Allene He didn't respond right away. His chest heaved, fists clenched at his sides. But his eyes—they roamed, drinking in my body. They traced the line of my collarbone, down to my tits, full and heavy, nipples pebbled. Lower, to the dark patch between my thighs. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also a spark of heat under his stare. He was distracted, I could tell. The anger mixed with something raw, hungry.'Allene,' he growled, voice low and rough. He took a step closer, towering over me. 'You think words fix this?'I grabbed his shirt, fingers twisting the fabric. 'They should. I love you, Draven. Believe me, please.' My voice cracked, tears pricking my eyes. I pressed against him, my naked skin against his clothes. The roughness of his jeans scratched my belly, his heat seeping through.He grabbed my wrists, yanking them down. But he didn't let go. His grip was iron, pinning my arms to my sides. 'You're standing here like this, begging? After what I saw?' His eyes flicked to my li
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