Unleashed Desires - (2)

Lydia

A strange warmth curled in my stomach, faint at first, like the ghost of an ember, but it wouldn't fade. It grew.

With every passing second, it burned hotter, licking up my spine, pooling low in my abdomen, leaving me flushed and restless.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my body felt too tight, too aware of the people around me. The grand hall shimmered in golden light, laughter and voices blending into a distant hum.

Something wasn't right.

I clenched my fists, inhaling sharply, trying to shake off the sluggish haze creeping over me. Focus. I had been fine moments ago. I just needed fresh air.

I turned toward the exit, but as I reached the doors, a figure stepped in my way.

A man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his suit hugging his frame in all the ways that made his confidence dangerous. His mask covered half his face, but his smirk was unmistakable—sharp, knowing, predatory.

His eyes dragged over me, slow and deliberate. "Going somewhere, gorgeous?"

I tensed, unease curling in my gut. "Move."

He didn't. Instead, he inhaled—deep, deliberate.

"Fuck," he murmured, his smirk widening. "That scent… Sweet. Overripe. Just waiting to be devoured. You have no idea what you're doing to everyone in this room, do you?"

My breath caught.

"What?" I snapped, trying to compose myself.

His gaze darkened, flicking down to my parted lips, my heaving chest. "You smell like a bitch in heat, sweetheart. It's maddening." He leaned closer, voice dropping. "Or… maybe you do know."

No. No, this isn't normal.

Panic spiked through the haze clouding my mind. My fingers curled into a fist.

"I don't have time for this," I snarled.

Then—I struck.

My knee slammed into his ribs, hard and fast.

A sharp grunt tore from his lips as he stumbled back, cursing.

I didn't wait. I ran.

Straight to the entrance, to the guards standing at the doors.

"Theo," I gasped, breathless. "Where is he?"

One of them frowned before answering, "Saw him head into the woods a while ago."

The woods.

My heart pounded. I barely muttered a thanks before taking off.

The night air hit me like a slap, cool against my heated skin. My dress clung to me, damp with sweat, my pulse erratic. Too fast. Too wild.

I didn't stop.

I didn't think.

I just ran.

To Theo.

The ball, the heat, the murmurs faded behind me as I pushed into the trees. My body shouldn't have felt this hot, this desperate. What is happening to me? Every nerve in my body burned, my skin hypersensitive to the cold wind slicing through the trees.

Then I heard it—growls, the snap of jaws, the crush of bodies colliding.

I barely had time to react before I stumbled upon the hungry predators. Several wolves clashed in a chaotic blur—claws slashing, fangs snapping. My mind spun, struggling to process who was attacking who, but one thing was clear. They were fighting over me, to claim me.

All I could think was escape, however, I got caught before I could take off.

I twisted, panic surging through me, but then—he was there. Strong, commanding. He ripped through the chaos, his strength undeniable, his presence swallowing everything around him. He struck, sending the attacker sprawling, and before I could fully comprehend it, I was in his arms.

He didn't speak. He just moved.

Through the trees, past the fight, deeper into the woods, to our sanctuary. My body pressed against his, the warmth of him igniting something inside me I didn't understand. My fingers curled into his shirt.

Theo.

I knew his scent. Didn't I?

He carried me into the cave, the darkness wrapping around us, enclosing us in something that felt inevitable. The cool stone beneath me barely registered as he set me down on a rock. My legs felt weak, trembling, but the moment I looked at him, everything else fell away.

He was staring at me.

I barely remembered what happened after. Only the way my body had burned, and how I'd needed something—someone—to soothe the ache.

I breathed, my body instantly melting against him. "Something's wrong. I—I don't feel right."

I barely recognized my own voice. It was breathy, desperate, edged with something I couldn't name.

His hands tightened on my waist, his breathing deep and ragged.

My lips crashed against his and it felt like a sin for not tasting them before.

Heat flooded me, a tidal wave of raw, unbearable need. His hands gripped my hips, dragging me against him, pressing his hardness against my stomach.

I moaned, nails digging into his shirt, my body no longer my own. I wasn't thinking—there was no thought left, only feeling. Only him.

His hands roamed, yanking at my dress, tearing at the fabric until my thighs were bare to the cold night air.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice strained. "You're soaked."

A whimper slipped from my lips as his fingers slid between my thighs, parting me, pressing into my aching core.

"More," I gasped, rolling my hips against his touch.

He didn't hesitate.

One thick finger pushed inside me, slow and torturous, making my breath hitch. My walls clenched around him, desperate, hungry. He groaned, adding another, stretching me, curling just right.

The pressure coiled tighter, tighter—until it snapped.

I shattered, head tilting back, a cry breaking from my throat as my release ripped through me.

But he wasn't done.

Before I could recover, his hands gripped my hips, spreading me open.

Then—he was there. Thick. Hard. Pressing against my entrance.

My breath caught.

He didn't ease in. He slammed inside me in one hard thrust, filling me completely, splitting me open with delicious, devastating force.

A scream caught in my throat—pain, pleasure, overwhelming sensation all at once.

His hands tightened on my waist, his breath ragged against my neck.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, pulling back before slamming into me again. "You were made for me and you are mine."

I whimpered, my fingers digging into his skin, my body molding to his brutal rhythm.

I lost myself.

To the heat.

To him.

To the way he owned me.

I didn't know how long it lasted—once, twice, thrice? I lost count.

I only knew that each time he filled me, each time he tore me apart and put me back together, I needed more.

By the time exhaustion started creeping in, I was a trembling, boneless mess in his arms, as the world blurred into darkness.