Novels by Dera NK

The impact cracked through the silent room. My head snapped back, and the force knocked me off my feet, sending me crashing into the weapon rack. Blood filled my mouth as it streamed from my nose, running over my upper lip and down my chin.I staggered to my knees, coughing violently, staring up through a haze of pain and stars.Kael stood over me, his chest heaving, his knuckles already slick with my blood. The amber fire in his eyes burned with a rage I hadn't seen since we fought together on the frontlines."Shut your fucking mouth, Lucien," Kael growled, his voice trembling with a terrifying, quiet fury as he leaned down, gripping the front of my collar to drag me halfway back up. "You don't get to speak her name right now. Not after what you just did.""I was going to tell her!" I spat back, wiping a hand across my mouth, smearing the fresh blood into my stubble. "I was on my way to talk to her, Kael!""Talk to her?" Kael threw me backward, letting me slam against the stone floor

I stepped back even farther, the sudden loss of her warmth sending a sharp, icy chill through my veins. The air between us felt heavy, charged with the lingering electricity of a kiss that had completely shattered my resolve.I stared at her.My mind was a complete battleground. Every logical part of me knew what I was supposed to say. I knew the exact words that would sever the sacred string tying our souls together. I opened my mouth to speak, to force the words past my teeth and put an end to the madness before it consumed us both.I, Lucien, reject—The words died in my throat.Nothing came out. My jaw locked, my throat tightening as if a physical hand were gripping my windpipe. The image of her softly touching my hand, the quiet grace with which she was offering to sacrifice her own happiness, and the intoxicating, undeniable pull of that kiss rushed back through my mind all at once.I couldn't do it.I stood there like a coward, staring at the woman who had done nothing but suff

Lucien's POV"What favor?" I asked, my voice rough as I broke the silence.Stella took a slow step toward me, her eyes fixed on mine. “Just one kiss,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Please. Just one real kiss from you before you break the bond.”She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. “I know it won't change anything. I know you'll still leave. But when the bond is gone and I can't feel you anymore, I want something to remember. Just one thing that was mine. I want to know what it felt like to kiss my mate, even if you never wanted me back.”A sad smile touched her lips, as if she were trying to make the request seem easier than it was.I stared at her, completely frozen. My mind shouted at me to step back, to say no, to put an absolute end to this before it crossed another line. But the mate bond, sensing her raw vulnerability, surged violently beneath my skin. My wolf clawed at the surface, practically roaring inside my chest, deafening every rational thought I had left.K

"It is," I cut her off, unable to look her in the eye.I couldn't look at her without seeing the threat she inadvertently posed to Elara. I couldn't look at her without feeling the pull of a bond I never asked for, calling to a part of me I was fiercely trying to lock away. But as my harsh words settled over the room, guilt followed. Stella hadn't asked for any of this. She hadn't done anything to Elara, and she didn't deserve my anger.The bond gave a sharp pull in my chest, and I caught the hurt in her expression before she hid it."I'm sorry," I murmured.Stella paused with her hand on the brass handle."I shouldn't have snapped at you," I murmured, my voice losing its bitter edge as the lingering adrenaline drained out of me. "None of this mess is your fault, Stella. You didn't do anything wrong."She stood still for a long beat, letting the heavy apology settle. Then, stepping through the broken glass without a second thought, she closed the distance between us.She reached out,

"Say that again," I snarled, my voice dropping into a low growl that seemed to rattle the windows. "Look me in the eye and say those fucking words again, Damon."Damon choked, grabbing my wrist as his eyes widened at the lethal shift in my demeanor. His Alpha instincts urged him to fight back, but the sheer malice coming off me kept him frozen. "You sit in my home," I spat, tightening my grip until his breath hitched, "and you look at her scars like they make her lesser. You think strength is barking orders and throwing your weight around? You have no idea what it takes to survive what she did."I bared my teeth, the pulse in my neck hammering as I leaned closer, until our foreheads nearly touched. "I wasn't there to save my sister when bastards like you decided she wasn't 'enough' for the throne," I whispered, leaning in until our foreheads almost touched, my eyes burning amber. "I had to watch her pick up the pieces afterward. But I am standing right here now. And I swear on the Moo

