Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

Chapter 18

Damien’s POV 1

The moment Sera’s fingers tangled in my tie, pulling me close with desperate strength, every rational thought in my head simply…

stopped. The scent of her hit me like a physical blow.

Her emerald eyes, still glazed from whatever drug that bastard had given her, were fixed on my face with an intensity that made my

chest feel like it was being crushed in a vise.

“Please,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible but carrying enough desperate need to make my control snap like a breaking

chain.

“Hospital,” I managed to rasp, though the word felt like broken glass in my throat. “We need to get you to a hospital, make sure you’re

okay.”

But even as I said it, I was already pulling away from the curb, my hands shaking on the steering wheel as I fought against every instinct

that was screaming at me to pull over right here, right now, and claim what was mine.

“No,” Sera’s voice came out breathy and unfocused, her words slightly slurred despite her obvious effort to speak clearly. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, I saw her leaning forward, her emerald eyes dilated and burning with an intensity that had nothing to do with

clarity. “Not the hospital. Please, Damien. I’m burning… I need…”

Her hands were pressed against her chest, her breathing rapid and shallow as whatever drug that bastard had given her coursed through her system. The scent of her arousal hit me like a physical blow, sweet and intoxicating and absolutely devastating to my already fraying

control.

“Sera, you’re not thinking clearly,” I managed to rasp, even as Alex clawed frantically at my consciousness, howling with desperate need

as the mate bond between us pulled tighter with each passing second. “The drug-”

“I don’t care about the drug,” she whispered, her voice thick with need and confusion. “I just… God, Damien, it hurts. Everything hurts

except when I think about you touching me.”

My knuckles went white on the steering wheel. I pressed harder on the accelerator, but instead of heading toward the hospital, I found myself taking the turn toward the industrial district, toward the empty warehouses and deserted streets where no one would interrupt

The moment I pulled into an empty parking lot surrounded by dark warehouses, she was moving. With surprising grace despite her drugged state, she climbed over the center console, her movements fluid but unsteady, driven by pure instinct rather than conscious

thought.

then she was straddling my lap, her hands fisting desperately in my shirt, and every coherent

under the onslaught of her heat

face inches from mine, pupils blown wide with chemical desire. Her breath was warm

her body trembling with need. “I need you to make it

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her dress had ridden up to

at the base of her throat. My hands moved to her waist without

until there was no

want?” I asked, my voice barely recognizable as my

me like a punch to the solar plexus. “I want

control snapped like a breaking wire. My mouth crashed against hers, hungry and desperate

lips opening under mine as her nails dug into my shoulders through the fabric

tasted like wine and something indefinably sweet, something that was purely her, and

of her spine through the silk of her dress, while she made soft sounds against my

absolutely wild.

her lips, my voice rough with barely

Her teeth found my lower lip,

The drug had lowered her inhibitions, made

of her dress. She arched against me like

fabric whispered down her shoulders, revealing inch after inch of porcelain skin that seemed to

moonlight.

leaving her in nothing but black lace that contrasted

all control. My breathing was ragged, my pulse

name sounding like a prayer on her lips. Her hips

fire building between us. “Please… I

against me, the friction driving

but filled with raw need that made my control

her throat, my hands guiding her movements as she writhed

digging into my shoulders. “All of you. Make me forget everything

in the car. She

wanted without knowing it.

words slurred but desperate. “Damien…

Not gentle. Not careful. She wanted it

me that pale throat, and I nearly lost

yes,” she moaned, her nails scratching down

desperate, driving thrusts in the cramped