Eira’s POV
A wicked little temptress? Do I really look like that?
I frowned, squinting at him. "I am not."
"You are not?" His voice was a low whisper against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Let show you what you are... when you’re with ."
I hesitated, glancing back at him, only to find him pulling up from the table in one swift, unyielding movent. Startled, I ended up standing in front of the mirror, his chest pressed against my back. One of his hands circled my thin waist, holding firmly, impossibly tight yet protective.
His free hand tilted my face toward the mirror, fingers brushing my jaw. "See how beautiful you look like this, my little temptress," he murmured.
I stared at my reflection, utterly unrecognisable. My cheeks burned with heat, my lips swollen and red. The marks on my neck traced down further, subtle reminders of the intimacy we’d just shared. My nightdress had slipped off one shoulder, leaving my chest dangerously exposed, the fabric hanging haphazardly over . I looked anything but decent.
I had never seen myself this way before.
"Don’t tease ," I said, my voice low, my gaze snapping away from the mirror.
"I am praising you," he replied in the sa low, husky tone, matching my voice, his breath warm against my ear. "In fact, I want to see you like this... every ti we’re together."
I looked back at him through the mirror. "Will you be doing this every ti we et?"
"Maybe more than this," he replied, but added, "but we won’t mate until you are an adult. You won’t be able to take without having your wolf and I don’t wish to hurt you. You are precious. I will never hurt you."
His words, his reassurance, ward my heart. He cared.
But doubt crept in. I am a hybrid, and my grandparents said I was wolfless. What if I truly don’t have a wolf and it doesn’t show up when I’m an adult? What will I do then?
"What are you thinking?" His voice pulled back, commanding and sharp.
"You dare let your mind slip away sowhere," he said in a low, possessive tone, his gaze warning .
I wanted to deny it and shook my head. But his hand dangerously moved closer between my thighs, pushing the hem of my dress upward. My heart skipped a beat.
"You need to be punished for this," he murmured, dark and teasing.
I held his hand. "It’s not right..." Fear and embarrassnt flared in . He was about to uncover sothing utterly private to , to any woman.
He stilled, his eyes locking with mine in the mirror. "Have you ever touched yourself?"
My cheeks burned crimson. Damn, another bomb of utter embarrassnt he dropped. Why did he have to ask this?
"Answer , and I will decide whether to stop or go ahead," he demanded, unwavering.
I lowered my gaze and shook my head.
"Why?" His insistence cut through my hesitation.
"It’s embarrassing... and I felt scared..." I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It’s not," he said softly. "Look at ."
I obeyed, eting his intense gaze.
"That’s even more reason for to show you it’s not embarrassing or scary, but sothing you would enjoy," he murmured, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Though you are not an adult, you are not a child anymore. You are a woman, a shewolf at that. You should know what it is."
I had nothing to say. My throat went dry, my mind spinning.
"Let show you. I promise you won’t regret it. Trust ," he whispered, voice dripping with possessive certainty.
Slowly, I let go of the hand I had been clutching, surrendering to him, deciding to trust him.
He tilted my face toward his and pressed his lips to mine, a gentle kiss that distracted just long enough for his hand to wander further. His fingers slipped inside my panties, deliberate and teasing.
I flinched instinctively, but he murmured against my lips, "Don’t worry."
My heart slamd against my ribs, my stomach fluttering like a caged bird. My thighs clenched tightly, muscles coiling under his touch. My feet inched closer together, toes digging into the floor as if seeking so anchor.
And then I felt it—his touch, bold and possessive, tracing over my already wet folds. His long fingers moved with a skill that made shiver uncontrollably.
A erotic moan tore from my throat, but he captured my mouth with his, swallowing any protest before it could escape.
My hands clutched his, the one that wrapped around my shoulders, my entire body pressing into his for support.
"You are so wet already," he murmured between kisses, finally letting draw a shaky breath. But his fingers never stopped their work, gliding through my folds skilfully. Occasionally, they paused just long enough for his thumb to tease the most sensitive bundle of nerves, making tremble under his touch.
And then it hit —the aning behind every line I had ever read in those books, the way the female lead had felt. It was maddening, intoxicating, and my body craved it all the more. Every nerve, every fiber of wanted him to continue, to give more.
"It might feel a little uncomfortable," he murmured, his finger circling my entrance.
I knew exactly what he ant and let out a soft hum, mingled with the gentle moans escaping .
His finger inched inside slowly. I flinched for a mont, but my body responded, as if silently begging him to go deeper, to fill .
"So tight! Hot and wet," he whispered in my ear, his voice rough with desire. "Gosh! It would feel so perfect for my cock to dive in."
I barely registered his words. All my attention was consud by the movent of his finger, sliding in and out of with deliberate precision.
"Ah..." I gasped, unable to stop myself from nearly screaming in pleasure. The intensity was overwhelming, almost sinful. Sha and embarrassnt vanished, burned away by the fire coursing through .
His fingers did not relent. They moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart, each stroke sending shivers and jolts of fire through my body. My back arched instinctively against him, lips parting in ragged breaths as waves of heat and pleasure rolled over , leaving dizzy and trembling.
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