Lucien's POVI almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of the question, but the cold weight in my chest killed the sound before it could reach my throat.“Are you out of your mind?” My voice was quiet, dangerously so, but the threat underneath was plain as day. “Elara isn't just 'supposed' to become Luna. She is Luna. I’d be very careful about the next words out of your mouth, Damon. Friend or not.”Damon didn’t flinch. As the Alpha of Silverpine, he was used to posturing, but the cold stillness in his eyes told me he wasn't trying to start a fight for the sake of it—he was laying out a brutal, unfiltered truth as he saw it.“Look at her, Lucien. Really look at her,” Damon said, his voice entirely devoid of sympathy. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze locking onto mine with ruthless clarity. “She’s weak. She carries herself like a survivor who’s constantly waiting for the next strike, not a leader who commands a room. Every time she speaks, she sounds hesitan

أشرقت وجوه الفتيات بالفرح.ألقت "ليرا" ذراعيها حول عنقي دون سابق إنذار. "شكراً لكِ يا أمي".تبعتها "ماريا" بعد ثانية، كادت تُسقطنا جميعاً. "نحن أجمل أميرتين في القطيع!"ضحكت وأنا أثبتهما: "احترسا. الأميرات اللواتي يتجعد فستانهن قبل بدء الحفل سيتعرضن للتوبيخ".وقوبل ذلك بضحكات متناغمة.وقبل أن تتمكن أي منهما من البدء في جدال جديد حول أي أميرة تتفوق على الأخرى، طُرِق الباب. وبعد ثانية، فُتح الباب بقوة."هل هن جاهزات بعد؟"تردد صدى صوت "لوسيان" في الردهة.رد "كايل": "من الواضح لا. لو كن جاهزات، لكنا الآن في الطابق الأسفل".بينما وقف "رايكر" صامتاً، متكئاً على الباب.اندفع التوائم الأربعة إلى الأمام على الفور."العم لوسيان!""العم كايل!""العم رايكر!"كاد الأولاد أن يطرحوهم أرضاً. أمسك "لوسيان" بـ "نواه" قبل أن يصطدم به. وحمل "كايل" "ماريا" بين ذراعيه بكل سهولة. بينما رفع "رايكر" "ليرا" في حين تعلق "كايوس" بساقه مثل "كوالا" عازم.قال "لوسيان" متظاهراً بفحصهن بدقة: "حسناً، انظروا إليكم أنتم الأربعة. تبدون أنيقين بشكل مفاجئ".أخبرته "ماريا": "نحن نبدو جيدين دائماً".زمخر "كايل": "هذه بالتأك

**ماتيو** شددتُ أصابعي حول الكأس حتى كاد أن ينكسر. "ماتيو؟" اخترق صوت "سيلين" الضجيج في رأسي. رمشتُ بعيني. كانت قد توقفت على بعد خطوات قليلة، ولا تزال "روز" تقبض على الرسمة بجانبها، وتراقبني بذلك التعبير الحذر وغير المأكد الذي يرتديه الأطفال عندما يشعرون أن هناك شيئًا خاطئًا لكنهم لا يفهمون ماهيته بعد. تفرست عينا "سيلين" في وجهي: "هل أنت بخير؟" بالطبع، لم أكن كذلك. لكن الكلمات التي خرجت كانت مُدربة وتلقائية: "أنا بخير". أمالت "روز" رأسها: "هل أعجبك؟" كان ذلك الصوت الصغير ناعمًا ومليئًا بالأمل. زفرتُ. ثم جثوتُ على ركبتي، فقط بالقدر الكافي لأكون في مستوى طول "روز". انخفضت نظراتي إلى الشمس الملتوية مرة أخرى. سألتُ بهدوء: "…أنتِ صنعتِ هذا؟" أومأت "روز" بسرعة: "نعم! رسمتُنا جميعًا. انظر، هذا أنت في المنتصف. أنت الأكبر لأنك الألفا." تحرك شيء ما داخل صدري. دافئ بشكل غير عادل. مددت يدي وأخذت الورق المقوى من يديها الصغيرتين. ثم ابتلعت ريقي وتحدثت بصوت أخشن مما كنت أنوي: "إنه… جيد." رمشت "روز": "جيد؟" تجمدت ابتسامة "سيلين"، ثم ارتعشت شفتاها بخفة، كما لو كانت تستعد لشيء ما. أجبرت

