Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Ava: Gala (IV)

[WARNING: Mature Content]

________________________________

If someone had told me that, mere days after that incident with Todd, I'd be in a similar situation with a stranger and enjoying the fuck out of myself, I would have advised them to check in to a psych ward. That's not how trauma works.

But apparently it might.

Maybe it's just because he's so… Tall. Dark. Handsome. All the cliches you can dream, that's him. Especially when he makes no secret of his attraction toward me, despite all the harsh words Jessa and Mom had thrown my way while getting ready. Apparently this man doesn't think I'm too short, or that my hips are too wide.

He seems to like them a lot, actually.

So when I feel his tongue against my neck and realize that the sensation is completely different coming from someone like Tall, Dark, and Sexy, that primitive part of me goes absolutely wild.

That voice inside of me, the one that's absolutely me, tries to tell me that maybe I should step back and think for a second. That this connection is weird. That I don't act like this, and I should really respect myself more.

But the throbbing down below tells that voice to shut the fuck up and move over, that he's my fated, and then it asks him to slam me against a wall.

I have no idea where that level of bravado came from, and when my back hits the rough bark of the tree to add more bruises to my body, desire floods everything in a way even romance novels hadn't prepared me for.

Oh sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Sweet Moon Goddess. This man is magic.

Feeling the hard length of him shoved against the very core of me should have me running for the hills, and it doesn't. Nope. I arch closer instead, aching and begging for more, peppering kisses along his jaw and rolling my hips toward him.

I moan in appreciation when he pushes back, almost inside me if my damn panties could just spontaneously combust and get out of the way, but the moan changes to frustration as his hips pull back.

Then his fingers are there, yanking my panties to the side as he slides his cock up the wet lips of my pussy, and oh my God.

So warm.

So hard.

and fuck me

Please.

have marks all over my neck and shoulders, and my breasts ache to be touched, but everything's kind of busy on my lower half as I pray

and down again, soaking himself in the juices I can feel running everywhere. I'm probably wetter than a slip'n'slide,

he slams his hips into

his hand returns to my hair, yanking my head back in an act of submission that should have

Hurt me, please. Fuck.

and hum as I rock against him harder, the pain doing sinful things

over the cliff that I cleared

mouth slants over mine, hot and hard as

something warm spreading against my abdomen. I can feel the sharp pain in my lip and know I'm

limbs grow heavy as

but—he's also a stranger who admitted to stalking me out here.

want him to. I want him

Oh, my God.

like a freight train, and I can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I just let a complete stranger dry hump

feel his hands on me again, but this time, they're gentle. He carefully adjusts my dress as best he can, despite the semen sticky against my abdomen. He does his best to pull it back into place and smooth out the wrinkles.

loving, that it makes my heart ache in a way I've

myself tilting my head up to meet him halfway, desire tingling down my spine once again, as though I hadn't gotten it out of my system just moments before. Our

His phone.

his pocket to retrieve the offending device. I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at

this," he says, his voice low and

silence, watching as he steps away to answer the call. My mind is still reeling from what just happened, and I can't seem to

to come back? Do I run away and pretend this never happened? My heart is telling me to stay, but my brain is screaming at me to get the hell out of here. Plus,

know who I am, and oh my God, he's the alpha of the Westwood pack. I can't possibly

belated recall of his introduction when he returns, his expression unreadable. He takes my hand in his, and all the gentleness has disappeared. His eyes are

Oh my God.

after all. This is a hump and run. Son of a

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255