His Abandoned Luna Chapter 62

|| Alaric’s POV ||

I smirked against her skin, my hands gripping her waist, holding her against me. Her moan was my salvation.

"Say it again," I murmured, my voice low, commanding, possessive.

She swallowed hard, her body stiffening for a moment before she relaxed into me. "Alaric," she repeated, her voice trembling with desire.

My hand moved to her breast, cupping it gently, feeling the weight of it in my palm. She was perfect-every curve, every inch of her. My thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it until it hardened under my touch. I couldn't help but smile against her skin. I loved how sensitive she was, how every touch, every caress, made her tremble.

I lowered my mouth to her neck again, my lips brushing against the delicate curve with a tenderness that belied the fire raging inside me. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and just a little sloppy, as if I couldn't quite contain the hunger she stirred in me. My tongue traced the line of her collarbone, savoring the warmth of her skin, the way it seemed to hum with life beneath my touch. She was so soft, so impossibly soft, and yet there was a strength in her, a quiet resilience that made her all the more intoxicating. I trailed my lips lower, down to the swell of her cleavage, my breath hot against her skin as I lingered there, drinking her in.

Her scent was everywhere-a heady mix of lavender and something floral and light, and the faint saltiness of her sweat, a reminder of how much she wanted me, how much she needed me. It was intoxicating, addictive, and I couldn't get enough. I kissed her there, slow and deep, my teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp, to make her arch into me. Her moan was soft, almost a whisper, but it sent a jolt of pleasure through me, straight to my core. That sound-it was mine, just like she was mine, and I wanted to hear it again and again, wanted to be the one who drew it from her lips every time.

Her hips moved against me, a subtle but unmistakable plea, and I felt my own body respond instinctively, pressing closer, harder, as if I could erase every inch of space between us. Her body was begging for more, and so was mine, but I wanted to take my time, to savor every second of this, of her. I wanted to memorize the way she felt, the way she tasted, the way she trembled under my touch. I wanted to brand this moment into my memory, to carry it with me always.

"You're so beautiful," I murmured against her skin, my voice low and rough with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

Her hands gripped the my half opened shirt, her knuckles white, and I could see the tension in her body, the way she was holding herself back. But I didn't want her to hold back. I wanted her to let go, to give herself to me completely.

My mouth moved lower, capturing her nipple between my lips. I flicked my tongue against it, swirling around the hardened peak, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed. Her hands moved to my hair, tangling in the strands, pulling me closer. I loved how responsive she was, how every move I made, every touch, every kiss, made her even more desperate.

"Ummm, Alaric," she moaned, her voice trembling with need, and I felt a surge of possessiveness. She was mine, and I would make sure she never forgot it.

"Ride me, Dove," I commanded, my voice a low growl that left no room for argument.

She shifted slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of my pants. With practiced ease, she unzipped me, freeing my hardness. Her fingers traced along my length, her touch feather-light but enough to make me groan. She licked her lips, her eyes dark with desire, before sliding off my lap and kneeling on the floor. Her lips touched the tip of my dick, and I hissed, my hand tangling in her hair as she took me into her mouth.

She moved in a rhythm, her tongue swirling around me, her lips tight and warm. I groaned, my head falling back as pleasure coursed through me. She gagged a few times, her arousal filling the room, and my wolf went wild, demanding I take her, claim her. But I held back, letting her set the pace, letting her pleasure me in a way that only she could.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I pulled her up, lifting her onto my lap again. She positioned herself over me, her core hovering above my hardness. I guided her down, watching as she took me in, inch by inch. She gasped, her body trembling as she adjusted to me, and then she began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

My hand slammed against her ass, the sharp sound echoing in the room, and she jolted, a cry leaving her lips. "Ah!"

She moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure, and I felt my control slipping. My hand slid down her side, fingers curling around her waist, pulling her closer as I thrust deeper, faster, losing myself in the rhythm of our bodies. Her core tightened around me, her inner walls clenching as she neared her climax. I could feel her shaking, her body trembling with the intensity of her pleasure.

I sped up, my movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Her face was flushed, covered in sweat, her hands gripping the pillow above her head as I thrust into her deeper and deeper, pushing her closer to the edge.

Finally, I felt it-the moment she shattered, her body convulsing around me as she cried out my name. Her climax triggered my own, and I came with a groan, filling her up as we both reached the peak of our pleasure.

I stayed inside her for a moment, our bodies still connected, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high. She collapsed onto my chest, her body limp and spent, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

She was mine. And I would never let her go.