**ماتيو**لقد مرّت خمس سنوات منذ أن رفضت "لارا" ونفيتها من القطيع. خمس سنوات لَعينة منذ وقفتُ أمام إلهة القمر، وقطعتُ الرابطة التي منحتني إياها، وأقنعتُ نفسي بأنني أفعل الصواب. خمس سنوات منذ أن جعلتُ "سيلين" "لونا" (شريكتي) الخاصة بي، ومنحتُ القطيع ما ادعى الجميع أنهم بحاجة إليه: وريثًا قويًا. ابنة.ومع ذلك، لم يمر يوم واحد أستطيع فيه أن أقول بصدق إنني كنت سعيدًا. في البداية، استهلكني الشعور بالذنب. كان في كل مكان. في كل زاوية من بيت القطيع. في كل اجتماع. في كل لحظة هدوء قبل النوم.كان ذئبي، "ستورم"، قد سقط في حالة حداد دائمة منذ اليوم الذي رحلت فيه "لارا". وبغض النظر عن مدى إلحاحي عليه، رفض المضي قدمًا—رفض قبول شريكة أخرى—رفض النسيان.أصبح التحول إلى ذئب تعذيبًا.كان كل تغيير تتكسر فيه العظام يبدو كآلاف الإبر المحترقة التي تُغرز تحت جلدي. لم يستطع معالجو القطيع تفسير ذلك.كان الشيوخ يسمونه "توترًا".لم يفهموا أن "ستورم" كان لا يزال يندب رحيلها، وكان يتأكد تمامًا من أنني أشعر بكل ثانية من ذلك الألم.ثم عندما أنجبت "سيلين" ابنتنا، ظننت أن الأمور ستتغير أخيرًا. أقنعتُ نفسي أنه بمجرد اكت

(غيرت اسم ليتل لوسيان إلى نوح لفهم أوضح) ركعتُ على ركبتي، وأحطتُ بأذرعي أكبر عدد ممكن منهم. بادلتني ثماني أذرع صغيرة العناق بقوة مدهشة—فجِراء الذئاب، حتى في سن الخامسة، لم يكونوا يومًا هشين حقًا."كيف كان يومكم في المدرسة؟" سألتُ، على الرغم من أنني كنت قد سمعت بالفعل نسخة إبداعية للغاية عن يومهم عبر شبكة مراسلي القطيع."كانت المدرسة رائعة! تعلمنا الكثير!" بادر "نوح" بالكلام أولًا، وقد نفخ صدره وكأنه اكتشف المعرفة ذاتها، بينما أومأ الآخرون برؤوسهم بقوة لدرجة أنني خشيت أن تنكسر أعناقهم الصغيرة من الحماس."همم،" تمتمتُ، وأنا أضيق عيني قليلًا.حدقت فيَّ أربعة وجوه بريئة بنفس التعبيرات المتطابقة تمامًا. النوع الذي يعني دائمًا أن هناك مشكلة ما قد تم إخفاؤها بنجاح.تركت الصمت يطول قليلًا قبل أن أتحدث: "سنناقش مسألة أن نكون أقل إرهاقًا للمسؤولة "لوسي" المسكينة عندما نصل إلى المنزل".ارتفع أنين جماعي درامي منهم في وقت واحد.وقفتُ، وأنفض الغبار عن ركبتي، وأومأت برأسي قليلًا للمسؤولة "لوسي". قلت بلطف: "شكرًا على يومكم".بدت وكأنها تريد قول المزيد—ربما تقرير آخر—لكنها اكتفت بابتسامة متكلفة وقالت

