Chapter 82 82
He carried her effortlessly in his powerful arms and laid her down gently on the bed. Within seconds, she was completely bare against the sheets, trembling like a fragile leaf caught in a storm.
Instinctively, Sofía pressed her thighs tightly together and shielded her breasts with shaking hands.
The cruel words of her old bullies echoed in her mind, relentless and poisonous. Shame crept up her spine, making her feel small, exposed… inadequate.
He stepped away from her and stood at the foot of the bed, his dark gaze locked on her. Slowly, deliberately, he peeled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor where the rest of their clothes lay scattered.
She stared at him in awe.
His body was carved to perfection broad shoulders, defined muscles, intricate tattoos tracing over firm skin like art on marble. He looked like something sculpted by the gods themselves.
This man was hers.
The thought felt unreal.
And yet doubt clawed at her.
She was softer. Marked by scars. Flawed in ways she had memorized since childhood. Her nose tingled, tears threatening to spill.
He unbuckled his belt.
Then his zipper.
He pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion.
Her eyes widened, breath catching sharply in her throat. Even if she was inexperienced, she wasn’t naïve. She understood what this meant. What would happen.
A knowing smirk curved his lips as he climbed onto the bed, hovering above her like a predator closing in on its prize. The wolf pendant around his neck swung forward, brushing the valley between her breasts.
“Let me see you,” he rasped.
She shook her head timidly.
He noticed instantly the slump of her shoulders, the insecurity clouding her expression.
In that moment, he wanted to hunt down every person who had ever made her feel less than perfect and bury them deep in the earth.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmured hoarsely, cupping her cheeks. Sparks flared where his skin touched hers.
She searched his eyes desperately for even a flicker of disgust.
There was none.
No revulsion. No hesitation.
Only hunger. Desire. Admiration. And something deeper fierce and consuming.
Before she could overthink it, he lowered his face to the scar that marred her skin.
The second his lips brushed over it, she stiffened completely.
But he didn’t pull away.
He kissed it.
Slowly. Repeatedly.
“So… fucking… beautiful,” he breathed between kisses.
The butterflies in her stomach erupted into a storm, her body responding despite the doubts that had once anchored her down.
When he trailed lower, pressing soft kisses along her abdomen, a low growl rumbled from his chest he had sensed her arousal.
Each touch dissolved another layer of insecurity until she was reduced to uneven breaths and trembling limbs.
Her hands slid from her chest into his hair, gripping tightly as his mouth descended dangerously lower.
“S–stop,” she stammered, tugging at his thick strands.
His head snapped up, eyes dark with warning.
“W-what are you doing?” she whispered, still trying to pull him back.
“I’m going to taste what’s mine,” he said roughly. “And you’re going to love it.”
He spread her legs.
And he did exactly what he promised.
The sensation was overwhelming.
A cry tore from her throat as waves of pleasure crashed through her body, unfamiliar and intense. He drew every ounce of euphoria from her until she felt boneless, breathless.
When she finally opened her eyes, dazed and panting, he was watching her with a glint of satisfaction.
Then his mouth moved upward, worshiping her breasts, pulling her mind into another hazy realm entirely.
She felt intoxicated.
Drunk on his touch.
His mouth.
His hands.
His scent.
“So fucking beautiful,” he growled before capturing her lips in another searing kiss.
He kissed her like he intended to memorize her.
Like he intended to own every breath she took.
“I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he confessed against her mouth. “Under me.”
His fingers made her shudder again and again.
She pulled him down into another kiss, desperate, and he responded with equal hunger.
He was drowning.
Drowning in her scent.
Her soft moans.
Her trembling whimpers.
Her curves that could bring any man to his knees.
But she wasn’t for any man.
She was his.
“Who do you belong to?” he demanded roughly, leaving heated marks across her skin.
In her dazed state, she blinked up at him. “What?”
“Tell me.”
His impatience sharpened his tone.
Her lips pressed together shyly, cheeks flushed deep red. She bit down softly before whispering
“Y-you.”
The beast inside him purred in satisfaction.
“Good girl,” he murmured huskily as he positioned himself between her legs.
She tensed instinctively.
“Breathe. Relax,” he instructed gently.
She obeyed, trying to calm the nervous flutter inside her.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised.
And he was.
At first.
He moved slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust. Pain flickered across her features, followed by soft whimpers but he stayed steady, murmuring reassurance.
When her body began to relax… when pleasure started to replace discomfort…
His control snapped.
He moved with raw intensity.
Then slowed.
Then surged again.
A beast unleashed, yet mindful.
The connection between them was electric wild and overwhelming.
Their sounds filled the room his guttural groans, her cries of pleasure until the world outside seemed to vanish.
Eventually, they collapsed together, breathless and spent.
He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead as their breathing gradually slowed.
“I love you, doll,” he whispered.
Her heart skipped violently.
His green eyes held nothing but truth.
A soft smile curved her lips.
“I… I love you too, my beast,” she breathed.
A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled her closer.