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Chapter 223
~Valerie’s POV~
The kiss deepened, hungrily, as if the world outside this room no longer mattered. Every part of me was on fire.
Dristan’s hands were no longer tentative. He gripped my waist like he was anchoring himself to me, like letting go would break him.
I arched into him before I even realized it, my body betraying every shred of pride I had left.
I wasn’t supposed to want this again—not this badly—but Dristan had always known how to unravel me with a single look... And now, with his lips on mine, there was no turning back.
He pressed me gently into the wall beside the door, one arm braced above my head, the other curled around my lower back, pulling me flush against his chest.
Every hard line of him met every soft edge of me.
I gasped when his fingers skimmed beneath the hem of my shirt, cool against the fevered heat of my skin. He paused, giving me a second to stop him, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of some crazy reason or any reason at all, I just didn’t want to.
Instead, I tugged him closer.
Driatan’s mouth left mine only to trail slow and torturous kisses down my neck as each press of his lips ignited sparks.
My breath hitched when he reached that one sensitive spot just beneath my jaw—and lingered. My hands found his hair, threading through the golden strands, urging him on.
"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured against my throat.
"I think I do," I whispered, barely recognising the sound of my own voice. "And I... I want it. I want you, Dristan."
"That’s the best answer I’ve heard in years, Valerie. I want you too."
He kissed me with the same urgency again, our tongues colliding as our hands roamed around each other.
I slid my hands underneath his black baggy shirt, and my fingers met with hard muscles, tracing over his abs and sliding up to his chest and nipples.
Dristan sucked in a deep breath and shuddered when my fingers pinched his nipples lightly.
My lips curled at the side as I broke our kiss and in one swift move, I held the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head.
His shirt was in my hands before I could talk myself out of it, and the second it hit the floor, I took a shaky breath.
Dristan was a storm made flesh—powerful, intense, impossible to ignore. The faint silver markings along his ribs shimmered, pulsing like ancient sigils.
My fingers traced them instinctively.
His breath caught. "Val..."
I looked up at him, and he swallowed his words. From the look in his eyes and the way his fingers hovered on my waist, I knew he was trying to hold back, but I did not want him to do something so stupid.
"I need this," I said, maintaining eye contact with Dristan. "I need you."
And this time, I was sure it wasn’t the heat talking. It was everything; it was me and the bond.
I wanted it all.
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