في غضون خمس سنوات فقط، تغير الكثير. قبل أربع سنوات، كنت أشغل منصب "ألفا" قطيع "فروست فانغ". وفي نفس ذلك الوقت تقريبًا، رحل "رايكر" ليؤسس قطيعه الخاص—قطيع "سيلفر ميست".في البداية، شعرت بالذنب حيال ذلك. كان بإمكانه البقاء كألفا لقطيع "فروست فانغ" لو أراد؛ فقد كان القطيع يحترمه بالفعل، والأساس كان موجودًا. لكنه اختار الرحيل وبناء شيء من لا شيء. وعندما سألته عن قراره، ضحك ببساطة وقال: "اللقب ملك لك. علاوة على ذلك، أريد أن أعرف ما إذا كان بإمكاني الوصول إلى القمة بمفردي".وقد فعل ذلك.في بضع سنوات قصيرة، نما "سيلفر ميست" من قطيع بلا اسم يعاني من الصعوبات إلى واحد من أقوى القطعان في القارة. أصبح الآن يحتل المرتبة الثامنة بين جميع القطعان المعروفة، وهو مركز قضى العديد من "الألفا" المخضرمين عقودًا في محاولة الوصول إليه وفشلوا. لم تفاجئني نجاحاته بقدر ما كان ينبغي؛ فقد كان "رايكر" يمتلك دائمًا عادة مزعجة في تحقيق أي شيء يعقد العزم عليه.أما بالنسبة لي، فقد اتخذت حياتي اتجاهًا مختلفًا تمامًا.بعد عامين من الولادة، غادرت أراضي القطيع وقضيت عدة أشهر في مدينة بشرية. ولأن الكشف عن هويتي الحقيقية ل

كانت الأشهر التي تلت ذلك بمثابة دوامة من الإفراط في الحماية.نما بطني بشكل أسرع مما توقعه أي شخص. وبحلول الشهر السادس، أكد أطباء القطيع ما استشعره أفراد عائلتي بطريقة ما طوال الوقت: كنت أحمل توائم رباعية. فتاتان وفتيان.كاد والدي يغمى عليه من شدة السعادة، بينما أصبح إخوتي أكثر حماية لي بشراسة من ذي قبل. وتحت مراقبتهم المستمرة ورعاية أفضل المعالجين في القطيع، خضع حملي لمراقبة دقيقة. لم أكن وحيدة أبدًا؛ فقد عدّل "رايكر" مهام القطيع ليبقى أقرب إلى المنزل، وتولى "كايل" شخصيًا الإشراف على أمني وتغذيتي، بينما تحول "لوسيان" إلى أكثر الأعمام المستقبليين دلالًا وإثارة للضحك، حيث كان يحضر لي الهدايا باستمرار ويروي قصصًا مبالغ فيها للأطفال عبر بطني.حتى الغرفة المجاورة لغرفتي في الجناح الشرقي تم تحويلها بالكامل إلى حضانة؛ أربعة أسرة أطفال جميلة مصطفة تحت سقف مرسوم عليه القمر والنجوم. وكان "كايل" قد اختبر شخصيًا كل قطعة أثاث للتأكد من سلامتها.وضعت أطفالي في ليلة شتوية صافية، قبل أسبوعين من الموعد المتوقع، محاطة بأفضل المعالجين والأطباء الذين يمكن لقطيع "فروست فانغ" استدعاؤهم.بدأت آلام المخاض ال

Isolde's POV I closed my eyes and tried to picture the life Aunt Linda had described. A small cottage somewhere in the human territories, far from pack borders and lunar laws. Sunlight filtering through lace curtains instead of iron-barred windows. Warm bread straight from an oven, not stale crusts tossed like scraps to a dog. No more cold hands pinning me down in the dark. No more mocking laughter as I broke beneath him. But every sweet image was chased away by the shadow of Ryder’s face—his cold, grief-hardened eyes, the way his jaw tightened when he looked at me like I was both salvation and curse. Time crawled. I flinched at every footstep echoing in the corridor, certain it was him returning for another round of punishment before I could slip away. At some point, exhaustion pulled me into a fitful doze. Nightmares flickered behind my eyelids—Ryder’s hands around my throat, his voice snarling that I would never escape him, that I belonged in this cage until my la

--- Isolde's POV Ryder returned to me—sometimes slipping into the room in the dead of night, other times appearing at the first gray light of dawn. There was never tenderness in his touch. No lingering kisses, no whispered words of comfort. He took me like I was nothing more than a vessel for his grief and fury—an object crafted solely for his rage and release. One night, he dragged me onto the bed and made me straddle him while he lounged back against the pillows, hands lazily laced behind his head. The dim lantern light cast harsh shadows across his sharp features as he watched me with that chilling, detached amusement. My thighs—already bruised and trembling—burned with exhaustion as I moved. “Faster,” he ordered, voice low and mocking. “Show me how badly you want to earn your next meal, little mate.” Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the sweat that clung to my skin. My raw, aching core protested with every desperate drop of my hips. The pain was sharp. I bit

