CHAPTER 438: MAKE YOUR OWN

Warning: Slightly Mature content in the Chapter

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Evaline:

I could have told him to stop. I knew that. One word from me and he would have pulled back, even if it killed him to do so. But I didn’t want to.

Not even for a second.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like the world itself might hear it. The air between us burned, thick with tension and unspoken need. My throat felt dry, my thoughts scattered, yet my body knew exactly what it wanted.

I turned my face slightly and pressed my lips to his cheek, whispering against his warm skin, "You should finish what I couldn’t."

The moment those words slipped out, his breath caught... and then he kissed me.

There was nothing soft about it... again. His lips crashed against mine like a storm meeting the shore - hot, desperate, consuming. I gasped, my fingers curling against the hard wood as if I could ground myself, but the world tilted anyway.

His lips moved with a hunger that stripped every layer of my restraint. He kissed me as though I were air itself and he had been suffocating for years.

When his tongue brushed my lips, I parted my lips, giving him the entrance he sought. The second our mouths parted, he deepened the kiss - urgent, wild, claiming. A small sound escaped me, one I hadn’t meant to make, but he swallowed it like it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

His hands, which had been holding my wrists, finally released me... only for them to slide down to my waist, strong and possessive. Before I could even steady my breath, he lifted me effortlessly.

A startled gasp left me as my body instinctively clung to him - legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck. My heart was pounding against his chest... I could feel his every heartbeat in return.

He closed the small distance to the bed and lowered me slowly, his lips never leaving mine, his breath mingling with my own. It was dizzying. Even when he broke the kiss to breathe, he didn’t go far. His lips traced a burning trail down my jaw, over my neck, until they found the curve of my shoulder.

I hadn’t realized until then that the shirt had slipped down on one side. His breath grazed my bare skin, and my pulse skipped. When his mouth found that familiar mark on my neck - the one that once bound me to Draven - I couldn’t stop the moan that tore from my throat. The sound came from somewhere deep, raw, beyond my control.

Every time one of them touched that mark, something inside me shattered and melted all at once. It was maddening - the way my body responded without permission, the way heat curled through me, fierce and consuming.

My breath hitched as he lingered there, his tongue tracing the spot with deliberate, slow strokes that made every nerve in my body tremble.

He drew back just enough to look at me. His eyes were darker than I had ever seen them, a storm of hunger and something deeper... something almost vulnerable.

"Evaline," he breathed, my name coming out rough and low, like a plea he couldn’t hold back.

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I whispered back, "Don’t stop."

A muscle in his jaw flexed, and then he smiled - a dangerous, breathtaking thing. Without another word, he sat back slightly and began to unbutton his shirt.

One button, then another. My breath caught as the smooth planes of his chest came into view. His movements were unhurried but filled with intent, each motion revealing another inch of perfectly sun-kissed skin, the kind that begged to be touched. When the last button came undone, he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

I couldn’t help myself. My fingers reached out, wanting to trace the sharp lines of his shoulders, to feel the heat radiating from him. But he caught my wrists again, pressing them gently against the mattress above my head, his gaze holding mine captive.

"Patience," he murmured, his breath ghosting over my lips.

Then he kissed me again... slower this time, deeper, as though savoring every heartbeat between us. His free hand trailed down, brushing the side of my thigh before sliding up along my waist. My pulse raced as his fingers found the buttons of the shirt I wore... and began undoing them one by one. The sound of each button slipping free echoed loud in the silence of the room.

By the time he undid the last one, I could barely breathe. He paused, his lips close to my ear, whispering, "May I?"

I nodded before my thoughts could catch up. He helped me sit up slightly, his fingers brushing against my back as he slipped the shirt off my shoulders. The cool air met my heated skin, making me shiver, though the warmth in his gaze nearly set me aflame all over again.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing my collarbone, then lower. My hands trembled when they found his hair, soft and thick between my fingers. I tilted my head back, trying to catch my breath as his mouth moved over one of my nipples, slow and reverent.

Every kiss he placed felt like a confession he couldn’t voice.

"Don’t look away," he whispered against my skin, his voice rough. "I want you to see what you do to me."

I met his gaze, my heart twisting painfully at the rawness in his eyes. For a moment, all the air left my lungs. There was hunger there, yes, but also something else... something fragile. Something real.

He continued to kiss his way up my neck, then captured my lips once more. The kiss this time was different - tender, aching, full of emotion. His hand slid down my back, steadying me as if I might fall apart. Maybe I already was.

When he finally pulled back, our breaths mingled in the space between us. "Do you have any idea," he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine, "how long I have wanted this?"

My voice came out a whisper. "Maybe as long as I have tried not to."

A low sound escaped him - half laugh, half groan - and then his lips were back on mine. Every movement felt like it carried a thousand unsaid things - longing, regret, desire. We had been circling each other for too long, caught between what we shouldn’t feel and what we couldn’t deny.

His kisses grew gentler again, slower, tracing a path down my chin, my throat, my shoulder. I felt his breath tremble when he reached the mark again, but this time, instead of touching it, he pressed his forehead there and whispered, "I’m really, truly happy for Draven, but I also kind of hate that he gets to leave his mark on you first."

I cupped his face, my thumb brushing the edge of his jaw. "Then make your own," I said softly.

He lifted his head, his gaze locking with mine, and for a long moment neither of us moved. Then, slowly, he leaned in and kissed the side of my neck, right beside the mark. It wasn’t claiming... it was something else entirely. Gentle. Devoted. A promise made in silence.

When he pulled back, I saw the faintest smile curve his lips. His thumb brushed my cheek. "You are dangerous, dear mate," he murmured. "You make me forget who I am."

"And you," I whispered back, "make me remember who I want to be."