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.

sound of my name on his lips sends a fresh wave of

to smoky jade as a low rumble builds in his chest. He takes a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

low, gravelly purr that sends shivers racing down my

him. The heat is a living inferno now, an all–consuming blaze that threatens to

torn from

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Virgin Heat (1)

cry.

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

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

last.”

me with brutal, claiming

everything my body craves, everything this maddening heat demands. But some small, rational 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

Virgin Heat

Just sex.

relief from all

But-

I’m trying to maintain rationality, and yet I hold out

closer.

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

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

his breath fanning

on mine,

he kinnon me with a

murarica na ha

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foracious

417

Virgin Heat

His tongue plunges past my lips, stroking against mine in a blatant possession that has me

the hard planes of his body pressed

fire rages hotter, burning away the last vestiges of my control.

yanking my head back as he plunders my mouth.

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