**Disclaimer:** This story contains dark romance themes including explicit non-consensual sexual content, violence, forced marking/bonding, emotional abuse, revenge, and psychological trauma. It is intended for mature adult readers only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. --- **Chapter Six: Isolde** Ryder’s fist remained buried in my hair, yanking my head back so sharply that pain exploded across my scalp. Tears pricked my eyes as I was forced to meet his cold, storm-grey gaze—the same eyes I had once loved with every foolish piece of my heart. A cruel, twisted smile slowly curved his lips. It held no warmth, only pure, calculated malice. “Since you’ve always been so desperate to replace your twin,” he said, voice low and dripping with venom, “and I’ve already marked you like the pathetic substitute you are… it’s time, Isolde.” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear as his breath burned against my skin. “Tonight is our mating night. You’ll spread your legs like the whore you a

Isolde’s POV I once believed I would spend the rest of my life rotting away in that cell—a fitting punishment for my unforgivable sins. But I had almost forgotten who Ryder truly was. He would never grant me the mercy of a slow, quiet death. That would be far too simple for him. Early the next morning, rough hands dragged me from my cell and hauled me to his chambers. I was forced to wait for him like a condemned prisoner awaiting judgment. My body betrayed me instantly; a violent tremor ran through my limbs as dread crashed over me in icy waves. His chambers were larger than I had imagined, yet strangely sparse. The simplicity of it unsettled me. Ryder’s taste had always leaned toward darkness, but this felt… hollow. Cold. Back when we were teenagers, he was obsessed with anything dark and gloomy, while I lived for bright colors—especially pink and anything that sparkled. Our school uniform was a hideous mix of orange and red that I secretly despised. But Ryder, being Ry

Isolde’s POVMy knees buckled, the world spinning around me in a dizzy blur. I barely registered Ryder stepping back before my body collapsed with a sickening thud against the cold, hard floor.Rough hands seized my arms before I could catch my breath."Take her to the west wing," Ryder’s voice cut through the air, low and emotionless.The guards didn’t hesitate. They hoisted me up like a rag doll, their grip bruising. I struggled to match their long, urgent strides, but my legs refused to cooperate. I stumbled again, my knees scraping stone, my skin tearing against the harsh floor.Gasps echoed.Whispers followed.“Is that Isla?”“How will I know? They both look the same anyway!” “Alpha didn't call her Isla when he came in” “No… that’s the other one—Isolde.”“She must have done something unforgivable…”Soon, we reached the west wing. They threw me inside like I was filth—nothing more than a stain on their pristine pack floors. The door slammed behind me.The west wing was still par

Isolde's Pov My heart shattered and it felt as if my world had collapsed right in before my very eyes. My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears fall. Not here. I can't cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of her. Ryder noticed me. His face lit up with that same smile he used to reserve for me. He walked over and gently took my hand. Like nothing had happened. “Finally,” he said like I was late for something beautiful. “I’ve been waiting for you.” My throat tightened. “What’s going on?”, My voice barely came out. It cracked like something inside me was breaking in slow motion. He let go of my hand. Then he turned and wrapped his arm around Isla’s waist, “I know it’s strange, reintroducing someone you’ve known your whole life,” he said with a laugh. “Especially when that someone’s your twin sister.” Then he looked at Isla. Eyes soft. Adoring, “Meet Isla,” he said. “My Mate and girlfriend.” Mate. That word hit like a knife under the ribs. The word

MARIAI woke up slowly, my body heavy and aching in the most delicious, filthy way. A deep soreness throbbed between my legs, radiating through my thighs, my hips, and deep inside my pussy. Every muscle felt used and claimed. I shifted under the sheets and felt the sticky remnants of last night—dried cum on my skin, my folds still tender and slick.I blinked against the soft morning light and looked down at myself. My breasts were covered in dark hickeys and bite marks. More bruises bloomed along my neck, my hips, and the sensitive insides of my thighs. I traced one with my fingertips and shivered at the memory.I had seriously done it. I’d fucked two guys exactly like I’d dared myself. And fuck… it had been the best sex of my entire life. Raw. Intense. Overwhelming. Being claimed so completely by two powerful men at once was something I would remember for a long time. A filthy, perfect rebound.A small, satisfied smile curved my lips, but it quickly faded as reality crept in. Embarra

