Page 38 of Unravelled
"Poor thing," she murmured, her voice laced with amusement, with challenge. His breath hitched. Just slightly. But she caught it. She was going to enjoy this.
He let out a quiet curse under his breath, his jaw tightening as Mira’s fingertip ghosted over his chest, trailing lower, teasing. His body was taut, every muscle wound tight as if caught between retreating and pressing forward.
He didn’t retreat.
He exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into something resembling control, though his green eyes betrayed him. They darkened, locked onto her like she was prey.
"You really enjoy this, don’t you?" he murmured, laced with frustration and desire.
Mira feigned a thoughtful expression. "Enjoy what?" Her finger traced an idle path down his stomach.
His lips curled into something caught between a smirk and a grimace. "Torturing me."
She laughed softly, the sound slipping between them like silk. "Oh, this?" she murmured, leaning in just enough for her breath to warm his skin. "It’s not torture if you like it." And navigators above, she could feel just how much he did.
His hand shot out, catching her wrist firmly before she could go any further. Just enough to make her pulse quicken. She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. He was always composed. Always smug and in control. But now? Now she had him unravelling.
She could see it in the way his throat bobbed, in the way his grip flexed around her wrist. And then, with a deliberate slowness that sent heat pooling low in her, he lowered her hand to his waistband. A dare. A challenge. Her fingers curled just slightly, teasing at the edge of the fabric, and she felt the tension ripple through him, his muscles coiling tight beneath her touch. His hands found her hips, fingers pressing in, gripping her like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.
It came out barely a whisper. “Mira, please… touch me.” His voice was low, wrecked.
The sound of him begging sent a rush of heat through her, igniting something deep and dangerous in her chest. What she would do to hear him beg again. A wicked smile ghosted across her lips as she reached inside his waistband, her fingers wrapping around him.
She began stroking slow, deliberate. His head dropped forward, a sharp inhale breaking into a low groan. He tightened his hold on her. An involuntary jerk of his hips met her touch. His self-control crumbling with each passing moment.
"Mira," His voice was a rasp, desperate, pleading. His forehead rested against hers, his breath ragged, uneven. "Don’t stop."
She wouldn’t. She kept her movements measured, torturously slow. Drinking in every reaction, every shudder, every sharp inhale, every curse that slipped past his lips. He moaned, his body tensing, his hands flexing against her hips like he was trying so damn hard to hold on. He growled low in his throat before moving.Smooth, sudden. She gasped as he spun her, pressing her back into the ivy's cool embrace.
Before she could teasing him for losing control, his hands were already on her thighs, rough and impatient. He lifted her skirts, fingers dragging up the bare skin of her legs, setting her nerves alight. Then he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, their bodies pressing flush against each other.
"Mira," he breathed, his lips barely brushing her jaw, his voice thick, wrecked. "If you don't want this you need to tell me.."
She exhaled shakily and nodded, "I want this," she whispered, every word laced with longing. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. "I want you." Their mouths met in a kiss that was anything but tentative. Urgent, consuming, a collision of desperation and desire. Her focus narrowed to him. Hard and insistent against her, pressing exactly where she needed him. A gasp slipped from her lips, pleasure sparking through her, and he chuckled, low and dark.
"You feel that?" he murmured, rocking into her just enough to make her whimper. His mouth ghosted along her skin, his breath warm, teasing. "That’s what you've done."
Another roll of his hips, slow, deliberate, making her eyes roll back. His grip on her thighs tightened, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he held her against the wall, as if anchoring himself. His lips skimmed the column of her throat, his voice rough with frustration and want.
"Do you have any idea," he rasped, rocking into her again, and she matched him, grinding back, pulling another gasp from both of them, "what it was like to watch you tonight?"
She tried to form words, but he rolled his hips again, and all that came out was a sharp inhale, her fingers tightening in his hair.
"That damned dress…" His voice was almost a growl. "Every damn man in that room wanted to devour you." He bit down gently at the curve of her neck, then soothed the mark with his tongue. Mira swallowed hard, her body thrumming.
"And you didn’t like that?" she teased breathlessly. His grip on her thighs flexed. Another thrust, rougher, harder. She moaned. He let out a sharp growl, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers pressing in possessively. His fingers flexed against her.
“You had to dance with him.” His other hand fumbled at his waistband, urgency roughening his movements. A sharp breath, a low curse. He freed himself, the heat of him pressing against her. Mira bit her lip, with a satisfied hum. “You sound jealous.” A low growl rumbled through his chest, and in an instant, he snapped hiships forward, forcing a gasp from her lips as she arched against him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“You wanted me to be,” he accused, his voice a husky rasp. His breath came fast, uneven, his grip bruising as he rocked into her again, making her feel exactly how much she had undone him. The heat between them was overwhelming, intoxicating. She could barely think beyond the pleasure building between them, but what she did saw was him dancing with a daughter from the Vaeloria family.
His lips curved, dark and sharp. He could tell what she was thinking about. “I danced with her,” he murmured, his voice low, “because I wanted to see you break first.” His lips ghosted over hers, teasing, never quite closing the distance. “I wanted to see if you’d come to me, if you’d show even a flicker of jealousy.” He thrust against her again, harder this time, pulling a breathless moan from her lips, making her grip his shoulders tighter. “And gods, when I saw you watching me, when your eyes darkened just so,” He let out a sharp breath, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her jaw. “It nearly fucking ended me.”
Mira exhaled shakily, her pride warring with the molten heat pooling in her belly, her hips moving in time with his. “You smiled at me,” she challenged, her voice uneven but defiant. “You winked. Like you were winning.”
A dark chuckle escaped him, low and breathless. “I thought I was,” he admitted, shifting one hand to brace against the wall, grinding against her slowly, torturously. “I thought I had you right where I wanted you.” His lips trailed down her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the mark he had left. “And then you walked right into his arms.” His breath turned ragged, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “I saw his hands on you,” he murmured, fingers pressing into her skin. “Saw the way he looked at you.” But his voice it wasn’t anger or jealousy. It was something else, something darker, more primal. “And you didn’t just turn away,” he exhaled, his tone thick with heat. “You played with me.” Mira took a slow, shuddering breath. “You knew I was watching. Knew exactly what you were doing.” His lips brushed her ear, a voice like a heated promise. “And I loved it.”
Her nails raked down his back, her breath uneven, her body on fire. “Loved it so much,” she murmured, “that you had to run off into the gardens?”
