Page 22 of Christmas with a Cursed Werewolf

"Briar..." My name falls from his lips like a prayer. "If anything happened to you?—"

I silence him with a kiss.

For a heartbeat, he remains frozen. Then something breaks inside him, and he's pulling me closer, kissing me back with desperate intensity. The castle's magic explodes around us—books flying from their shelves, candles flaring like miniature suns, the very air humming with power.

His hands tangle in my hair as he deepens the kiss, and I can feel the wolf stirring beneath his skin, demanding more. The curse fights against our connection, trying to force him away, but this time he doesn't let it win. Instead, he pulls me impossibly closer, as if he could absorb me into himself.

"Tell me to stop," he growls against my lips. "Tell me this isn't worth the risk."

"I can't…." I wind my arms around his neck, feeling the magic pulse between us like a living thing.

A groan tears from his throat, and suddenly he's lifting me, pressing me back against the nearest wall. The stone should be cold, but it feels warm, almost alive.

Everything feels alive—the magic, the castle, my own skin where it touches his.

His mouth trails down my neck, and I gasp at the sensation of fangs grazing sensitive flesh. The wolf is closer to the surface now, but I'm not afraid. Even as the curse writhes around us, trying to taint this moment, I can feel something else building—something pure and powerful and right.

"The magic," I manage between kisses. "Can you feel it?"

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and the silver in his gaze is brighter than ever. "It's stronger with you. Everything is stronger with you."

The admission seems to cost him something, but before he can retreat behind his walls again, I pull him back to me. This kiss is deeper, slower, filled with all the things we haven't said. His hands slide down my sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and I arch into his touch.

The castle trembles around us, magic surging through ancient stones like blood through veins. Books continue to swirl through the air, their pages rustling like wings. Even theshadows seem to dance, responding to the energy that builds between us.

Ronan's hands skim higher, pushing the fabric of my shirt up to my breasts. My breath catches in my throat as his fingers brush the sensitive undersides, thumbs brushing the edges of my lace bra.

"I dreamed of having you…," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. His lips follow the path of his fingers, placing soft kisses along my collarbone, down to the valley between my breasts.

My head falls back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth closes over my pulse point. His tongue teases the sensitive skin, and I can feel the magic in the air around us responding, a tangible energy that pulls us closer together.

He cups my breasts in his palms, thumbs stroking over the delicate fabric. I can feel his wolf within him, the animalistic nature that demands more. My body arches instinctively into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Ronan's mouth trails lower, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire across my skin. His thumbs hook into the straps of my bra, tugging them down slowly until the lace slides off my shoulders, baring me to him.

The air in the room seems to shimmer, thick with magic and desire. I can feel the connection between us, a force that goes beyond the physical, beyond even the supernatural. It's a soul-deep bond that pulls us inexorably closer, as if we're two magnets unable to resist.

He takes one tight peak into his mouth, sucking gently, and I cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair. The sensation shoots straight between my legs, and I'm suddenly aware of how wet I am, how much I need him.

He shifts his attention to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, and the coil of tension inside me tightensfurther. My hips rock against his, seeking friction, but he holds me firmly in place with one hand on my lower back, his body pressing me against the wall.

"Ronan, please," I whisper, not sure what I'm asking for, but knowing I need something more.

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against my skin. "Not yet, moya lyubov. I want to hear you come undone first."

"Moya—"

"My love…"

His mouth closes over my peak again, his tongue flicking and teasing, and his hand slides down to the waist of my jeans. With one smooth motion, he unbuttons and unzips my pants, slipping his hand inside to find me already wet and ready for him.

His fingers delve deeper, stroking and circling, and I can feel the pleasure building, tightening like a spring inside me. The castle's magic swirls around us, alive with our desire, feeding off it, and strengthening the bond between us.

Ronan's thumb presses against my clit, circling slowly, and I can't hold back the moan that escapes my lips. "That's it, Briar. Let go."

And I do. My body shudders as the pleasure explodes through me, waves of sensation pulsing through every nerve ending. I cry out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the air around us. My fingers tighten in his hair, anchoring myself to him as I lose myself in the overwhelming bliss.

With each stroke, the intensity builds, sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. I feel my hips pressing against his hand, instinctively seeking more, craving the exquisite friction that keeps me teetering on the edge.

---