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.

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

low rumble builds in his chest. He takes a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate,

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

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 don’t find

word torn from my

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217

Ava: Virgin

keening cry. “I

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

has my core clenching with fresh need. “You need to be claimed, don’t you, little one? Filled

last.”

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

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

No claiming.

3/7

Virgin

Just sex.

from all

But-

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

closer.

snarl builds in Clayton’s chest as he prowls closer, his eyes blazing like twin emerald flames. “No guards, little one,” he counters, his tone laced with steel. “Just you… and

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 breath

down on mine,

unrice as he kinnon me

murarica na ha

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foracious

417

Virgin

past my lips, stroking against mine in a blatant

kiss and the hard planes of his body pressed against mine. My fingers tangle

away the last

yanking my

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