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…

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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.

wave of desire

in on the motion, 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 stalking its

purr that sends shivers racing down my spine. “I can smell your

at his words, my body arching helplessly towards him. The heat is a living inferno now, an all–consuming blaze that threatens

word torn

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Virgin Heat

keening cry.

bring myself to say it, to voice the craving that consumes me from the inside out. But Clayton seems to understand, his eyes glittering with a feral light as he takes another

promise that has my core clenching with fresh need. “You need to be claimed, don’t you, little one? Filled and bred until

last.”

as images explode behind my eyes–Clayton pinning me down, spearing into me over and over as he takes me with brutal,

But some 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

No claiming.

3/7

Virgin Heat

Just sex.

relief from all this.

But-

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

closer.

emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he

heat of his body, can smell the heady, musky scent of his arousal mingling with mine in the

me take care of you, Ava,” he murmurs, his breath fanning hot across my lips.

down on mine, swallowing my

of unrice as he kinnon me with a

murarica na ha

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foracious

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Ava: Virgin Heat (1)

mine in a blatant possession that has

hard planes of his body

the fire rages hotter, burning away the last vestiges

into my hair, yanking my head back as he plunders my mouth.

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