Todos los capítulos de The forced curvy mate : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Just the thought of her name eased the pressure in my chest. Warmth replaced the residual heat of anger. My stubborn gorgeous Eleanor.I closed my eyes and let the water keep falling.“Oh, Eleanor,” I whispered, the name barely more than a breath against the steam. My hand moved without thought, sliding slowly over wet skin as the water traced graceful paths down my chest, my stomach, the hard lines of my hips. The heat no longer just soothed—it fed something darker. Something hungry.She had been my hope since the beginning. Even when those eyes looked at me with pure, undiluted hatred, something in me answered. That fire. That refusal. No other woman had ever touched the part of me that only she could reach. Every time she told me she didn’t want me, the craving sharpened. Every rejection only made me want her more. I didn’t care if she looked at me and saw nothing but a monster. I had already made my choice long ago.Something deep inside me had chosen her long before I ever under

The moment shattered.I jerked upright in my own bed, heart hammering, cock straining against the thin fabric of my shorts. “What’s wrong with me?” I muttered. “I need to get myself together.”I pushed off the mattress and stalked into the bathroom. The shorts hit the floor. I turned the shower on cold and stepped under the spray, letting the icy water slam against overheated skin. It should have cooled me down. It didn’t. Not enough.I braced one hand against the tiled wall and wrapped the other around myself, stroking hard and fast. The cold water ran over my shoulders while my mind stayed locked on the dream—on the way she had looked tied down, open, waiting. On how she had simply lain there while I touched her inside her own thoughts. How I wished it had been real. How I wished she was here right now, under me, instead of just a fantasy I was fucking my fist to.“Fuck… yeah…” I groaned, hips jerking into my hand.Every stroke was for her. Only her.“Eleanor—”The name tore out o

Eleanor POV The next morning, I was pulled from sleep by a firm knock on the door. Before I could answer, it swung open and Zita strode in, followed by three women in neat black dresses. She crossed straight to the tall windows and yanked the heavy curtains aside. Golden morning light flooded the room, making me squint and raise a hand against the sudden brightness.“Good morning, Eleanor.”I sat up slowly, rubbing the last of the sleep from my eyes. The sheets slipped down to my waist. “Good morning, Zita. What’s going on?”She turned, a small, knowing smile already on her lips. “These ladies are here to take care of you. Today is a special day.”“A special day?” I frowned, still half-fogged with sleep. “I don’t understand.”“You will be formally introduced to all the packs and acknowledged by them,” she said, her voice warm but steady. “Everyone will know that you are one of us now.”My heart gave a hard kick. “You mean… introduced to all the werewolves?” My eyes widened. “Everyone

She walked closer, her heels clicking sharply against the kitchen floor. “I am talking to you, you sad, ugly thing,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “Who are you, and what are you doing…Eating when you are supposed to be among the guests out there? I see… so you’re just here for the food, aren’t you?” I stared at her in pure confusion. What the hell was this woman talking about? I had never seen her before in this house, yet she spoke as if she owned the place. My cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and rising anger. I quickly dropped the pie onto the counter, brushed the crumbs from my lips, and straightened my dress as best I could before stepping toward her. “My name is Eleanor,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I raised my hand politely to shake hers. She looked at my outstretched hand as if it were something filthy. “Will you get that disgusting hand out of my face?” I slowly lowered it, swallowing the sting. “I’m sorry… who are you?” I asked

He immediately called for Zita to take care of me. Within seconds, she appeared, her eyes widening when she saw my soaked dress. Lucian stepped forward and firmly ushered Valeria toward the edge of the gathering, his voice low and commanding as he ordered her to move.Without another glance at me, he left with her, leaving me standing there on the platform—shocked, dripping, and suddenly the center of far too many staring eyes.Zita immediately guided me downstairs to a restroom away from the gathering and began helping me clean up. She soaked a white napkin under the faucet and carefully pressed it against the wet silk of my gown, trying to blot away the sticky champagne.Someone called her name from the hallway.“Zita, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I can do it myself. You should go attend to more important things.”She hesitated, still holding the damp cloth. “Are you sure?”“Yes, of course. I’m not a kid.”“Alright.” She gave me a concerned look. “I’ll be right back.” Then she slipp