Tangled
Chapter 40
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 struggle to stay standing.
in his chest. He takes a step
gravelly purr that sends shivers racing down my spine. “I can smell your need from here. It’s taking everything I have
is a living inferno now, an
torn from my
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Ava: Virgin Heat (1)
keening cry.
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
need your alpha,” he finishes, his tone a 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
last.”
me with brutal, claiming force. His knot swelling inside me, locking us together as
me knows that it isn’t right, that Clayton isn’t
No claiming.
3/7
Ava: Virgin
Just sex.
from all this.
But-
with 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,
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
he murmurs, his breath fanning hot across my
mouth crashes down on
he kinnon me
murarica na ha
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foracious
417
Virgin
against mine in a blatant possession that has me arching into him with
in the blazing heat of his kiss and the hard
as the fire rages hotter, burning away the
my hair, yanking my head back
pressing against my lower abdomen in 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 denim against my core. The friction is maddeningly delicious and I can’t quite get the angle for my clit, frustrating
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