Page 47 of Sold to the Nalgar
He could pin her, strip her, and mark her, but she would remain intact.
Unbroken.
Even as she felt how close she was to shattering.
Her thoughts blurred. Her body was too aware of him: his heat, his weight, his strength.
She’d expected brutality. That would have made sense.
Instead, he moved slowly, deliberately, as if he had all the time in the universe.
His knee slid between her thighs, opening her. Her robe parted, baring her legs to the cool air. To him.
Her heart hammered.
Then he lowered himself… his face between her thighs.
She stiffened.
This shouldn’t feel like this. She’d been stolen, imprisoned.
And yet…
Anticipation curled hot in her belly. Her skin tingled. Her hips betrayed her with a twitch.
His breath ghosted over her inner thigh.
She stared at the ceiling, fury and humiliation colliding with something darker.
How the hell did he know?
He wasn’t human, yet he moved like a man who understood everything.
It felt like he had known her body from the first inhale, reading it without translation.
She’d never felt anything like this.
Like a force of nature that didn’t ask permission.
But there was reverence too, a strange restraint, as if he worshipped even as he conquered.
He hadn’t even touched her there yet.
Her body trembled, and not just from fear.
No. Don’t,she told herself as her body betrayed her, as her mind splintered.
She barely had time to brace before his mouth was on her.
Her whole body jolted, spine bowing, wrists pinned helplessly. His strength pressed into her with devastating precision.
A raw sound escaped her throat.
He didn’t stop.
And gods, he knew. Each flick of his tongue, each slow press, dragged her further from resistance.
It was overwhelming. Shameful. Shattering.
