Rejected Omega: Claimed By Her Ex's Uncle

I Love Talking Dirty

Reina’s POV

Seeing Damon’s face this close when his golden gaze piercing right through me, I felt my resolve crumble again. His thumb brushed across my lips, anchoring me to him as we shared another long, lingering kiss that left me breathless.

"You provoked me," he murmured against my neck, his voice a low vibration. "So you’re the one who has to stop me." I shivered as I felt the edge of his teeth graze my skin, his hot breath fanning across my collarbone.

"I’m the only one who’s undressed," I whispered, biting my lower lip as I looked at his shirt.

A smirk spread across his lips. In one swift motion, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. I watched, completely mesmerized, as the muscles in his back flexed and rippled under the dim lights of the suite. When he turned back to me, our eyes locked.

"Don't be scared," Damon said softly, shifting to sit up.

My eyes widened as I took in the sight of him. His body was a masterpiece of power.

The perfectly carved abs, muscular arms, and shoulders so broad they seemed to fill the room. It was clear he had spent years honing his strength, but as I looked closer, I saw that his skin wasn't flawless. It was a map of his history, marked by multiple scars that told stories of battles I couldn't imagine.

Then, my gaze caught the tattoo on his arm: a simple, elegant infinity symbol. I propped myself up on my elbows, my curiosity finally outweighing my nerves. I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I traced the lines of his chest, moving upward toward his neck where the faint traces of more ink disappeared beneath his jawline.

"Are you a tattoo lover?" I asked softly. My fingers stopped over a specific scar at the center of his chest, one that remained a dark brown, refusing to fade like the others. "You’ve bruised your body everywhere, Damon. What kind of life have you been living? What kind of fights were these?"

"Are we really going to talk about battles right now?" Damon asked, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face.

I noticed his gaze drop, and following his eyes, I gasped. In my curiosity to examine his scars, I had forgotten my own state; my nightgown had fallen open, leaving me completely exposed to his burning golden stare.

I scrambled to pull the fabric back over my chest, but Damon was faster. He caught my wrists in a firm but gentle grip, preventing me from hiding.

"Since you aren't fully ready yet, I’ll go back on my words for tonight," he said. "But don't provoke me like that again, Reina. Next time, I won't stop until I’ll f**k you."

I felt a hard lump in my throat and forced myself to gulp. "Don’t talk... Dirty," I murmured, my face flushing a deep crimson.

Damon didn't look apologetic at all; he simply smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes. "I love talking dirty. You’ll have to get used to it, mate."

That was the second time he had called me mate. It was strange; the agonizing sting of Zayne’s rejection had somehow drifted away, replaced by a new, fluttering sensation that began to take root in my chest.

"You can sleep here," he said, already shifting to climb out of the bed.

"The bed is big. You can sleep on one side," I blurted out, stopping him before I could lose my nerve. I worked quickly to retie the knots of my nightgown, securing the fabric tightly before scooting to the far right edge of the mattress. "Good night."

I pulled the heavy silk duvet up to my chin and squeezed my eyes shut. I knew sleep was a distant hope; my mind was a chaotic storm. I was the one who had initiated the kiss, and I had ended up sharing an intimacy with Damon that Zayne had never even attempted in all our years together.

'No, don’t think about him,' I scolded myself, trying to banish the thoughts of my former mate.

A moment later, I felt the bed dip and the rustle of sheets as Damon settled in. I opened my eyes just a crack. The suite was shrouded in shadows now, the only light coming from a single dim lamp glowing softly in the corner. I could feel the radiant heat of his body just centimeters away from mine. I remained like that for a few minutes before I finally turned around.

Damon’s eyes were closed. He was sleeping without a shirt, his powerful chest rising and falling in the soft glow of the lamp. I leaned in just a fraction, my hand hovering tentatively over his face, just to check if was truly asleep.

'How can he sleep so peacefully?' I wondered, shifting a few centimeters closer to catch his scent. Maybe he’s just exhausted from traveling.

Then, a sudden thought struck me, cooling the warmth in my chest. 'What did he say his full name was? Damon Kingsley.'

The name felt heavy on my tongue. Kingsley. The same as Zayne’s.

I let out a soft, silent chuckle, shaking my head at my own paranoia. 'What am I thinking? Zayne never mentioned having any relatives, let alone a brother or a cousin like this. Besides, the world is full of people with the same surname. It has to be a coincidence.'

I pulled the duvet tighter, trying to convince myself that the man lying next to me had nothing to do with the man who had broken my heart.

I shut my eyes again when Zayne's image started flashing. And the mocking laughter of my half-sister. Silent tears escaped from the corners of my eyes, but I didn't let the sobs intensify.

Turning my back to Damon, I tried to sleep, not knowing that he wasn't asleep and had his eyes on me.