Tangled

41 Ava: Virgin Heat (1)

41 Ava: Virgin Heat (I)

I brace myself against the slick tiles, my chest heaving with harsh, ragged breaths as Clayton’s eyes blaze into mine. The heat between us is a living, breathing thing, a palpable force that crackles in the air like an electric

current.

“Clayton,” I manage, my voice a breathless rasp. “We need to… call the guards.”

My words would probably have a little more punch if I wasn’t still working my fingers between my thighs. His eyes fall from my face to my hands, and he steps

forward.

A thrill rushes through me, and I spread my legs a little farther. “The guards,” I prompt, even as I bring myself to yet another orgasm, panting as my face flushes with

its heat.

I want his fingers, not mine.

I want his tongue, not his fingers.

I want his cock, not his tongue.

I want…

14:50

1177

41 Ava: Virgin Heat (1)

Fuck, I can’t handle this.

His nostrils flare at the sound of my voice, his jaw clenching as a muscle ticks in his chiseled cheek. I can see the war raging within him, the primal alpha instincts battling against his ironclad control.

name on his lips sends a fresh wave of

darkening to smoky jade as a low rumble builds in his chest. He takes a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator

my spine. “I can smell your need from here. It’s taking everything I have

heat is a living inferno now, an all–consuming blaze that threatens to reduce me to ashes if I don’t find

I beg, the word torn from my lips

14:50

217

Ava: Virgin Heat

cry.

voice the craving that consumes me from the inside out. But Clayton seems to understand, his eyes glittering with a feral

fresh need. “You need to be claimed, don’t you, little one? Filled and bred until that delicious heat

last.”

spearing into me over and over as he takes me with brutal, claiming force. His knot swelling

small, rational part of me knows that it isn’t right, that Clayton isn’t my fated mate, no matter how badly my instincts are screaming for me to let him claim me.

No claiming.

3/7

Virgin

Just sex.

from all this.

But-

cracking with strain. “We need… the guards.” I’m trying to maintain rationality, and yet I hold out my

closer.

twin emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he counters, his tone laced with steel.

of his body, can smell the heady,

murmurs, his breath fanning hot across my lips. “Let

crashes down on

he kinnon

murarica na ha

14:56

foracious

417

Ava: Virgin Heat

past my lips, stroking against mine in a blatant possession that has me

the blazing heat of his kiss and the hard planes of his body pressed against mine. My fingers tangle

as the fire rages hotter, burning away the

my hair, yanking

a way that makes my hips buck. He slides one jean–clad leg between mine, and I grind down immediately, groaning at the feel of rough, wet denim against my core. The friction is maddeningly delicious and I can’t quite get the angle for my clit, frustrating me to