Page 31 of Christmas with a Cursed Werewolf

His control shatters. In one fluid motion, he lifts me onto the nearest table, scattering papers and books. I don’t care. All that matters is his touch, his taste, the way our magic intertwines, blurring the lines between us.

Clothes fall away, each new inch of skin revealed drawing gasps and moans. His mouth traces patterns down my throat, across my collarbone. When he takes my breast in his mouth, I arch off the table with a cry.

The castle's magic surges around us, responding to our desire. Light blooms in dark corners, and the air pulses withenergy. But I barely notice, consumed by the feel of Ronan's hands, his mouth, his skin against mine.

When he slides into me, I sense our connection on a soul-deep level. It's as if we’re merging, our magic binding us together.

We pause, breathless, staring into each other's eyes as the reality of our actions washes over us. Then he moves, and my thoughts scatter.

His mouth crushes mine, tongues tangling with urgency. My hands grip his shoulders, feeling the play of muscles under his skin as he moves above me. His hips thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me, and I meet his rhythm, moving in perfect sync.

The table creaks beneath us, the ancient wood groaning in protest, yet neither of us cares. Our clothes are a tangle on the floor, forgotten as we surrender to our desires. His mouth trails down my body, branding every inch of my skin with kisses and bites that make me arch and moan.

"Ronan," I gasp as his mouth closes around my nipple, sucking gently.

His hand slides between my thighs, fingers finding my core and stroking my clit with firm, relentless circles. My back arches off the table, my hips lifting to meet his touch as pleasure coils tightly within me.

His hands grip my hips, tugging me closer to the edge, and then he's kneeling before me.

"I need to taste you," he growls, his voice hoarse with need.

"Ronan," I whisper, not sure what I'm trying to say.

He pushes me gently onto my back, his mouth trailing lower. Then his tongue delving between my folds, all words flee my mind.

He's savoring me with long, slow licks. I cry out, twisting my hands in his hair as he feasts on me with a desperation that matches my own.

I grip the edges of the table, knuckles white, as pleasure rolls through me.

My hips bucking against his mouth. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he pushes me closer to the edge. My head tips back, eyes closing as I surrender to the pleasure.

"Ronan," I gasp, "please!"

"Not yet," he says, his voice low and dangerous. He slides two fingers inside me, curling them in a way that has me seeing stars.

His mouth never relents, licking and sucking at my most sensitive places. The pleasure is nearly unbearable, but I can't stop myself from grinding against his face, seeking more.

He pulls away suddenly, and I whimper in protest. But then he's kissing his way back up my body, and the feel of his bare skin against mine sends a new wave of desire coursing through me.

He's lifting me, fitting my legs around his waist. I wrap my arms around his neck as he thrusts into me again.

The pace is slower now, but no less intense. He kisses me deeply, swallowing my moans. Our bodies move together in a timeless rhythm, and the magic that connects us surges higher.

"Ronan," I murmur.

My lips brush his ear, and he shudders, his grip tightening. Then our mouths fuse in a kiss that's hungry and demanding, tongues dueling as our bodies move in perfect rhythm.

I feel him stretching and filling me, the sensation so intense that my magic responds, sparking and crackling around us.We're connected, our bodies and souls entwined, and the ecstasy is nearly overwhelming.

The Keep reacts. The air shimmers with magic, books fly off shelves, and the chandelier shakes overhead, sending dustmotes dancing. But I barely notice, lost in the sensations flooding my body.

"More," I gasp against his lips. "Don't stop."

He groans, his pace quickening, and I know he's as close as I am. Our eyes lock, the connection between us blazing like an inferno. The table groans beneath us, the wood threatening to splinter, but we don't stop.

Our kisses turn desperate as we move together, our skin slick with sweat, our hearts pounding in unison. I can feel the magic building, coalescing into a force that surrounds us, binds us, until it explodes outward in a wave of power that rocks the castle's foundations.

"You're mine, Briar."

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