CHAPTER 7: ARRIVING AT THE CORONATION

SORAYA’S POV

“Little wolf.”

His voice slid through the air like silk dipped in ice, freezing every thought in my head as I stared at him sitting behind the wheel.

He didn’t look at me gently. Damon never did. His green eyes pinned me with that sharp, possessive intensity that made my heart forget its rhythm.

“Come sit here.”

I swallowed hard. My heart thudded wildly against my ribs, threatening to burst out of my chest. The amber dress he forced me into, saying it matched my eyes, hugged my curves so tightly anyone watching would think I was headed for a nightclub, not my ex’s coronation.

“I… you should open the back door for me.”

My voice was embarrassingly small. I bit my inner lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. My fingers gripped the hem of my dress, trying to calm the trembling.

No. Not a dress I chose.

He dressed me.

Piece by sinful piece.

He started with my underwear, sliding the fabric up my legs with slow, deliberate fingers as he rubbed my garden diberartely while pretending he didn't mean it. Then the bra, his touch lingering too long on my skin, his eyes never leaving mine. His mouth parted slightly each time he dragged the fabric into place, his tongue brushing his lip as if he were savoring the sight of me.

By the time he finished, my brain was mush. My knees weak. My body flushed.

And now he had the audacity to sit in the driver’s seat like nothing happened.

Wasn’t he supposed to help me into the car like a gentleman?

Well… Damon was not a gentleman. Damon was Damon. A storm in human form and he did what pleased him.

Strangely, I liked every bit of it.

Was I possessed or was it because I never experienced someone like Damon before?

Fine. I would help myself then.

I reached for the back door, pushing the thoughtbehind my back, but his voice cut through the air, low and commanding.

“Stop.”

I froze, confusion knotting in my chest. When I turned, his gaze was already on me, cold, firm, and expectant.

“Come.”

His tone sent a shiver down my spine.

“There’s no space where you...”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

My breath hitched. Goddess help me. This man would be the death of me.

I glanced over my shoulder at the maids standing nearby. Their eyes were lowered, pretending not to watch, but I knew better. They were just pretending because their boss was here.

Still, their pretense gave me the courage I needed. My face burned as I walked to Damon’s side of the car.

“Get in.”

He had already opened the door, leaning back slightly, broad arms withdrawing from the steering wheel to create… space.

It wasn’t real space. It was his lap.

“Y-you’re not serious. You can’t drive with me on your laps.”

“And remind me...” he tilted his head slightly, “who is driving? You or me?”

I hated him how he made me feel, how he treated me in a way my body just wanted him, yearned for him. It felt as if I wasn't married to Dorian for four good years.

With Damon, I felt as if I were a teenager experiencing love for the first time.

My heart thud hard in my chest, I was scared it might pop out.

“Get in, Miss Soraya,” the other man, Darius said stiffly. His voice was flat, his face unreadable, but the command in it made my stomach clench.

I looked at Darius. Then at Damon. Then at the space Damon created for me. My body heated instantly, memories of his hands dressing me flashing back like sparks. Memories of the heated night clutching in my mind, making it hard to breathe.

One step, nother, closer.

I tore my eyes away from Damon’s impossibly handsome face, lifted my leg and slid onto his lap.

Right onto the hard length pressing between my thighs.

Damn him.

My breath escaped in a shaky gasp as I braced myself on the steering wheel. Damon’s scent, ark, masculine and  intoxicating wrapped around me.

“How will I drive when you’re lying on the steering wheel?” he murmured, amusement dripping from his voice.

He leaned forward slightly and his breath brushed my ear, turning my spine into liquid.

“O-oh…”

A pathetic sound escaped me before I could swallow it. Sitting on him like this… with his bulge pushing up between my cheeks… my body reacted without my permission.

He smirked. I didn’t need to look to know.

“We’re getting late.”

His voice was a soft growl, pulling me back to reality. His hands slid past my sides, his fingers brushing my waist before settling on the wheel. My skin erupted in goosebumps.

“You did this on purpose,” I whispered. My tongue felt heavy, my throat dry.

“It’s part of your punishment.”

Punishment? My heart leaped.

“For what?” I hated how weak my voice sounded. “What did I do?”

“You refused help from the maids.”

Of course he was smirking. I felt it in the way he breathed.

“You are worse than...”

The car hit a bump and my words broke into a gasp as I grabbed his hair to keep from falling forward.

His low chuckle vibrated through his chest and into me.

“Now your perfume and sweet scent will distract me from driving.”

His mouth was at my ear again, lips barely grazing my skin, and I felt myself melt further into him.

“I-I can move to the backseat. Or...or the passenger side.” My voice trembled. My body betrayed me as my thighs slowly parted around him.

Goddess! He was behaving as if there wasn't space in the car.

“I want my woman close.”

His tongue flicked my ear.

I shivered violently.

By the time he parked the car, I couldn’t breathe right.

My legs felt like jelly.

My thoughts were scrambled pieces.

I practically tore the door open and stumbled out, sucking in air as if I had been drowning. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I streghthen my dress.

“We’re here.”

His voice was suddenly right beside me.

I hadn’t heard him get out.

He stood close, too close that his heat brushing my side. “People are watching,” he whispered as he pushed his hair in place. I had ruined it in the car after all.

Before I could react, he intertwined our fingers, holding my hand like we were a real couple, like he owned me.

I lifted my eyes and froze.

A crowd, a silent, staring crowd.

Some faces I recognized as they were members of Dorian's pack, this pack to be specific. Their eyes filled with judgment, disgust and memories of who I used to be.

But they bowed not for me, but for the for the Alpha King.

“Alpha King, welcome to the Silver Claw Pack,” a guard said stiffly, though his eyes betrayed something else...fear, maybe desperation.

My heart hammered again. Damon squeezed my hand lightly, grounding me as he led me inside the pack hall.

The hall where I used to wait alone while Dorian made excuses to be with Elara.

A voice cracked the air like a whip.

“Alpha King!”

I knew that voice.

I knew it better than my own heartbeat.

“Soraya?”

Dorian’s voice shook as his eyes landed on me from the podium.

“What the hell?”