Chapter 118 118
Aurélie POV
“To let Maurice dance with you is one thing,” he growls, his voice rough with possession, “but not those other fuckers.”
The look in his eyes is dark hungry.
The garden around us is breathtakingly romantic. Red roses spill over the pergola in thick cascades, lanterns glow softly, fairy lights shimmer above us, and distant music drifts through the night air. Yet I barely register any of it.
All I see is him.
All I feel is the pull violent and relentless the same gravitational force I’ve been fighting since the moment he came back into my life.
He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, draws out a pack of cigarettes, and slides one between his lips with practiced ease. When he lights it and exhales slowly, a low, instinctive growl vibrates in my chest.
“I don’t like you smoking,” I say. I never have. It suited his dangerous image, but I’d always hated what it could do to him.
His gaze turns seductive an art form in itself and it sends a faint, aching throb through my body. He takes another drag, this time angling the smoke away from my face.
“I’m a werewolf, sweetheart,” he smirks. “I think my lungs are safe.”
He steps closer, the cigarette burning between two fingers at his side.
“What was that inside?” Another step.
“What was what?” I reply, acutely aware of how close he is now, my heartbeat accelerating.
I hate that I dislike the cigarette and yet the way the smoke mingles with his warm, leathery scent is intoxicating. Maybe it’s because I know what he is to me now.
My supposed mate.
The thought twists painfully in my chest.
Geneviève. The way she’d managed to poison him against the bond. Against something meant to be sacred pure, unbreakable. And yet he hadn’t felt it then. The bond hadn’t made him fight for me.
“Your emotions are everywhere,” he murmurs.
I look up to find him impossibly close our noses nearly touching.
“What’s wrong?”
“You know, don’t you,” I whisper, my voice trembling with too much truth, “what I am to you?”
He takes another drag, then drops the cigarette to the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. He exhales to the side before one hand settles at my waist, the other lifting to stroke my cheek with infuriating gentleness.
“Do you?” he asks quietly.
There’s something in his voice something raw. Something he hadn’t expected to surface tonight.
His earlier fury flashes through my mind. His reaction to the vulgar comments. His disapproval when I touched myself to reveal my identity. His jealousy when others wanted to dance with me.
And how he only calmed when I touched his face. When I held his hand.
The tingles bloom again undeniable, electric wrecking my control.
“How long have you known?” I whisper as his fingers trace warmth along my skin.
“A while…”
“A while?” I scoff, rolling my eyes until his brow quirks in amusement.
“What have you been doing?”
“Enjoying the view.”
His hand slides from my cheek to my hip, gripping firmly, while his other hand mirrors the motion on my opposite side.
“It’s too open,” I gasp as sensation coils low in my belly.
“Here,” he murmurs.
He guides me backward into the narrow space between the pergola and the brick wall, enclosing me completely.
“I” I start, desperate to fill the charged silence, but he silences me with a soft sound.
His hands tighten on my hips. One releases me only to take my hand, slowly dragging his fingers up my arm.
“Can you feel the tingles?” he asks in a low voice.
“Yes,” I manage.
His touch continues over my shoulder, along my collarbone before his hand settles gently around my throat.
“That means you’re mine, Aurélie.”
His eyes blaze stormy, brilliant blue as his lips part.
I’m spellbound.
My mouth goes dry beneath his stare. I bite my lower lip, barely holding myself back from closing the distance between us.
“Let’s see if those sparks show up elsewhere,” he says confidently as he leans in, trapping me fully against the wall.
His tongue brushes my bottom lip, coaxing my mouth open with a sharp gasp. He doesn’t kiss me right away his gaze locks onto mine, waiting. Giving me the chance to pull away.
I don’t.
A corner of his mouth lifts before his lips finally claim mine.
I moan as sensation detonates fireworks bursting across my lips. The tingles surge upward as his hand cups my jaw, his thumb resting against my cheek.
The music fades into nothing.
All that exists are the sparks he draws from my body everywhere he touches.