Chapter Eleven

Aurora POV

His mouth stays on mine, it's like he's wanting to drink in every whimper and gasp I make, swallowing each one like something he wants to savor it for later.

I'm not used to this, to the way his tongue moves with devastating control, as if he's coaxing and claiming me. I'm not used to the way that his fingers never relent, he's not going too fast or deep, just enough to drive me mad with need.

Each touch is maddeningly light as he strokes inside me with a lazy rhythm that has my thighs tense around his wrist. My breaths come in shallow, trembling bursts. My hips thrust up, chasing more from him, as I silently beg him to give me what my body is screaming for.

He doesn't, though, he pulls back just enough to smirk against my lips, it's a cruel twist of his mouth that sends a shiver straight through me.

"You thought I'd let you come just because your body is begging for me?" he whispers, his voice like silk. "You thought surrender would make this easy?"

My mouth opens to speak, or plead, but the words die in my throat the moment that he presses his finger deeper, then pulls it out just enough to leave me empty and aching.

His thumb circles over the sensitive nerves of my clit with a precision that makes my toes curl but not enough pressure to push move over the edge I'm stuck on.

A whimper leaves my mouth when he stops again, my hips bucking slightly in urgency. Then his thumb begins to move again.

"Do you feel that?" he breathes against my throat, and all it does is intensify everything. "That ache, that pulse right under my pulse hand? That's what you've done to me since the bond formed. That's what I'm having to live with, knowing that you were meant for me and watching you slip away anyway."

His teeth scrape over the skin just beneath my jaw. I want him to bite me, to claim me, but he doesn't. It's more like a warning, a brand.

"You think this is punishment?" he murmurs. "No, little wolf. This is devotion."

I whimper, my hips grinding helplessly against his hand, but he only withdraws his finger slightly. Then, too slowly, he pushes it back in, deep and unforgiving. My back arches, and my vision begins to blur from the pleasure being held back.

I want to beg, to plead for him to give me more, to touch me more. It's not enough, it's nowhere near enough.

"Tell me," he whispers, his breath brushing against my ear. "Tell me how it feels to be denied by the one male who wants to ruin you for everyone else."

I whimper, my fingers clutching at his shirt, and grasping his shoulders beneath it, clinging to anything I can find. There's no purchase, no mercy, only him, his hand, his voice and the storm that he's building within me, only to deny me it, over and over with his cruel movements.

"You're going to come, little wolf," he says, "but not yet. Not until you understand what it means to belong to me. Not until you've begged and proven you won't let anyone else near you."

He pulls back enough to look at me. Does he really mean that? I look into his dark eyes and realise he is. The look he gives me seems to unravel something inside of me further than it was before. I'm gasping now, so close to the edge that it hurts, and just as I'm about to fall over, he slows his touch and drags it out. My thighs tremble and my body quakes beneath him.

He dips his head again and brushes his mouth over mine. This time, the kiss is different, softer, but somehow it's darker, like he's savouring the taste of my desperation.

"You’re mine," he whispers. "And I will break you with pleasure before I ever let you go."

His hand keeps moving, and if anything, it grows more deliberate, more focused. He thumb continues to circle my clit, while his fingers still slip inside of me with an ease that makes my body clench around him.

I'm panting now, clutching at his shoulders like that will stop me from coming undone. Every muscle in my body is tight and drawn to the breaking point. I'm right there, ready for the release, it's so close it's nearly painful.

"Do you feel that?" he breathes. His voice is like sin, and it has my body shaking. "You're shaking me. You're falling apart for me, under me, and I've barely touched you."

The only answer I'm capable of giving is a low and broken noise that's torn from my throat as I arch into him. His thumb moves just right, once, and I nearly fall over the edge, but he stops and everything freezes.

His fingers are still now, and his head snaps up. The entire weight of his body suddenly tenses over mine. It's like he's caught scent of danger. I blink at him, dazed and shaking, and not understanding what's changed until I hear it too. A soft shuffle, and the sound of footsteps on the other side of the hall.

His eyes meet mine. I see it all, panic, regret, and then something worse, and far colder. Discipline. I then see the realisation hit of what he was doing, and his face pales.

"Your mother’s coming," he says in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, but it punches through the haze like a blade.

I don't have time to react, he's already shoving off me, and pulling his hands off my body with the same ruthless control that he just used to drive me to the brink. I let out a sharp gasp that feels weird.

Leaning forward, his lips brush against my cheek in a soft and fleeting kiss.

"This was foolish," he says quietly, then he's up and gone, he doesn't look back as he slides out the other door and closes it behind him. He just left, like none of this happened, like this was normal, when it's far from normal.

This was foolish, that's what he said. I know what is coming, back to normal, him treating me like a slace, like I'm not worthy of anything except his hatred.

I scramble upright, yanking the sheet around me in a panic, and I hear the other door begin to creak open. I pull the blanket tighter and try to calm my heart that's slamming against my ribs. The scent of him clings to my skin, to the air, to the very bed that I'm tangled in.

Will she recognise his scent? Will she realise what was happening in here?

My body is still flushed, slick and aching for a release that now burns like a curse within me.

The door opens fully, and my mother walks in.