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.

he growls, and the sound of my name on his lips sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through me. I whimper,

jade as a low rumble builds in his chest. He

fire, little 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 not to take you right

him. The heat is a living inferno now, an all–consuming blaze that threatens to reduce me to ashes if I

beg, the word torn from my lips in

14:50

217

Ava: Virgin

cry. “I

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

core clenching with fresh need. “You need to be claimed, don’t

last.”

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

rational part of me knows that it isn’t right,

No claiming.

3/7

Ava: Virgin Heat (1)

Just sex.

relief from all

But-

strain. “We need… the guards.” I’m trying

closer.

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

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

his breath fanning hot across my lips. “Let me claim what’s mine.”

on

he kinnon me with a

murarica na ha

14:56

foracious

417

Virgin Heat

against mine in a blatant possession that has me arching into him with

his kiss and the hard planes

the fire rages hotter, burning away the last vestiges of

of his hands curls into my hair, yanking 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