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.

of my name on his lips sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through

rumble builds in his chest. He

shivers racing down my spine. “I can smell your need

at his words, my 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

word torn from my

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Ava: Virgin Heat

keening cry. “I need…”

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

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

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

that it isn’t right, that Clayton isn’t my fated mate, no matter how badly my

No claiming.

3/7

Ava: Virgin

Just sex.

from

But-

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

closer.

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

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

of you, Ava,” he murmurs, his breath fanning hot across my

crashes down on mine, swallowing

unrice as he kinnon me with

murarica na ha

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foracious

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Virgin Heat (1)

in a blatant possession

hard planes of his body pressed against mine. My fingers tangle in his

fire rages hotter, burning away the last vestiges of my

hands curls into my hair, yanking my head back as

at the feel of rough, wet denim against my core. The friction is maddeningly delicious and I can’t quite get the