Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Seraphina’s POV

Mortimer’s gaze was a silent, scorching weight, pinned right on me.

Something was off.

The air felt heavy. I followed his line of sight down and my heart skipped a beat.

The silk of my robe had betrayed me, sliding low enough to expose the line of my collarbone and the curve of my chest under the warm amber lights.

I felt a jolt of panic and yanked the lapels shut, trying to kill the sudden, sùffocating tension.

But the movement only made it worse. The slight rush of air seemed to fan the sparks between us.

I watched Mortimer’s pupils blow wide, his dark eyes swallowing the light.

His Alpha pheromones turned thick, syrupy, and dangerously aggressive.

He surged off the sofa and lunged toward me.

At five-seven, I’m not short, but against his six-foot-three frame, I was completely swallowed by his shadow. It was pure predatory aura.

I scrambled back, my spine hitting the bathroom door.

It hadn’t clicked shut, so the second I leaned on it, it swung wide.

The floor vanished. Gravity took over, and I started to go down, falling backward into the bathroom.

“Ah-!”

I clawed at the air, desperate for a handhold. My fingers clamped onto something cold and metallic.

The sharp, heavy sound of a buckle snapping open echoed in the small space.

My center of gravity was still failing, but then a literal iron bar of an arm slammed around my waist.

A raw, terrifying strength yanked me upward.

A split second later, I was crushed against a chest that felt like a furnace. 1

The smell hit me instantly-cedar and pine, mixed with a jagged, heart-stopping heat.

I was buried in him, gasping for air, my brain still trying to process the fall. I was so rattled I didn’t even realize I was still clutching the heavy object in my hand.

Then came a low, dark chuckle from just above my head. It hit me like a lightning strike.

I was trapped in his grip, the robe sliding completely off one shoulder in the struggle.

But the real problem was my hand. I was death-gripped onto Mortimer’s belt buckle.

The metal teeth were disengaged. That click felt like a gunshot in the quiet bathroom.

Between the “damsel in distress” move and the fact that I’d just stripped his belt, the vibe was pure, unadulterated sex. It was an accident, but in this steam-filled box, it looked like an invitation.

My skin burned. The buckle felt like red-hot iron, and I tried to yank my hand away.

Mortimer didn’t let me. His massive palm slammed over the back of my hand, pinning my fingers against the cold metal with a

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Chapter 54

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heavy, dominant force.

I felt his chest vibrate with another low laugh. My scent glands started to flare, the mating bond sending high-voltage shocks through my fingertips.

“You already went for the belt,” he rasped, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. “Why stop now?”

We were too close. I could hear his heart thundering like a war drum, a rhythm so infectious it started to drag my own pulse into the same frantic pace.

His pheromones exploded. It wasn’t just a scent anymore; it was a drug, thick and scorching, sliding into my lungs and numbing every defense I had left.

I thought I was over him, but my body was a traitor.

My wolf was screaming in my head, a raw, primitive sound, begging for him to mark us, to touch us, to finish what started.

My legs went to water. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would’ve hit the marble floor.

“Mortimer, let go,” I whispered, trying to find a shred of logic to hold onto.

I looked up, and our eyes collided.

The shift in his face was terrifying.

The smug, playful smirk vanished. It was replaced by a look of total obsession-a raw, starving hunger.

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