Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 151 My finger trailed down

Victoria’s POV

I struggled to maneuver Damien’s drunk ass out of my car and toward the elevator. His breath was hot against my neck, his body a delicious weight against mine.

"We’re at your place. What’s the code?" I asked, trying to reach the panel beside his door.

Instead of answering, he pressed his face deeper into my neck, nipping at my skin.

"Damien, I need your face for the scanner," I muttered, attempting to turn his head toward the door panel, but he refused to cooperate, his lips tracing a path to my collarbone instead.

I tried to grab his hand for the fingerprint reader, but he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. "Don’t want to go in there," he slurred against my skin. "Want to stay with you."

"Fine," I sighed, feeling Nora purr with satisfaction inside me. My wolf had been unusually pleased since our encounter in the car. "You’re coming to my place then."

I half-dragged him to my door, scanned my face, and pulled him inside. His scent – smoky cedar with hints of midnight rose – filled my nostrils, making me lightheaded.

"Sit," I commanded, pushing him toward my oversized couch. "I’ll get you some water with honey. You’ll thank me tomorrow when you’re not dying from a hangover."

He collapsed onto the couch, sprawling his long limbs across the soft leather. I hurried to the kitchen, my body still humming from our earlier activities. When I returned with the honey water, Damien was already asleep.

I set the glass down on the coffee table and paused to look at him. His usual sharp, calculating expression had softened in sleep, though his brows remained furrowed as if troubled even in unconsciousness.

His suit jacket lay discarded on the floor, and he’d unbuttoned several buttons of his white shirt, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

I couldn’t help but stare at his exposed forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves. The veins and muscles there were pronounced – a testament to his alpha strength that had nothing to do with gym workouts and everything to do with his dominant wolf nature.

His fingers were long, elegant yet powerful. Those same fingers that had been inside me less than an hour ago, making me scream his name. I felt heat pool between my thighs at the memory.

I sat down beside him, indulging in the rare opportunity to study his face without his intense gaze making me nervous. In sleep, the hardness in his features had melted away, though not completely. His jawline remained sharp enough to cut glass, but his lips looked softer, more inviting.

I reached out, brushing away a strand of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead.

My fingertips lingered at his furrowed brow, gently smoothing the wrinkles there.

"Why so serious, even in sleep?" I whispered, tracing the line between his eyebrows.

Without his piercing stare, I could admire his face freely. High cheekbones, straight nose, and those impossibly long eyelashes that would make any woman jealous.

My finger trailed down the bridge of his nose, and I couldn’t resist giving it a gentle squeeze, half-wondering if it was real. It was perfect – too perfect.

But it was all him, all natural. No matter how I touched his face, nothing shifted or gave way. Just pure, unfairly beautiful Damien Sterling.

I smiled, allowing myself this childish exploration of his features. My fingertip traced his lips, and suddenly, he stirred. Before I could pull away, his hand shot up, gripping my wrist.

His eyes flew open, those gray irises illuminated by Arthur’s amber glow around the edges.

"Playing with fire, Victoria?" His voice was rough with sleep but unmistakably aroused.

"I thought you were passed out," I said, not bothering to pull my hand away.

"I was," he murmured, bringing my captured fingers to his lips. "Until I felt my mate touching me."

The word "mate" sent a jolt through me. We hadn’t discussed this – the fact that we both knew what we were to each other. He couldn’t possibly know I was his true mate; the charm bracelet I wore masked my alpha status and my scent. But somehow, his wolf recognized mine. Even with my scent suppressed, Nora’s call was apparently irresistible.

"I’m not—" I began, but he cut me off by sucking my finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digit.

A moan escaped me before I could stop it. Damien’s eyes darkened, and in one fluid motion, he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him.

"I know exactly what you are," he growled, his hands gripping my hips. "Mine."

His mouth found mine in a hungry kiss that tasted of whiskey and desire. His tongue pushed past my lips, claiming me with a possessiveness that made Nora howl with delight inside me.

I ground against his hardening length, feeling him grow beneath me. His hands slid under my blouse, his touch scorching my skin.

"Thought I’d had enough of you in the car," he said against my lips, his fingers expertly unhooking my bra. "But I’ll never get enough."

He yanked my blouse over my head, tossing it aside before removing my bra. The cool air hit my breasts, making my nipples harden instantly. Damien’s eyes feasted on me, that familiar hunger I’d seen so many times before making his pupils dilate.

"Perfect," he muttered, cupping both breasts in his large hands. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, and I arched into his touch. "Every fucking inch of you is perfect."

He leaned forward, taking one nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made me cry out, my fingers threading through his dark hair to hold him closer. He knew exactly how hard to suck, how to alternate between gentle bites and soothing licks.

His hands moved to my jeans, unbuttoning them with impatient fingers. I lifted my hips, allowing him to pull them down along with my underwear. The position was awkward, but Damien was determined. He growled in frustration before standing up with me in his arms.

"Bedroom," he commanded. "Now."

"Down the hall," I gasped as he carried me, my legs wrapped around his waist.

He kicked open the door to my bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. I bounced on the mattress, watching as he tore at his own clothes. His shirt buttons scattered across the floor in his haste. The sight of his bare chest, sculpted to perfection, made my mouth water.

When he pushed down his pants and boxers, his erection sprang free, thick and ready. I’d had him inside me less than an hour ago in the car, but my body craved him again like an addiction.

"Open your legs," he ordered, his voice dropping to that alpha timber that made it impossible to disobey.

I spread my thighs, exposing myself to him. His nostrils flared as he inhaled my scent, a growl of appreciation rumbling from his chest.

"Already wet for me again," he said, climbing onto the bed and positioning himself between my legs. "Is this all for me, Victoria?"

"Yes," I whispered, reaching for him.