Page 120 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

His lips find mine, hungry yet tender, as if he's claiming me all over again. I melt into him, my hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, his tongue tangling with mine, and I taste the faint bitterness of stress mingled with the sweetness of relief. His hands slide down my back, tracing the curve of my waist, and I feel the heat of his desire through the thin fabric of my dress.

"Elara," he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with need. "Gods, I've missed this."

I smile, breathless, as he nips at my jawline, trailing kisses down my neck. His touch is deliberate, worshipful, as if he's rediscovering every inch of me. My head tilts back, exposing more skin for him, and I moan softly as his lips close around the sensitive spot where my pulse thrums wildly.

"Adrian," I whisper, my fingers threading through his hair, holding him close. "Please."

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and intense, filled with a hunger that mirrors my own. "Tell me what you want," he demands, his voice rough.

"You," I reply without hesitation. "All of you."

His hands move to the laces of my dress, tugging them loose with practiced ease. The fabric falls away, pooling at my feet, leaving me bare before him. His gaze rakes over me, slow and thorough, and I feel both vulnerable and powerful under his scrutiny.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his hands skimming over my hips, my stomach, my breasts. I arch into his touch, craving more. He teases me, his fingers brushing lightly, never lingering long enough to satisfy. "Always so beautiful."

I reach for him, impatient now, and he lets me. His shirt comes off in a rush, and I run my hands over the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the scars that tell the story of our battles. He hisses as I trace one particularly jagged line, his head falling back in a silent plea for more.

"Elara," he groans, capturing my wrist and pressing my hand to his chest. "Touch me. Everywhere."

I obey, my fingers exploring every inch of him, relearning the contours of his body as if it's the first time. His breath quickens, his control slipping, and I relish the way he responds to me. His skin is warm under my fingertips, his muscles tense with anticipation. I trace the lines of his shoulders, the dip of his spine, the curve of his hips, and he shudders with each touch.

He steps back just enough to shed the rest of his clothes, and I drink in the sight of him, strong and unashamed. His body is a map of our struggles and triumphs, each scar a testament to his strength and resilience. Then he's back, pressing me against the wall again, his lips devouring mine as his hands roam lower. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my undergarments, sliding them down my legs with deliberate slowness. I kick them aside, my legs trembling with anticipation.

"Adrian," I gasp as his fingers brush between my thighs, finding me already wet and eager. "Please."

He groans, his breath hot against my ear. "Not yet. I want to savor you."

His mouth trails down my neck, over my collarbone, pausing to lavish attention on each breast. His tongue swirls around my nipples, his teeth grazing them gently, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I moan, my hands gripping his hair, urging him closer. He takes his time, his touch both gentle and demanding, as if he's mapping every inch of me with his lips and tongue.

"Adrian," I plead, my body arching into his touch. "I need you."

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates against my skin. "Impatient, aren't we?"

He steps back, his eyes roaming over me with a hunger that makes my knees weak. He kneels before me, his hands gripping my thighs as he spreads them slightly. His breath is warm against my core, and I shiver with anticipation. His tongue dips between my folds, slow and deliberate, tasting me with a thoroughness that makes me cry out. He hums, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me, and I grip his hair tighter, my head falling back against the wall.

"Adrian, please," I beg, my voice hoarse.

He looks up at me, his eyes burning with desire, and I feel him rise to his feet, his hands guiding me toward the bed. He lays me down gently, his weight careful, reverent, as he joins me. His lips find mine again, his hands roaming, mapping my body as if memorizing every curve. I'm drowning in him, in the feel of his skin, the scent of him, the sound of his ragged breaths.

He teases me, his mouth trailing down my body, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in his wake. My body arches instinctively, my fingers tangling in his hair as he moves lower.

"Adrian," I whimper, my thighs trembling as his lips press against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

He growls, a deep, primal sound that sends a shiver through me. "I love hearing you like this," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot, teasing. "Completely undone for me."

I'm already aching, desperate, my need a physical pulse between my legs, but he takes his time. His tongue flicks out, a slow, deliberate stroke that makes me cry out. He holds me down as I try to lift my hips, his strong hands gripping my thighs to keep me in place.

"Let me enjoy you," he says, his voice dark with amusement and hunger.

And then he devours me.

His mouth moves with expert precision, his tongue stroking, teasing, circling until I'm writhing beneath him. My fingers clutch the sheets, my head thrown back as pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside me.

I can't think. I can't breathe. I can only feel.

I come with a sharp cry, my body shaking as the release crashes through me. Adrian doesn't stop—he licks me through it, his tongue working me until I'm gasping, until it's too much and I have to push weakly at his shoulders.

He laughs, pressing a final kiss against my thigh before crawling back up my body, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. I taste myself on him, a reminder of how completely he owns me in this moment.

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