When she was done and drowsy, high on the warm wine that she had taken from his vein, with her eyes hooded and that satiated face of hers so close and within the reach of his lips, he couldn't help but kiss her lips. Take possession of the mouth which had nursed at his vein. The tang of iron on her tongue seemed sweeter with the way she was holding lightly onto his shirt, her body slumped and nestled in the cage of his arms.
Her moans in his mouth made vibrations that somehow rattled his heart. She was a treasure he had simply found on his aimless walk. He was just lucky to have found her.
When he leaned back to look into her eyes, she was as mesmerizing as ever, but he could see the strength that was now starting to power her core. As relief fed his anxious heart, he was more at peace with the idea of laying her down.
Once she was laying on her back, she stared up at him, her head buzzing with delight, she wanted to be held by him. For the moment, she had forgotten how he had treated her, all that she remembered was her near death experience. The pain that had rippled through her body was somehow only soothed by his presence, and mayhap his close proximity.
Her eyes darted to her bandaged shoulder and her eyes went wide. The top of her gown was ripped apart, only the white bandages wrapped around her bosom kept her integrity intact.
With him around, she wanted that integrity to be snatched from her. She wanted to be in the dilemma where she was naked, her chest open to him, for him. She wanted to see how he would react, how he would treat her.............how he would touch her.
Damien followed her eyes.
"Don't worry baby, we'll be able to remove it by morning. You'll be healed by then."
She looked back up and gulped at his reply. So he thought she was wondering about her bandages? She was rather wondering about why there wasn't any greed in his eyes at how under dressed she was.
"O-Okay." she answered him. He smiled down at her with something close to yearning.
He didn't say anything, just kept on staring at her, the passion that she felt whenever he fed her and kissed her was burning low, instead there was adoration brimming his eyes.
She loved it.
"What is it, Milord?"
He stayed calm for a moment, his eyes taking in her face, moving over her body.
"You really are a treasure.."
Her heart thumped at his words. Heat flooded to her cheeks and she averted her eyes to miss his direct gaze. He was a little too much for her when he looked at her with what she had started to identify as worshipping.
"I thank you for the compliment, but I don't see why that would come to your mind."
As far Elle knew, she did not fit the standards of the society. She was fat with hair that never could be twisted into a chignon and with a shade of skin which caused nothing but burns. She came from the streets and people loathed her for her mere existence.
"Why?" He slid beside her, turning on his side so he could gaze into the depths of her eyes. "Don't you think you're precious?"
He watched the light in her eyes dim, like the question hit a nerve that was better off untouched. Did she not know how beautiful she was? Men would kill to have her, to touch an feel her. He had seen pretty women before, but no one matched the darling that lay in beside him now.
"I might be, but it doesn't really matter." She whispered back. The tips of her fingers moving as she tried to distract herself.
Damien was bothered more by her reply than how she winced a little. He turned again, hovering over her with his forearms placed on either side of her head. Her breath warmed his mouth, so close they were that their noses brushed.
"Why doesn't it matter, Elle?"
Elle stared deep in his eyes, as if looking at his soul. Or mayhap her own image that reflected in his irises. Her own misery that he tried to ponder upon, and that she would never allow to happen. Her past was deeper than the ocean, with beasts that would scare even the darkness that Lord Damien harboured, reaper himself was the witness to that. She had killed and robbed, and the ones in the way of survival had to be put down, no matter their age or intentions.
She wasn't an innocent.
"I might be precious for I have a purpose, but I ain't any treasure."
Damien kissed her cheek, opened his mouth and licked at her with the tip of his tongue. "Why, my sweet?"
" I would've been a treasure if I was buried to be found. No one would come looking for me, Damien, we simply aren't meant to be found. Everyone is precious, but our value is meaningless until someone puts a tag on us."
Loneliness crept up her spine. She recalled all the times when she slept alone, when she had no cover against the rain and she had nothing to eat. She would often return back to her shelters, never a home for a stray like her. People sought her as an assassin, she knew how to kill because they saw her as nothing but a body. A body easy to dispose, a body they weren't attached to. No one cared. No one came looking. No one out there to help.
"Out in the open we're simply gems no one bothers with."
Out in the open, she was just a stone, a shiny stone that sparkled. But whose shine was dimmed by dust, swapped by insecurities and I'll fate, she was just a someone.
" Why think like that, hmm, Ellie?"
Damien could see her. In her eyes he could see a younger version of herself. He wasn't trying to see in her past, or go through her memories. Her emotions were simply too strong for her to contain them. They reached out to him, showing him her wounds, her injuries which no one tended to.
She must have been some eight years old. She was standing in an alley, deep in the dark where no light entered, she stood like the reaper with a knife in her hand which was covered in blood. She wore rags for clothes, those filthy things with holes were so thin one had to wonder how she survived.
Before her was a body, a man twice or thrice her own frame, and yet he was laying at her feet. Cuts covered her skin, tears streaming down her haunted eyes. She was trembling with fear even though she had emerged victorious. A warrior in the form of a kid, she was undefeatable and yet shaken and broken at her core.
He understood well where all these depressing thoughts were emerging from. She was going into her heat, it did a thing or two to their emotions. Women were hyperaware, always conscious and felt everything more strongly. That was why women were always taken care of by their mates in their heat, always at their beck and call. The injury must have triggered her bad thoughts.
He bent down and captured her mouth. A kiss so gentle it made their lips tingle, his tongue caressed her, coaxed her. She responded just the way he wanted her to. A little hesitant but she soon got comfortable.
He made sure not to let any of his weight fall on her. Putting an arm under her waist, he flipped in his back, taking her with him so she laid on his chest. He caressed her back, stroking her.
He was going to be there for her. She belonged to him. She was his.
"You are a treasure, my darling. I've found you. You're mine. "
"But even you didn't come looking for me. You found me, there wasn't anyone searching for me. You just stumbled upon me. Nothing more, nothing less."