Viktor’s hands were on my hips again, gripping me with that fierce, possessive strength that always made my pulse race. He held me steady while Marco’s mouth claimed mine in a searing, hungry kiss. His tongue slid against mine, slow and deep, tasting of whiskey and raw masculine heat. I moaned shamelessly into his mouth, my lips parting wider as he devoured me, his stubble scraping deliciously against my skin. “That’s it, mate,” Marco growled against my lips, his voice low and rough. “Open up for your alphas” Viktor pressed the thick, heavy head of his cock against my slick entrance from behind, teasing me mercilessly. He didn’t rush. Inch by torturous inch, he pushed forward, stretching my tight walls around his impressive girth until every ridge and vein dragged against my sensitive flesh. My knees nearly buckled when he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls pressed tight against my ass. The overwhelming fullness made me whimper desperately into Marco’s mouth. “Fuck, feel how s

The words hung in the air, and I felt my own cock throb in response. Marco’s fingers were already spreading her folds, revealing the slick, rosy flesh beneath. Maria's pussy was a work of art—plump lips glistening with her arousal, the tiny hood of her clit peeking out, begging for attention. She let out a small, choked sound as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her.“Oh, fuck,” Maria gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily. Marco hummed against her, the vibration sending a visible shudder through her thighs. He lapped at her with lazy, deliberate strokes, savoring every drop of her wetness. Her juices coated his lips, and when he pulled back, he grinned up at me, his chin glistening.“She’s sweet,” he said, his voice rough. “Try her.”I didn’t need encouragement. I shifted lower, nudging his shoulder aside, and pressed my mouth against the heat of her. The first taste hit my tongue—a mix of salt and honey, with an undertone of something uniquely Maria. I groaned, burying

VIKTOR*I hated clubs.Too loud. Too crowded. Too many people pretending they were having the time of their lives while drowning themselves in alcohol and bad decisions.Marco loved places like this.I barely tolerated them.I adjusted the cuff of my black sleeve as I walked away from the private booth we had reserved upstairs, the bass from the music vibrating faintly beneath my boots. The scent of liquor, sweat, and perfume mixed heavily in the air, irritating my wolf enough to make him restless.“Five minutes,” I had told Marco before leaving. “I’m getting a drink.”That had been the plan. Nothing more but then I smelled her and my steps halted instantly.Every sound around me dulled.The crowd blurred.And my wolf slammed into the front of my mind so violently that my chest tightened.Mate.The word echoed through me like a growl.I frowned immediately.Impossible.At fifty-one years old, I had long accepted that fate had skipped me entirely. Most wolves found their mates before t

MARIA*I swallowed another glass of vodka in one burning gulp, the liquid scraping down my throat like fire.Tears slipped down my cheeks in stubborn, uncontrollable waves.His words… those cruel, slicing words… kept looping in my mind like a curse I couldn’t break free from. I clenched the glass so tightly my knuckles ached, vision tilting slightly as dizziness washed over me.Fuck…I shouldn’t let him get to me.I shouldn’t—But my hand moved anyway, pouring another drink like it was the only thing keeping me upright.I barely lifted it when—A hand stopped me.His fingers wrapped gently around mine, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. Heat curled up my arm at the contact, and before I could even process it, a low, velvet voice brushed against my ear.“Don’t hurt yourself like that.”Something about the way he said it. In that dangerously calm way made my breath catch.My heart betrayed me instantly, slamming against my ribs for no logical reason at all.And then I felt it.My wo

MARIAI froze mid-step, the world tilting on its axis.Splat.The sound of the cake I’d just bought hitting the floor was almost comical. But I couldn’t look down. I couldn’t look away from the bed.Kelvin was fucking another woman.Not just having sex. Fucking. Deep, hungry strokes that made the bed frame slam against the wall. His face — God, his face — was twisted in raw ecstasy, something I had never seen in all the years we’d been together. Eyes half-lidded, lips parted, a low, guttural groan rumbling from his throat every time he buried himself inside her. He stared at her like she was the only woman on earth. Like she was his.My stomach clenched.This was the same man who only touched me when I practically begged. The same man who moved inside me in silence, like he was fulfilling a chore instead of making love. I used to force out a moan awkwardly in the dark, trying to chase pleasure while he remained quiet, almost bored. I’d convinced myself it was just how he was. Some men