Chapter 70 Precious thing
Amara POV
The world narrows to him.
To the weight of him above me.
To the heat of his skin against mine.
To the way the bond between us snaps tight, alive and pulsing like something with its own heartbeat.
His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that makes my chest ache.
Not rushed.
Not careless.
But starving.
Like he’s been holding himself back for far too long.. and he has. we’ve been married nearly half a year and this is the farthest we’ve gotten.
My hands slide up his back, fingers digging into the hard lines of muscle there as I pull him closer. Like I need to feel every inch of him just to convince myself this is real.
That he’s really here.
That I’m really back with him. And he actually wants me.
A low sound leaves his chest at that, rough and deep, vibrating straight through me as his lips drag from mine.
My breath catches the second his mouth brushes along my jaw, trailing lower to my neck. His hand slides up my side, firm and steady, like he’s anchoring me in place while his mouth explores.
“Amara..” my name leaves him like it costs something.
Like it means everything.
My head tips back against the pillows without me even realizing it, giving him more space, more access, and he takes it without hesitation. His lips press harder now, slower, lingering in a way that makes warmth coil low in my stomach.
The bond surges again.
My fingers tighten in his hair as I drag him back up to me, crashing my mouth against his again.
I don’t want slow anymore.
Not right now.
Not when everything in me feels like it’s been wound too tight for too long.
He responds instantly.
Like he was waiting for that.
His hand slides behind my thigh, lifting it slightly, shifting our bodies closer together in a way that makes my breath hitch sharply. The contact, the closeness, it sends a jolt through me that I feel everywhere all at once.
“Still okay?” he murmurs again, but his voice is different now.
Lower.
Thicker.
Like restraint is slipping through his fingers piece by piece.
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely able to get the word out properly.
More than okay.
I need this.
Need him.
That’s all it takes.
His control snaps.
Not completely.
But enough.
His mouth claims mine again, deeper this time, more demanding, as his hand slides up my side, over my waist, my ribs, until it finds my breasts. His touch is firm, confident, like he’s memorized every reaction my body gives him already.
And maybe he has.
Through the bond.
Through the way every sensation echoes between us.
I feel what he feels.
The pull. The heat. The edge of losing control.
It crashes into me just as hard.
“Gods” I breathe against his mouth, my body arching slightly into him without thinking. He presses the tip of his large cck against my virtue. It hurts a little, but it’s so wet down there it’s not so bad as he slowly slides inside me.
A low groan escapes him, his forehead pressing briefly against mine like he’s trying to hold himself together.
Trying.
And failing.
“You’re going to ruin me, wife” he mutters, voice strained, like the words are dragged out of him.
I almost laugh at that.
Almost.
Because I feel it too.
That same unraveling.
That same loss of control creeping in at the edges.
“Too late,” I whisper back.
His eyes darken.
Completely.
And then he moves again, sliding further inside me.
Dear goddess, he’s so big.. I didn’t think..
He pulls me closer beneath him as his hand slides down my side, over my hip, gripping just enough to make my breath catch. His mouth follows the movement, trailing lower again, slower this time, like he’s savoring it.
Like he’s taking his time now.
Making up for every second we lost.
Every moment we were apart.
The bond hums, steady and strong, wrapping around us like something tangible.
Like it’s holding us together.
Like it refuses to let either of us pull away.
My hands slide down his back again, feeling the flex of muscle beneath my fingers, the heat of his skin, the tension still coiled there even as he tries to control it.
But I don’t want him to.
Not right now.
“Sebastian.. his name leaves me softer this time, but it still gets his attention instantly.
His head lifts, his gaze locking onto mine.
And there’s nothing restrained about it anymore.
Nothing careful.
Just raw want.
Raw need.
For me.
“For you,” he corrects quietly, like he felt the thought through the bond.
My breath catches again.
Of course he did.
That connection between us is wide open now.
Every emotion. Every flicker of thought.
Shared.
Magnified.
Dangerous.
His hand comes up again, brushing along my cheek, slower now, grounding himself just enough to keep from completely losing control.
“Yeah” he admits, voice low, rough. “You do make it very difficult.”
A small, breathless laugh escapes me despite everything.
“Good.”
That does it.
Whatever thread he was holding onto snaps completely.
His mouth crashes back to mine, deeper, more consuming than before, his hand tightening at my waist as he pulls me flush against him. The movement steals the breath from my lungs, sends another sharp wave of heat through me that I can’t even begin to fight.
And I don’t try.
Not even a little.
The world outside this room disappears entirely.
No castle.
No dinner.
No vampire king waiting with whatever game he’s playing.
Just this.
Just him.
Just us.
The bond pulses again, brighter, stronger, like it’s building toward something neither of us can stop now.
Something inevitable.
Something that was always going to happen the moment we found each other again.
His pace quickens, sending shockwaves through me. He slams his cck deep inside me.
“Fck Amara. You feel so fcking amazing.”
His forehead presses to mine once more, both of us breathing a little heavier now, the space between us barely there.
“Last chance,” he murmurs, voice quieter now but no less intense. “To tell me to stop.”
My hands slide back up to his face, holding him there, forcing him to look at me.
“I’m not stopping you,” I say softly.
Not now.
Not ever.
Something in his expression shifts at that.
Not softer.
Not gentler.
Just certain.
Final.
“Then don’t look away,” he says.
I don’t.
I can’t.
And when he moves again, my toes curl and my back arches. His hands run along my body, dripping at my brasts and plucking at my sensitive npples.
His hand finds my throat, giving it a tight squeeze and when I moan of pleasure, he tightens his grip a little.
Fck I love that.
I feel I buildup within me, burning.. but in such a good way. Immense pressure begins and my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“G-gods..” I cry.
“Yes, cm for me.” He growls.
And then it happens. An explosion like I’ve never felt before of just.. pure pleasure pours out of my entire being.
His thrusts continue until he’s nearing his peak, “fck” he growls, stilling inside me and filling me with his cm.
Breathless, he lays beside me and pulls me to him.
“You’re the most precious thing to me.”