Eira’s POV
I nodded again, my heart hamring so hard I thought he could feel it against his chest.
"Words!" His voice was low, commanding, and impossibly intoxicating.
"I... want to," I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
I ant it—I had always wondered how it felt, and after reading that book, the curiosity had only grown, igniting sothing fierce and desperate inside .
His fingers tightened slightly on my chin, tilting my face to his, and without a second’s warning, his lips crashed onto mine. This kiss was nothing like our first. That one was gentle, patient, exploring. This—this was raw, unrelenting, as though he had been starving for .
His mouth moved over mine with a force that stole my breath, his tongue teasing mine, claiming, marking, leaving gasping. I was trapped between the mirror behind and his tall, powerful body before , utterly consud by the intensity of his desire.
I responded with equal hunger, tasting him, inhaling his scent, feeling every bit of it. His hands road over my back, slipping beneath my nightdress, tracing the delicate skin that shivered beneath his touch.
My own hands clutched the sides of his shirt, grounding myself, keeping up with the rhythm of his desperate, demanding kiss. I wanted him to know how much I had missed him, craved him, needed him.
His lips parted just enough to whisper against my lips. "Every mont away from you was driving crazy..." his voice rough, almost ragged. "All I wanted... was to return to you, to have you whole...It’s all your fault... now you have to make up for it."
My dewy eyes t his, and I saw it there—the Alpha, filled with hunger, raw lust, demanding more than just a kiss. And I was no different.
A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest, vibrating against as he captured my lips again, fiercer this ti, teeth grazing, biting, tasting, claiming, my body pressed into him entirely.
Slowly, deliberately, he moved, his mouth trailing down my neck, licking, sucking, grazing with teeth in the most exquisite tornt. A moan slipped from before I could stop it, and I covered my mouth with my hand, cheeks burning.
"Your grandparents are not ho," he murmured, teeth sinking lightly into my skin, teasing, leaving little marks. "No one can hear you but . Let hear you."
He bit harder, more insistently this ti, and I could no longer hold back. My hands fell away from my mouth, and I surrendered to the sounds escaping . Embarrassed, helpless, utterly undone, I couldn’t stay quiet with the way he was touching , awakening every nerve, every secret craving I had buried inside.
His hand moved toward the buttons of my nightdress at my chest, and instinctively, I gripped his wrist. A flicker of fear mixed with embarrassnt shot through , but he didn’t falter.
He paused, his gaze locking with mine, dark and unreadable, before the sa hand slid over my breast, cupping it firmly and squeeze it, letting know what I was going to miss feeling.
A shiver ran through , and a soft moan escaped. His thumb circled over my hardened nipple, teasing. "Still don’t want it?" he asked, voice low and dangerous, leaving exposed, speechless, utterly at his rcy.
Then, unexpectedly, he lifted with ease, seating on the edge of the study table by the window. With a casual sweep, he pushed the books aside, letting them clatter to the floor. Taking my silence as permission, he leaned closer, lips brushing mine in gentle, coaxing pecks. "It’s alright," he murmured, and with deliberate slowness, parted the sides of my top, revealing further.
My breath hitched, ragged and shallow, as his eyes road over my chest. A part of wanted to cover myself, but his gaze silenced any protest.
"Beautiful," he whispered as he gazed my soft and round breasts and pushed slightly back, my hands bracing against the table.
He leaned forward, both hands planted on either side of , trapping in between them. "Reminded of sothing?" he asked.
Of course it did. That book, the one I’d read and imagined endlessly—the male lead had done the sa. And we both knew where it led next.
His hand slid over my cheek, fingers threading through my hair until they settled at the back of my head. A sharp tug of hair made arch my neck, a sting of pain mingling with a thrill.
My pulse raced, my body already aching for more. Damn, I thought, I am such a lustful pervert, lost in my own teenage fantasies.
His mouth descended hungrily, lips and teeth grazing the soft curve of my neck, tracing a path down to my chest. One hand cupped my breast, his mouth devouring the other.
I gasped, loud and unrestrained, followed by a moan that surprised even .
What was he doing to ?
I could swear I felt his lips curved into smile smile against my skin as he paused, before sinking back to claim it again. His lips moved with rciless intent, sucking, nipping, leaving trembling and breathless under him.
Slowly, deliberately, he parted my legs, positioning himself between them. He pressed further onto the table, continuing his sweet assault on my breast, taking turns on each one of them.
With my back arched, I had no choice but to surrender, my defenses crumbling under the heat of the mont. My hands clutched his shoulders, trying to steady myself against the dangerous pleasure coursing through . My legs moved on their own, wrapping instinctively around him, pulling him closer without thought.
God, I wanted him—wanted him so close, so unbearably near—and the thought both thrilled and terrified .
After a while, he pulled back slightly, lifting his gaze to et mine. His eyes were dark, smoldering, and impossible to look away from.
"You look exactly the way I’ve imagined every night," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "a wicked little temptress."
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