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.

a fresh wave of desire crashing through me. I whimper, my thighs clenching tight as

as a low rumble builds in his chest. He takes a

racing down my spine. “I can smell your need from here. It’s taking everything I have not to take you

words, my body arching helplessly towards him. The heat is a living inferno now, an all–consuming blaze that threatens to reduce me to ashes if I don’t find

the word torn from my

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Virgin Heat

cry.

craving that consumes me from the inside out. But

“You need to be claimed, don’t you, little one? Filled

last.”

me over and over as he takes me with brutal, claiming force.

isn’t right, that Clayton isn’t my fated mate, no matter

No claiming.

3/7

Virgin Heat (1)

Just sex.

relief from all

But-

“We need… the guards.” I’m trying to

closer.

rumbling snarl builds in Clayton’s chest as he prowls closer, his eyes blazing like twin emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he counters, his tone laced

his hands slamming against the tile on either side of my head as he cages me in. I can feel the scorching heat of his body, can smell the heady, musky scent of his arousal mingling

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

on mine, swallowing my

of unrice as he kinnon me with

murarica na ha

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foracious

417

Virgin

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

in the taste of him, in the blazing heat of his kiss and the hard planes of his body pressed against mine. My fingers tangle in his hair,

away the

of his hands curls into my hair, yanking my head back

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