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.

fresh wave of desire crashing through me. I

low rumble builds in his chest. He takes a step forward, his movements slow and

his voice a low, gravelly purr that sends shivers racing down my spine. “I can smell your need from here.

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

the word torn from my lips

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Ava: Virgin Heat

cry.

can’t 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

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

last.”

spearing into me over and over as he takes me with brutal, claiming force. His knot swelling inside me, locking us together as he floods me with his seed,

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

Ava: Virgin

Just sex.

from all

But-

“We need… the guards.” I’m trying to maintain rationality, and

closer.

chest as he prowls closer, his eyes blazing like twin emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he counters, his tone laced with steel. “Just you…

in two long strides, 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 with mine in the steamy air. He’s soaked from the water, and I struggle with the urge to lick every

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

down on mine,

as he kinnon me with

murarica na ha

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foracious

417

Virgin Heat

a blatant possession that has me arching into him with a

heat of his kiss and the hard planes of his body

burning away the last vestiges of my

curls into my hair, yanking my head back

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