next to do. I saw that, but I let the silence stretch for a while, watching her shrink under it.

"Get the dryer. Upper cabinet. Beside you." I said, low and clipped.

She hurried to the cabinet. The top cabinet was no where around her reach, she clearly needed an assistant. But no. That's where the show lay.

She hopped and then lost guard of the towel. Good but devastating. The sight alone was supposed documented for my view alone. It was maddening. She gripped it almost immediately, after grabbing the dryer from the top.

Impressive. Yet, I let my gaze drag her frame, an unimpressed look crossing my features.

"Drop the towel on the rail and move."

I didn't mention where she should go. That's where the show lay. Create the confusion and watch the tension stretch. But that was'nt all, the worried look on her face was the best reaction ever.

If she's got a dangerous hourglass shape, then there's absolutely no need to walk around here in clothes.