I hope the story doesn’t feel like it’s dragging—I’m doing my best to keep it fast-paced while still giving you the full picture. 📖✨ Please bear with me, and thank you so much for your patience and support! 💖🙏🏾
Natalie Adrian lay beside me, his body warm against mine, and without a word, pulled me into his arms. It wasn’t a casual embrace—it was grounding, possessive, like he had no intention of letting me go. I melted into him, my muscles still trembling, my skin still humming from everything we’d shared. I didn’t want to move either. I was about to shift, to face him, maybe trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips, when the sharp trill of my phone shattered the moment. I groaned. Everything inside me ached—in that sweet, satisfied way—and answering a call felt like the last thing I wanted to do. It rang once, stopped, then started again. Persistent. Desperate. Reluctantly, I slipped from Adrian’s arms, feeling his hold linger even as I pulled away. The truth was, I didn’t mind the interruption. Not entirely. I wasn’t ready to explain why I hadn’t told him I was a virgin. It wasn’t shame—it just felt... unnecessary now. That part of me was gone. Given. Taken. Shared. Whatever it ha
NatalieAdrian’s tongue moved upward from my pussy to my clit—cool, deliberate, relentless. The rhythm of his mouth, the subtle sounds of his desire—it all built around me, within me, tightening every nerve to the edge.He knew exactly what he was doing, how to keep me hovering at the brink, how to pull me back just when I was ready to fall.And then, just as I was about to break, he moved— leaving my pussy— his lips pressing into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.I flinched. Something sharp grazed me there. Not painful, but sudden—like the brief kiss of a blade.It vanished in an instant, lost beneath the distraction of his hands gripping my hips, anchoring me to the bed as he returned to my clit.He moved slowly, teasing, navigating the place between my clit and my pussy with infuriating precision. Until I shattered.My body arched, helpless. The climax rolled through me like a wave crashing into a cliff.I moaned his name—loud, broken, needy—as he kept going, his tongue dipping
NatalieAdrian eased me back onto the bed, his movements fluid, almost reverent. With a flick of his fingers, he parted the fabric of my shirt, and the cool air brushed over my bare skin.His eyes drank me in—slowly, intently—as if I were something rare and exquisite. He didn’t rush. He just watched, and in that gaze, I felt stripped bare in more ways than one.My own eyes wandered, drawn to the curve of his mouth, then lower.He was carved from something wild and ancient, all hard lines and quiet power. Everything about him whispered danger in the most intoxicating way.My heart stammered in my chest as he leaned in, and when his lips finally met mine, the world fell away.His kiss was unhurried, deliberate, like he was memorising the taste of me.Then he drifted—his mouth trailing to the line of my jaw, the curve of my neck, the slope of my shoulder. Each touch sent sparks beneath my skin.His mouth was cool—unnaturally so—and the contrast to the fire building inside me was maddenin
Natalie“Do you like the place?” Adrian asked, pulling me from my thoughts.I nodded, offering a small smile before slipping away toward the bedroom. I needed a moment—space to breathe, to steady the storm quietly building in my chest.He’d told me not to pack. Said he’d take care of everything.Curious, I opened the wardrobe.Inside, carefully arranged, were soft cotton tees, thick snow gear, and lingerie—lace, of course. He liked lace. My cheeks flushed instantly. He’d mentioned it before, his fondness for it, but seeing it here… prepared, folded, expected—it sent a flutter through my stomach. Not fear exactly, but something that buzzed with awareness.I thought of what happened in the park. How Adrian had this uncanny ability to unravel me, strip away my nervousness with just a look, and his touch… it was maddening. By laying these clothes out, he wasn’t just choosing my outfits—he was creating a mood. A moment. A plan.I spotted hiking gear too. So, snow and seduction? That was hi
