The Scorned Luna-Chapter 89: I’m yours

​His tongue was a masterpiece of torture—rough, hot, and relentless. He found her swollen center and began to feast, his tongue swirling in deep, rhythmic strokes that sent lightning bolts straight to her toes. He sucked at her clit with a raw, guttural intensity, his mouth creating a vacuum that made Sofia’s head whip back against the wall.

​"Oh god, right there," she sobbed out, her hips bucking instinctively against his face.

​The sound of his name on her lips only made him more feral. He gripped her ass, pulling her even closer, his tongue probing deep inside her before returning to flick at her sensitive peak. The sensation of the hot water hitting her chest while his mouth devoured her below was too much. Her wolf was screaming in her mind, a wild, chaotic rhythm that matched the pace of his tongue.

​Sofia felt the pressure building, a tight coil in her lower belly that was spiraling out of control. Her breath came in short, jagged hitches. Alaric sensed it. He increased the speed, his fingers sliding into her, stretching her as his mouth worked with a rhythmic, sucking force that pushed her over the edge.

​"Alaric! I’m—I’m going to—!"

​She shattered. Her muscles clamped down on his fingers as a violent, toe-curling climax ripped through her. She cried out, her voice echoing in the small bathroom, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Alaric didn’t pull away; he drank her in, staying through every pulsing vibration of her release, his tongue catching every drop of her sweetness.

​He slowly lowered her legs, rising to his full, towering height. He was dripping with water, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with an unholy fire. He looked like a god of the hunt who had finally caught his prize.

​He grabbed her waist, spinning her around so she was facing the wall. He pressed his massive, soaking wet body against her back, his hardened length heavy and hot against the curve of her backside.

​"I’m not done with you, Sofia," he rasped into her ear, his teeth nipping at her lobe. "Not even close."

​He reached around, his large hand cupping one of her heavy breasts, while his other hand guided his dick to the entrance of her aching, wet pussy.

​Alaric paused, his body rigid against hers. He was a man used to taking, but with her, the stakes were different. He waited, his breath hitching, giving her that one final second to tell him to stop, to push him away.

​But Sofia didn’t pull away. Sensing his hesitation, she turned in the circle of his arms. Her skin was slick, her hair plastered to her shoulders, and her eyes were dark with a hunger that rivaled his own.

​"Do you want this, Sofia?" he asked, his voice a jagged rasp of restraint.

​Sofia didn’t answer immediately. She looked up at him, her chest heaving, and threw the question back with a defiant tilt of her chin. "Do you want it?"

​"Fuck yes," Alaric growled, his hands tightening on her waist. "From the moment I saw you get out of Damien’s car... I’ve wanted to ruin you for any other man. I’ve wanted this every second since."

​Sofia swallowed hard. Her body was screaming for him, her core aching and wet, but a cold voice echoed in the back of her mind. It was her wolf, prowling the cage of her consciousness, whispering a warning. Sofia, remember... if you do this, Damien will feel it. Through the bond, he will feel every touch, every surge of pleasure. He will be in immense pain.

​The thought should have discouraged her. It should have made her freeze in horror at the betrayal of a nephew with his uncle. Instead, a dark, vengeful thrill surged through her. She thought of the way Damien had treated her. She wanted him to feel it. She wanted the bond to vibrate with the raw intensity of her choice. She wanted him to feel miserable.

​Alaric saw the flicker of hesitation in her eyes and mistook it for fear. His expression softened with a flash of regret, and he began to pull away, his hands sliding off her damp skin. "If you’re not sure—"

​"No," Sofia gasped, her hands flying out to catch his forearms, pulling him back into her space. She crashed her lips against his in a desperate, bruising kiss. When she pulled back just an inch, her voice was a fierce whisper against his mouth. "I want you to fuck me, Alaric. I want you to do it in a way that makes it so I can’t move properly tomorrow. Don’t be gentle."

​The last thread of Alaric’s control snapped. A low, predatory sound vibrated in his chest—a growl of pure, unadulterated dominance. He didn’t waste another second. He grabbed her hips and hoisted her up, pinning her back against the cold tile. Sofia wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she pulled him flush against her.

​He guided his heavy, throbbing length to her entrance, and with one powerful, rhythmic thrust, he buried himself inside her.

​Sofia let out a sharp cry, her head falling back against the wall as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming—too big, too hot, too much. She felt the echo of Damien’s presence in her mind, a distant scream of agony and shock, but she pushed it away, focusing only on the man currently claiming her soul.

​Alaric didn’t slow down. He began to move with a raw, savage pace, his body a blur of muscle and motion under the pounding water. Each thrust was deep and hungry, hitting her with a force that made the glass doors rattle. He was marking her, driving into her with a hunger that felt like it could never be satisfied.

​"You’re mine," he rumbled, his hands moving to her throat, not to hurt, but to ground her as he drove into her again and again. "Tell me you’re mine."

​"Yours," Sofia choked out, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails drawing thin red lines through the water on his skin. "I’m yours, Alaric!"

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