Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 268

268 Flames

Lev’s POVO

Arya’s eyes softened a fraction at the sound of my approach, but there was still that guarded edge to her gaze, the remnants of whatever poison the old men had tried to feed her lingering like shadows. She stood there in the dim light of the room, the cream dress hugging her curves, her chest rising and falling with the remnants of her anger. I couldn’t stand it, the way she held herself back, as if she didn know she was already mine. I crossed the space between us in two strides, my hand reaching out to cup her face. My thumb settled on her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, still flushed from the journey and the late hour. She didn’t pull away. That small allowance sent a surge through me, possessive and unyielding. She was letting me in, inch by inch, and I’d take every one until there was no space left for doubt.

“You’re laughing at me,” she murmured, her voice a mix of suspicion and something softer.

“I’m admiring your priorities,” I replied, my tone low, laced with the hunger building in my gut.

“That sounds suspicious.”

“It should.”

I didn’t give her time to question further. My mouth crashed down on hers, starting soft as I intended, gentle, coaxing, but the taste of her, the way her lips parted under mine, ignited the fire I’d been holding back. My free hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her flush against me. She gasped into the kiss, her body molding to mine, and I deepened it, my tongue sweeping in to claim her mouth thoroughly. Possessiveness roared in my veins; no one else would ever touch her like this, feel her yield like this. She was mine to protect, mine to break open and rebuild.

Her hands came up to my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, not pushing away but holding on. That grip fueled me. I broke the kiss only to trail my lips along her jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck. “Don’t you dare think about going back to Dragonclaw. You’re staying,” I growled against her pulse, feeling it race under my mouth. It wasn’t a question. I wouldn’t let her leave this room, this

moment, without knowing she belonged here, with me.

She tilted her head back, exposing more of her throat, a silent invitation that made my cock twitch in

my pants.

“Who said I was thinking of leaving,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tremor in it.

Those words snapped something inside me. No drama, no hesitation, just surrender. I scooped her up

in one fluid motion, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I carried her to the bed. The

mattress dipped under our weight as I lowered her, but I didn’t let her settle fully. Instead, I pinned her

beneath me, my body covering hers completely, caging her in. My hands roamed possessively, one

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tangling in her hair to tilt her head back for another bruising kiss, the other shoving up the hem of her

dress to expose the smooth skin of her thighs.

She arched into me, her breath hitching as my fingers dug into her hip, holding her still. “Lev,” she

breathed, her eyes locking onto mine, wide with a mix of need and vulnerability.

I didn’t respond with words. Instead, I ground my hips against hers, letting her feel the hard length of my cock pressing through my pants against her core. She moaned softly, her body responding, hips lifting to seek more friction. That sound, hers, raw and wanting, drove me harder. I yanked the dress higher, bunching it around her waist, my hand sliding between her legs to cup her through her undergarments. She was already wet, the heat seeping through the fabric, and I growled low in my throat, possessive satisfaction flooding me. Only I did this to her. Only I made her this ready, this desperate.

“Mine,” I murmured against her lips, my fingers pressing harder, rubbing circles over her clit until she whimpered. I tore the fabric aside, exposing her pussy to the cool air of the room, and plunged two fingers inside her without warning. She cried out, her walls clenching around me, slick and tight. I pumped them slowly at first, stretching her, preparing her for what was coming. Her nails scraped down my back, urging me on, but I controlled the pace, dominant in every thrust of my hand.

“You feel that?” I rasped, curling my fingers to hit that spot inside her that made her gasp. “This is

what you do to me. What I do to you. No one else.”

Her eyes fluttered, but she nodded, her body trembling under my touch. I withdrew my fingers, bringing them to my mouth to taste her essence, sweet, musky, all Arya. The sight of her watching me, lips parted, made my control fray. I stripped off my shirt in one rough motion, tossing it aside, then worked my pants open, freeing my cock. It sprang out, thick and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. Her gaze dropped to it, hunger darkening her eyes, and I smirked, possessive pride swelling in my chest.

I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging her folds. “Look at me,” I commanded, waiting until her eyes met mine. Then, with a deliberate thrust, I sank into her, inch by inch, filling her pussy completely. She was so tight, so perfect, gripping me like she never wanted to let go. I groaned, the sensation overwhelming, but I held still for a moment, savoring the way her body

adjusted to mine, her walls fluttering around my length.

“Lev… please,” she begged, her voice breaking, hips trying to move beneath me.

I pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, my other gripping her thigh to spread her wider. “You don’t move unless I say,” I ordered, my voice rough with dominance. Then I started moving, slow, deep thrusts that had her moaning with every slide in and out. The bed creaked under us, the room filling

with the wet sounds of our joining, her gasps mingling with my grunts. I watched her face, the way pleasure twisted her features, her breasts heaving with each breath. Mine. All mine.

I released her wrists to shove the dress down, exposing her breasts. My mouth latched onto one

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nipple, sucking hard while I pinched the other, rolling it between my fingers. She arched, crying out, her pussy clenching tighter around my cock. The dual assault made her writhe, but I held her down, thrusting harder now, the pace building as the tension coiled in my gut. Sweat slicked our skin, the first

hints of morning light filtering through the curtains, but the world outside ceased to exist. There was

only her, under me, taking me, breaking for me.

I flipped her suddenly, pulling out just long enough to maneuver her onto her stomach. She gasped in surprise, but I didn’t give her time to protest. My hand pressed between her shoulder blades, holding her down as I yanked her hips up, positioning her ass in the air. “Stay,” I growled, slapping her cheek lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to sting, to remind her who was in control. She whimpered,

pushing back against me, and I rewarded her by slamming back into her pussy from behind. The new

angle let me go deeper, my cock hitting spots that made her scream into the pillow.

“Fuck, Arya,” I groaned, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks, marks that would remind her of this, of me, long after. I pounded into her relentlessly, the slap of skin on skin echoing, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure. One hand snaked around to rub her clit, circling fast and firm, pushing her toward the edge. She shattered first, her pussy spasming around me, milking my cock as she came with a muffled cry. The sight of her like that, possessed, claimed, coming undone, pushed me over. I thrust deep one last time, burying myself to the hilt as I spilled inside her, hot jets of cum filling her up, marking her from the inside out.

But I wasn’t done. Not yet. I pulled out slowly, watching my cum leak from her swollen pussy, a p ossessive thrill at the sight. Flipping her onto her back again, I caged her with my arms, kissing her fie rcely as I hardened once more inside her. “You’re not going anywhere,” I murmured, starting a slower rhythm now, grinding deep. Her body was sensitive, oversensitive, every movement drawing shudders from her, but she wrapped her legs around me, pulling me closer.

We moved together like that, the intensity shifting from frantic to something deeper, more consuming. I kissed down her neck, her collarbone, sucking marks into her skin, branding her as mine. My hands explored every inch, possessive caresses that left no part of her untouched. She whispered my name like a prayer, her fingers threading through my hair, and it fueled me, made me thrust harder, chasing

that connection.

The room grew warmer, the pale light of dawn strengthening, but time blurred. I lost count of how many times I brought her to the brink, teasing her with my fingers, my mouth, my cock. Once, I pulled her on top, but only to guide her movements, my hands on her hips dictating the pace, slow when I

wanted to savor, fast when I needed to hear her beg. She rode me like that, her breasts bouncing, pussy sliding down my length, and I sat up to capture a nipple in my mouth, biting just enough to make

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