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 whimper, my thighs clenching tight as I

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

one,” he warns, his voice a low, gravelly purr that sends shivers racing down my spine. “I can smell your need from here. It’s taking everything I have

The heat is a living inferno now,

the word torn from my lips in a

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217

Ava: Virgin Heat

cry. “I need…”

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

clenching with fresh need. “You need to be claimed, don’t you, little one? Filled and bred

last.”

from my lips as images explode behind my eyes–Clayton pinning me down, 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, branding me as his mate from the

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

No claiming.

3/7

Ava: Virgin

Just sex.

relief from

But-

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

closer.

chest as he prowls closer, his eyes blazing like twin emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he counters, his

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

his breath fanning hot across my lips. “Let me claim

crashes down on mine,

he kinnon me with a

murarica na ha

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foracious

417

Virgin Heat

lips, stroking against mine in a blatant possession that has me arching into him with a desperate

him, in the blazing heat of his kiss and the hard planes of his body pressed

as the fire rages hotter, burning away the last

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

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