Page 29 of Betrayed Auctioned Mate

“Mine,” he repeats. He kisses me hard enough that I see stars, consuming my being, having me whole. I realize that as I kiss him back: he has me.

His thumb circles my clit. I groan so loudly that I’d be surprised if everyone on the floor didn’t hear it. I’m going to need to wash the sheets.

He plunges a finger inside me. I wrap my arms tight around his neck and fight not to howl with need. “Ado—Ado, God, Ado… I need you, please, I need you—”

He hooks his finger, and I almost scream, hips angling up off the bed. I don’t know how he knows how to touch me like that, but he does. The thumb of the same hand flicks torturously over my clitoris, and my mouth opens wide, but no sound escapes. It’s bliss so intense that it is an inch from torment.

“Keira,” he murmurs. His finger leaves me. He rolls a condom on, and then I feel himself position his member at my entrance.

He enters me fast and fully, then seats himself there for a moment, unmoving, thumb still moving in slow circles over my clit. We’re both panting, fuzzy-eyed, mad with lust.

“I love you,” I hear him say through the mist. “Fuck, I love you.”

He kisses me and pulls out, then pushes back in, setting off his rhythm. I bare my entire self to him, back arching, chest rising. I feel my hard nipples brush his warm chest. He bites my earlobe, then bears down on my throat with his teeth as if he’d tear me apart if he could.

The pressure of his thumb increases. His thrusts speed up, and my vision whites out as the white-hot core of arousal inside me comes apart—I wrap my legs around him and wail, every muscle in my body tightening,

As if from another room, I hear my voice repeating his name like a prayer.

Ado makes me come twice that night. After, both mind-blown, sweaty, and in need of a bath, we lie side-by-side on my bed, his arm around my naked waist, my chest and core pressed to his side.

My brain feels like it still hasn’t come back to full capacity yet. When I try to string a thought together, it dissolves like wet paper, losing its shape.

One of Ado’s hands moves to sweep my sweaty hair back out of my face. He runs his thumb over the hickey blooming on my neck.

“Love you,” he says tiredly, halfway asleep. Would he say it if he was in his right mind? “Meant it.”

He falls asleep. I try not to, but an instant later, I feel the room as it seems to lose its form around us, and everything falls away from me.

I dream I’m back in New York, in my tiny apartment. Strangers on the street below, outside of my small, grimywindow, seem to move in blurs, smudging into one continuous color. I don’t know any of them, and they don’t know me. I am unloved, I think, and I’ll be unloved forever if I stay here. I have to go before it’s too late, before what happened to me eats me alive. I’ve been letting it kill me slowly. Soon, it’s going to finish the job.

The skyscrapers melt into the ground like plants receding in winter. I watch stars spin up into the sky above me, sparks flying. I am in Rosecreek again, with the pack—Olivia laughs, her arm laced through mine, pulling me along. Halfmoon Lake shines in the impossible midnight glow ahead of us. The streetlights paint the town golden and I belong. I don’t know how it happened, but I belong.

My eyes flutter open, and the dim outline of the room comes into focus. Ado is still beside me, his breath slow and steady, deep in sleep.

The room is still like the gentle, persistent calm after a storm. My phone tells me it’s three in the morning. There’s something special about these hours in the middle of the night. I strain my ears and hear not a single thing moving in the entire building for the first time in days.

I shift slightly, careful not to wake him. My bare skin brushes against the cool sheets, and I realize how vulnerable I feel. He peeled me open. I am an open wound.

Ado’s profile in my periphery keeps my attention like a car crash. His face is relaxed, peaceful in sleep, but his words hang like smoke in the air of the room. He said it like it was nothing, like those words didn’t carry the power to shatter everything I’d been trying to protect. I wonder if he would have said it in the cold light of day.

A part of me wants to believe him. Wants to believe that after everything we’ve been through, maybe this is our second chance. But another part of me—the part that’s spent years building a fort around my heart—can’t help but question it. I could easily be setting myself up for another fall. And I can’t go through that again. I wouldn’t survive it.

I roll onto my side and dig the side of my face into my pillow, studying Ado’s profile. The soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his brow furrows ever so slightly even in sleep. It’s hard to reconcile this man with the one who stormed into and then out of my life so many years ago, with his silent, fierce loyalty, his eyes holding that unspoken promise that he would never allow me to forget him for all my days.

Chapter 16 - Ado

I lie as still as I can, just watching her breathe. Keira’s face is peaceful, relaxed in sleep, and for a moment, the memory of everything that happened last night fades into the background. I study the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her hair falls messily across the pillow. I try to etch it into my mind forever. I don’t want to forget what she looks like right now, softened by sleep.

Morning light is already rising over Rosecreek. I have to leave before the others catch wind of this.

I move carefully off the bed, trying not to disturb Keira. She shifts slightly, her hand brushing against my arm as if she’s reaching for me even in sleep, and I freeze. My breath catches. I almost want her to wake up, see her eyes meet mine, and deal with whatever comes next. But I can’t.

Today's the day of the mission. She needs her sleep—especially with how much of it I took from her last night.

I carefully ease myself out of bed, standing slowly to make sure she stays asleep. Grabbing my clothes from the floor, I tug them on. I need a shower—I can wash up in my own room, I decide.

I glance back at Keira one more time despite myself before slipping out of the room. All these indulgences only serve to make me desperate for more.

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