Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 8

8 Ava: Gala (IV).

8 Ava: Gala (IV)

[WARNING: Mature Content]

If someone had told me that, mere days after that incident with Todd, I’d be in a similar situation with a stranger and enjoying the fuck out of myself, I would have advised them to check in to a psych ward. That’s not how trauma works.

But apparently it might.

Maybe it’s just because he’s so… Tall. Dark. Handsome. All the cliches you can dream, that’s him. Especially when he makes no secret of his attraction toward me, despite all the harsh words Jessa and Mom had thrown my way while getting ready. Apparently this man doesn’t think I’m too short, or that my hips are too wide. He seems to like them a lot, actually.

So when I feel his tongue against my neck and realize that the sensation is completely different coming from someone like Tall, Dark, and Sexy, that primitive part of me goes absolutely wild.

14:37

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8 Ava: Gala (IV)

That voice inside of me, the one that’s absolutely me, tries to tell me that maybe I should step back and think for a second. That this connection is weird. That I don’t act like this, and I should really respect myself

more.

But the throbbing down below tells that voice to shut the fuck up and move over, that he’s my fated, and then it asks him to slam me against a wall. 

I have no idea where that level of bravado came from,

and when my back hits the rough bark of the tree to add more bruises to my body, desire floods everything in a way even romance novels hadn’t prepared me for.

Oh sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Sweet Moon Goddess. This man is magic. 

Feeling the hard length of him shoved against the very core of me should have me running for the hills, and it doesn’t. Nope. I arch closer instead, aching and begging for more, peppering kisses along his jaw and rolling my hips toward him. I moan in appreciation when he pushes back, almost inside me if my damn panties could just spontaneously combust and get out of the way, but the moan changes to frustration as his hips pull back.

14:37

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8 Ava: Gala (IV)

Then his fingers are there, yanking my panties to the side as he slides his cock up the wet lips of my pussy, and oh my God. 

So warm.

So hard.

Velvet and fuck me harder.

Please.

And the man keeps biting and suckling everywhere. I know I’m going to have marks all over my neck and shoulders, and my breasts ache to be touched, but everything’s kind of busy on my lower half as I pray and plead for him to go all the way in.

But he doesn’t, just slides up and down again, soaking himself in the juices I can feel running everywhere. I’m probably wetter than a slip’n’slide, and in my haze of desire, that doesn’t seem embarrassing at all.

“Please,” I whine, loving the rumble of his growl as he slams his hips into me, rubbing us together in the most delicious tease.

He keeps rocking as his hand returns to my hair, yanking my head back in an act of submission that

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8 Ava Gada (IV)

should have turned me off. Instead, I eagerly presented my neck, hoping he would bite and lick and suck again. Harder.

Hurt me, please. Fuck.

This bite is directly over my scar and makes my entire body twitch and hum as I rock against him harder, the pain doing sinful things to the place where we are so close to being connected.

And then I fall apart out of nowhere, sent so far over the cliff that I cleared it without realizing the end was

near.

His mouth slants over mine, hot and hard as he sucks out my scream, claiming it for himself.

His hips rock against me, hard and frantic, before his entire body tenses and shudders. The kiss ends in an abrupt movement as he bites my lip and groans, something warm spreading against my abdomen. I can feel the sharp pain in my lip and know I’m bleeding, and he sucks at it like it’s ambrosia, before resting his head against my shoulder in the afterglow.

I blink up at the stars, feeling my heart slow and my limbs grow heavy as the normal part of me takes over

14:3

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8 Ava Gala (IV)

my brain again.

He’s my fated mate, but–he’s also a stranger who

admitted to stalking me out here. Someone who said he was going to take me away.

And I want him to. I want him to.

Oh, my God.

The reality of what happened finally hits me like a freight train, and I can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I just let a complete stranger dry hump me against a tree, and I liked it. No, I loved it. What the hell is wrong with me? Fated or not, that’s…

I’m still trying to catch my breath when I feel his hands on me again, but this time, they’re gentle. He carefully adjusts my dress as best he can, despite the semen sticky against my abdomen. He does his best to pull it back into place and smooth out the wrinkles. Thankfully, the back fabric hides a lot, and I planned on changing at the hotel anyway. His touch is so tender, so loving, that it makes my heart ache in a way

I’ve never felt before.

What do I do now? Do I wait for him to come back? Do I run away and pretend this never happened? My heart is telling me to stay, but my brain is screaming at me to get the hell out of here. Plus, I need to run–in general. He’d mentioned me coming with him before we had, er, connected in the way we did. But he doesn’t even know who I am, and oh my God, he’s the

Oh my God. 

Then his eyes meet mine, and that sexy man from moments ago is gone. Gone.