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Chapter 40: Primal Instincts–2
Connor lowered himself closer, until our noses were nearly touching. His voice was
low and dangerous as he asked, “Tell me, Livvy, how do you want me to help you?”
Our mingled breaths blurred all boundaries between us. The scent of him–pine and
winter air–filled my senses, making my head spin even more.
Suddenly, summoning all my courage, I seized his collar and pulled him down into a
kiss. I felt his ice–blue eyes widen in surprise; I could almost hear the last thread of his restraint snapping.
My lips were soft against his, the kiss unpracticed yet irresistible in its innocence.
After a moment of shock, Connor took control, clasping the back of my head with one
large hand while his other arm tightened around my waist, crushing me to his chest.
He deepened the kiss passionately, his masculine scent enveloping me completely. Desire thickened the air between us until even the spacious room felt overheated and
too small to contain what was building between us.
His lips grazed my ear, his voice hoarse and bewitching as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, Livvy. I’ll be very gentle.”
Enveloped by his masculine presence, I trembled, my breath quickening as his hands began to explore. Together, we abandoned ourselves to primal instinct and
overwhelming pleasure, the night dissolving into a haze of sensation and need.
Hours later, exhausted beyond measure, I finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, safely cradled in Connor’s strong arms.
(Vanessa’s POV)
The crystal vase shattered against the wall, water and flowers exploding across the pristine white carpet of my Rivers pack villa. My hands trembled as Victor Stone’s words echoed in my mind.
“The plan failed. Connor Rivers found her in the elevator. They’re together now in the presidential suite.”
“What? Olivia Winters was taken away by my brother?!” I screamed, my voice rising to a pitch that hurt my own ears.
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Chapter 40 Primal Instinc…
Victor remained silent on the other end of the line, knowing better than to speak
when I was in this state.
48 Ports
“Useless! You’re all useless!” I shrieked, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Can’t
even handle such a small matter!”
Furious beyond reason, I smashed my phone against the floor, watching with savage
satisfaction as it shattered into pieces. My nails dug into my palms until they drew
blood, tiny crimson crescents forming in my pale skin.
My brother had taken Olivia away. They were alone together in a hotel suite. Would
they… would they sleep together?
The thought sent panic and jealousy clawing at my chest. Hot tears streamed uncontrollably down my face as I collapsed onto the sofa, my body shaking with
silent sobs.
“No… no… he can only be mine. Only mine!” I whispered into the empty room, hatred
blazing in my violet eyes.
Connor had been mine since childhood. I’d loved him first, long before Olivia Winters
ever entered the picture. He was supposed to be my mate, my future, my everything.
“Olivia Winters, you stole my brother,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You stole the
one I love most. I want you dead!”
Killing intent surged through me, born from my twisted obsession. This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot. If I couldn’t have Connor, then neither would she.
(Olivia’s POV)
When I next opened my eyes, daylight poured through the partially drawn curtains,
painting golden stripes across the luxurious bed. Every muscle in my body ached
pleasantly, a delicious soreness that reminded me of the night’s activities.
Turning my head slowly, I was met with Connor’s perfect, dangerously handsome
face just inches from mine. His eyes were closed, long dark lashes casting shadows
on his cheekbones, his breathing deep and even in sleep.
My mind went completely blank as memories flooded back. Lifting the quilt and peeking underneath, I instantly covered myself again, my cheeks blazing red.
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< Chapter 40. Primal Instinc
Both of us were completely naked. We… had been intimate last night.
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My face flushed deeper as fragments of the night returned to me: my initiative, driven by the drug; my shameless pleas; my uninhibited cries. The mortification
overwhelmed me, making me want to bury my face in the pillows and never emerge.
How could I ever face Connor again after behaving so wantonly? What must he think
of me now?
Resolved to escape this awkward situation, I gingerly lifted the quilt and tiptoed out of
bed, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar soreness between my thighs. Our clothes lay
scattered chaotically across the floor, evidence of our passionate haste.
My bare skin was covered in faint marks that stunned me once more–small bruises
and love bites that told the story of our night together. I swallowed nervously,
realizing just how intense our encounter had been.
With no clean clothes to change into and fearing to wake Connor by asking for help, I
hurriedly gathered my discarded garments from the floor. My fingers trembled as I
slipped them on, trying to make myself presentable enough to leave the suite without drawing attention.
Just as I was about to sneak away, a large warm hand clamped around my wrist. With
a sudden tug, I lost my balance and tumbled back onto the bed with a startled gasp.
Above me, Connor’s languid, teasing voice sounded, his ice–blue eyes gleaming with
possessive satisfaction.
“Sleep with me and then try to run away?”
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