Page 100 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

Later that night, I melt into Adrian, my fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair, my nails raking gently against his scalp.

Isla's story has us spooked. It almost seems like we want to share these moments together before the Council does the unthinkable. Isla feels like a shell of herself. If that's in our future, then we deserve to enjoy as much of this period as possible.

He growls softly, the sound reverberating through me, igniting a fire that has been smoldering since the moment we heard Isla's story. The tale of the Council's ruthless severance of bonds like ours left us both shaken, but it also set something fierce and urgent ablaze within me. Every second, every touch matters.

He lifts me effortlessly, his strong arms securing me against him, the heat of his skin searing through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath hitches as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, the solid press of his body making my pulse quicken. My heart pounds in rhythm with the hunger thrumming between us. Adrian moves with purpose, his grip tightening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps that match my own as he carries me toward the bed.

When he lays me down, his body hovers over mine, caging me in, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that steals what little breath I have left. This isn't just need—it's desperation, an all-consuming hunger neither of us can deny. The fear of losing this, of having it ripped away by the Council, only drives me further, harder.

His mouth crashes onto mine in a feverish kiss, our tongues tangling in a battle of want and surrender. A moan escapes me as my hands slide down his broad shoulders, tracing the hard contours of his chest. His lips leave mine, trailing a heated path down my neck, his breath hot, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. Each kiss sends shivers racing down my spine, my skin tingling with raw anticipation.

His cock is hard and throbbing, pressing insistently against my thigh—a firm reminder of the urgency that drives us both. I reach down, my fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, tracing the pulsing veins beneath the smooth skin.

Adrian groans, the sound raw and unfiltered, his hips jerking instinctively into my touch. His breath is ragged, his control fraying. "Elara," he rasps, his voice thick with need. "You have no idea what you do to me."

A slow smile curves my lips as I stroke my thumb over the sensitive tip, feeling the pre-cum as it beads there. "I think I have a pretty good idea," I reply, even as my voice, like my pussy, drips with desire.

But it's not enough—not for either of us. The fear of the Council, the looming threat of losing this, losing us, fuels the fire burning between us. I need him, want him, in a way that words could never capture. This isn't mere passion—it's desperation, a claiming, a promise. And I don't intend to hold back.

My pussy aches with a need so intense it's almost unbearable, a deep, pulsing hunger that only he can satisfy. I slide my hand between my legs, desperate for relief, my fingers brushing against my own slick heat—but before I can go any further, Adrian gently moves my hand away.

"Let me," he murmurs, his voice husky, filled with promise.

His big, calloused fingers replace mine, his touch both tender and possessive. He looks at me, his dark eyes burning with a mixture of tenderness and raw desire, and then he dips his head, capturing my lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth as his fingers begin their magic, teasing, exploring, taking his time.

He starts slow, deliberate, circling my clit with maddening precision. A gasp escapes me, my body arching off the bed as pleasure sparks through every nerve. My hands clutch his shoulders, my nails digging in, silently begging for more.

"Adrian," I whisper, my voice trembling with need. "Please."

A dark, knowing chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Don't be impatient, love," he teases, his breath warm against my lips. "Let's savor this."

Then he presses harder, his fingers moving in a rhythm that has me gasping, writhing beneath him. The sensations coil tighter and tighter, a wildfire spreading through me.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice rough, coaxing. "Let go for me, Elara."

And I do—shattering apart in his hands, his name spilling from my lips as he watches me come undone.

Our bodies move together, a perfect rhythm, a desperate need. Every thrust sends pleasure spiraling through me, tightening the coil deep in my belly. Adrian groans, his lips tracing a scorching path down my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"You were made for me," he murmurs, his voice rough, possessive.

I cling to him, nails raking down his back, relishing the way his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Then take me," I whisper, my voice shaky, breathless. "All of me."

A low curse slips from his lips before he grips my thighs, spreading me wider, angling himself even deeper. The stretch is exquisite, the burn of pleasure just enough to make me dizzy. He drives into me harder, faster, his control slipping, his need matching my own.

"Elara," he groans, burying his face in my neck as his pace becomes punishing, desperate. "I can't?—"

"Don't stop," I gasp, arching beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

The bed rocks beneath us, the sound of skin against skin blending with our ragged moans. The intensity builds, climbing higher, until every nerve in my body feels like it's on fire.

He reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit, circling it with perfect pressure, sending me hurtling toward the edge. I cry out, gripping him tighter as pleasure crashes over me, my entire body trembling in his arms.

Adrian follows, his movements becoming erratic, a deep, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finds his release, his body shuddering against mine.

For a long moment, neither of us moves, tangled together, our chests rising and falling in sync. He presses a tender kiss to my forehead, his fingers brushing lazily over my damp skin.

"You're mine," he whispers, his voice raw, reverent.

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