NatalieAdrian didn’t say a word for a while. The silence between us stretched out, soft and strange, like the lull before a storm. Then, without warning, he placed his hand gently on my thigh.“Did I swoop in for the save?” he asked, the teasing in his voice so perfectly timed it made me laugh.“I didn’t need saving from Carson. He’s just a friend,” I said, smiling at the road ahead.Adrian let out a low chuckle. “Didn’t look that way to me. He seemed… tense. Like he wanted more than you were willing to give.”I glanced over, and he turned toward me with that soft, practiced smile before looking back at the road.“He was desperate for your attention at the meet-and-greet,” he went on, voice smooth. “Sending Grant to my booth like that? That was pure Carson. He never oversteps unless something’s really bothering him.”Adrian flicked his gaze to me again. “You must’ve made one hell of an impression,” he said, and then winked.I shrugged. “Maybe I did.”We both laughed, but something li
Carson Jacob walked in looking like hell—eyes sunken, shoulders slumped, skin pale like he hadn’t slept in days. The tension clung to him like a second skin. One glance told me he’d rather be anywhere else. “What brings you?” I asked, rising to meet him with a handshake before motioning to the seat across from me. “Work, Carson. That’s what brings me here,” he said, pulling a rolled parchment from inside his coat and handing it over like it weighed a thousand pounds. I took it. The surface of the scroll was slick, damp with cold. I unrolled it slowly. The script wasn’t ink. It was blood. My gut went cold. The name at the top—Volodymir Asuep—jumped out like a ghost. “What is this?” I asked, though part of me already knew. “The reason I’m here,” Jacob said, voice low, reluctant. I looked up sharply. “Is this what I think it is?” He nodded. “The man who wrote that letter never made it to deliver it. He was murdered—along with the wolves escorting him. We believe it was a coordi
Carson“Dig up everything you can on that bastard of an uncle. He’s hiding something,” I said, voice low and tight. Grant gave a grim nod.“What makes you so sure?” he asked.“Because if he had nothing to hide, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did last night.” I started pacing, heat rising under my skin just thinking about it.“When I approached Graham, I laid it out—told him we understood his situation, that handing Lisa over to us meant she’d be safe. He didn’t even flinch. He let you take her without hesitation.”“But Michael…” I stopped, grinding my teeth. “Michael was different.”Grant watched me carefully. I could see the pieces starting to come together for him too.“He seemed ready to pay the tribute. I assumed, since Natalie isn’t his biological daughter, I’d be doing him a favour—freeing him of a burden. Told him I’d claim her. Said she’d be protected, that all she had to do was relinquish her father’s estate and inheritance. I even said I’d take care of her and her mothe
Carson“Alpha, you need to calm down,” Willis said, his voice soft but strained. The way his eyes kept darting to mine told me he was feeling the pressure too. I tried to breathe—slow, steady—but it was like trying to cage a storm with my ribs. The rage, the confusion, the ache—they wouldn't settle.Was I losing my grip?“I need you to dig into Michael Pierce. Everything. His family, any relatives still breathing, where they live, who they speak to. I want a full map of their bloodline,” I said, my voice tight with control I barely had.Willis gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable.“And Natalie’s father,” I added. “I want every detail—his name, his contacts, where he lived, how they lived. Natalie’s blind to our world. I need to know how she stayed in the dark for so long. I need to understand the life she came from.”Willis shifted uncomfortably. “If I may, Alpha… this path we’re on—it’s dangerous. You’re crossing into Strigoi tribute territory. That’s not a line we’re supposed
Dimitri “Ria!” Her name echoed down the stone corridor like a summons from the underworld. I didn’t have to wait long. She came, as she always did—obedient, radiant, barefoot. Her body was wrapped in silk, but it was the way she moved that pleased me: soft steps, lowered eyes, her throat exposed just enough to show she remembered her place. The anger in me roiled like hot coals under ice. Everything was unraveling—Graham’s insolence, Balshov’s interference, the ever-looming shadow of Volodymir. I needed something I could control. Something I could own. Her. I said nothing as she entered. Just watched her stop in front of me, close enough to touch. “You called,” she said, her voice low and knowing. I stepped forward, reaching out, brushing my fingers down the side of her neck. Her skin was warm, her pulse fast beneath my touch. She tilted her chin back, offering herself with practiced ease. “I don’t need obedience tonight,” I murmured. “I need devotion.” “Yes, my lord,” she wh