Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 153

ADELE'S POV

I couldn't believe it.

Lucien was kissing me.

Not a dream. Not my imagination filling in the blanks of everything he'd denied me for four long months. His mouth was on mine—hot, demanding, angry like he'd finally snapped and decided to take what he'd been pretending he didn't want.

My heart slammed so hard against my ribs it hurt.

For a split second, I was frozen. Too shocked to move. Too stunned to breathe. Because this was the same man who'd spent months pulling away the moment things got heated. The same man who wouldn't look at me for too long. Wouldn't touch me. Wouldn't even stand too close.

And now?

Now he was kissing me like he wanted to devour me.

Like he wanted to erase every second of restraint he'd ever forced on himself.

His lips were rough and desperate, moving against mine with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. I gasped—and he took advantage of it instantly, his mouth deepening the kiss, tongue sliding against mine like he'd been starving for the taste.

A low sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.

His body pressed into mine, solid and overwhelming, and I felt everything at once—the heat, the strength, the tension vibrating through him like a live wire.

Goddess.

This was Lucien.

My mate.

The man who hadn't kissed me once since the bond snapped into place four months ago.

And now he was kissing me like another man looking at me had finally pushed him over the edge.

My hands moved on instinct, fisting into his shirt like I was afraid he'd disappear if I didn't hold on tight enough. My fingers trembled as I clutched him, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.

He groaned into my mouth.

The sound went straight through me.

It wasn't polite. Or controlled. It was raw—like he was breaking apart right there with me.

His hand slid down my side, gripping my waist hard, pulling me closer until there wasn't even a breath of space between us. I felt him—every inch of his hard body pressed against mine—and my knees nearly buckled.

This was everything I'd wanted.

His teeth caught my lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make me moan. The sound was swallowed immediately as his mouth claimed mine again, deeper this time, rougher. Like he wanted to brand the taste of him into me so I'd never forget it.

My head spun.

Four months of frustration, confusion, rejection—and suddenly he was here, touching me like I belonged to him.

Like he was done pretending otherwise.

His hand slid up my side and closed around my breast, squeezing hard through the fabric of my top. The sharp intake of breath that left me was embarrassing and completely uncontrollable.

"Lucien—" I gasped.

He didn't let me finish.

His other hand shot up, pinning both my wrists above my head against the wall. His grip was firm but not painful, holding me in place like he needed me exactly where I was.

The power in it made my body arch without permission.

My back pressed into the cold stone, the contrast making every sensation sharper. His mouth left mine, trailing along my jaw, down my neck. His lips kissed, sucked, lingered—slow and deliberate, like he was marking territory he'd waited too long to claim.

I moaned again, louder this time.

He groaned in response, the sound deep and broken, and I felt it vibrate against my skin. His hips shifted, pressing into me, and I nearly lost it.

I could feel how hard he was.

Could feel him grinding against me like he was barely holding himself back.

My legs shook.

"Please… don't stop." I whispered, my voice trembling.

I didn't even recognize myself.

The words fell from my mouth like a plea, not prideful or guarded—just honest.

Just needy.

He groaned.

His grip tightened, and suddenly he lifted me like I weighed nothing. I let out a startled cry as my legs wrapped around his waist automatically, clinging to him like my body knew exactly what it wanted.

He pressed me back against the wall again, harder this time, grinding into me until the friction made stars burst behind my eyes.

"Oh, Goddess," I breathed.

Every nerve ending was on fire.

His mouth crashed back onto mine, the kiss messy and consuming. Tongues tangled. Teeth clashed. Breath mingled. It wasn't soft—it was desperate. Like two people who'd been holding back for too long and were finally losing the fight.

His hand returned to my breast, squeezing, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak until I gasped into his mouth. My hips moved against him without thinking, chasing the pressure I needed so badly.

I wanted more.

So much more.

Grinding wasn't enough.

Touching wasn't enough.

I wanted to feel all of him. Wanted him inside me. Wanted the bond sealed in the only way that mattered.

"Lucien," I whispered again, my voice breaking. "Please."

He groaned—long and low—and for a moment, I thought he was going to give in. His body tensed like a coiled spring. His breathing turned harsh, uneven. I felt his control slipping, felt his wolf pressing closer to the surface.

His eyes snapped open.

They glowed…a deep, unnatural brown, like he was fighting something fierce inside himself.

And then—

He stopped.

Just like that.

He pulled back abruptly, his hands leaving me like I'd burned him. The sudden loss of contact was jarring. My body swayed as he dropped me to the ground, my legs trembling so badly I almost collapsed.

I barely caught myself against the wall.

My chest heaved as I struggled to breathe, my skin buzzing, aching, unsatisfied.

Lucien staggered back a step, then another, dragging a hand through his hair like he was trying to ground himself. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

I stared at him, stunned.

My lips were swollen. My body was on fire. My heart was pounding like I'd just been thrown off a cliff—and he was stepping away from me again.

"Lucien?" I whispered.

He shook his head, not looking at me.

"I'm sorry, Adele," he said roughly. "This shouldn't have happened."

The words hit harder than any slap.

Shouldn't have happened?

After four months of pushing me away?

After kissing me like that?

Before I could say anything—before I could scream, cry, or beg him not to walk away—he turned.

And left.

Just like that.

He practically ran out the door, leaving me alone in the room, breathless and shaking, my body still humming with everything he'd started and refused to finish.

I slid down the wall slowly, my legs giving out as the reality crashed over me.

My fingers pressed against my swollen lips.

My skin still burned where he'd touched me.

My heart ached in ways I couldn't explain.

I'd never been this close to him.

Never.

And he'd pulled away again.

Why?

I stared at the empty doorway, my chest tight, frustration and desire tangling into something painful and sharp.

"What are you hiding, Lucien?" I whispered to the silence.

I knew he wasn't just afraid of wanting me.

He was afraid of something else entirely.

But what?