The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 165: She Was His

When their guest retired to her chamber for the night, Esme retreated to her own room, her head pounding with an ache that pulsed at her temple. She sank onto the edge of her bed, and her thoughts swirled with a storm of disbelief and frustration.

Could it truly be possible that Donovan—her Donovan— was the reason she lacked a wolf? The very notion felt so absurd. Surely, her Aunt had misunderstood something, or worse, been manipulated by her relatives to intervene in her life. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d concocted some scheme to upend her life just as it began to settle.

Since her Aunt’s home was untouched and secure, perhaps it would be best to suggest she returns there. Right now, the last thing she wants is to be dragged into yet another mess, especially when her relationship with Donovan seems to be improving with each passing day.

For once, she felt something fragile but precious taking root between them, and it was something she refused to let anyone destroy.

A sudden knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. Rising from the bed, she hesitated briefly before crossing the room to answer.

When she opened the door, she barely had time to register Donovan’s imposing presence before he seized her wrist in a firm, almost urgent grip. Without a word, he led her back into the room, steering her toward the bed with a determination that left her stunned and breathless.

"Donovan?" freeweɓnøvel.com

Esme’s breath hitched as a startled gasp escaped her lips, the world tilting as her body met the soft surface of her bed. Her wide eyes mirrored the racing of her heart as Donovan climbed onto the mattress as well, his deliberate movement making her pulse pound.

Her legs trembled as he parted them with a commanding touch, settling himself between her thighs. The intimate closeness sent a rush of heat through her, and her face burned with a mix of surprise and desire. She instinctively tried to pull away, her nerves sparking with uncertainty, but his strong hands gripped her thigh, anchoring her firmly in place.

"Donovan, what are you doing?" She stammered, her voice quivering as she tried to keep up with her spiraling thoughts.

His lips curled, "what do you think I’m doing?"

Before she could form another protest, he leaned down, his breath warm against hers as he claimed her lips with a hunger that stole the air from her lungs. The kiss was fierce, almost punishing, and it left no room for resistance. Her body stiffened, and Esme felt caught in the storm of his sudden passion, her mind reeling to process his boldness.

Except... he’s always been this bold.

Her gasp of surprise gave him the opportunity he sought, and a sharp nip on her lower lip drew a startled yelp from her, her lips parting instinctively at the slight sting. It was all the invitation he needed before his tongue slid in, exploring without restraint, his dominance clear in every movement.

Esme’s world simply dissolved into the sensation of him—his taste, his heat, and the sheer intensity of his presence overwhelming her defenses.

The intoxicating allure of his scent, like a potent aphrodisiac coursed through her veins. She kissed him back, her body melting into his as his hands claimed her, one tangling in her hair, the other holding her firm against the lean, hard lines of his body.

Her eyes flew open when she felt the unexpected pressure of his fangs, and when he pulled back, his lips parted just enough to reveal the sharp, deadly tips. To further confirm her suspicion, she ripped off his blindfold, her heart racing, and her gaze met his. It had darkened and looked aglow with an otherworldly intensity. Her face flamed with a mix of fascination and trepidation.

"What’s gotten into you?" she breathed, though her body seemed to be operating on its own accord, responding to his with a wanton abandon that left her hazy.

Donovan’s mouth traced a scorching path along her neck, collarbone, and the curves of her breast. Esme’s body arched into his, and her skin tingled with pleasure as he whispered huskily in her ear.

"I need to mark you, Esme. I can’t resist the urge any longer. Being separated from you would be a living hell for me. I won’t risk it." His voice was low and menacing, yet seductive, drawing her in with a promise of forbidden pleasure.

"But no one’s going to separate me from—"

Esme’s breath caught in her throat as she felt Donovan’s fingers ghost against the fabric of her underwear, the touch sending an electric jolt through her body. She instinctively tried to close her legs, a surge of warmth rushing to her core, but it was futile. He was already positioned between her thighs, his body a solid, irresistible weight pinning her in place.

His thumb pressed against her, finding the pulsing area with expert precision, and a shiver ran up her spine. She arched involuntarily, and her body surrendered to the sweet torment he expertly inflicted.

"Then let me mark you," he growled, his voice deep and commanding, and it carried an unmistakable Alpha edge that was impossible to ignore. His wolf was there too—primal, assertive and unyielding. He had made it clear before, how his wolf was a creature of wild power, and far from the gentler nature Donovan often showed her.

But, as his touch deepened, Esme soon realized that she was craving this side of him.

A soft, desperate moan rose in her throat, and she quickly pressed her hand over her mouth, desperate to keep her composure as his fingers teased the edges of her underwear. As if sensing her defiance, his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, shifting it aside, while his fingers inched their way inside her, whilst her body trembled as his touch sank deeper, filling her with a sensation that was too much to bear.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the overwhelming mix of heat and pleasure making everything else fade away. She could feel the pressure building, but it wasn’t pain— it was something raw, something completely consuming, and it had her wanting more.

"Donovan...wait!" Esme gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to catch her breath, while her body desperately seeked control over the chaos he was creating. She attempted to push him away, to buy herself some time, but before she could, his free hand shot out, capturing her wrist and pinning them firmly above her head against the bed.

"I’ve waited long enough," he said, his voice low and rough, and it dripped with unrestrained need.

Before she could protest again, his lips were on hers, stealing away any words she might have said. At the same time, his able fingers plunged into her, moving with relentless purpose. Each thrust coaxed her deeper into the haze of pleasure, and her body responded instinctively as he stretched and prepared her for more.

A sharp cry escaped her when his fingers hit that perfect spot, sending a ripple of electricity through her. His smile darkened as he felt the way her body melted into his touch, her growing wetness betraying her resistance.

Esme’s vision blurred, and her breath hitched with every movement, every sinful, deliberate stroke of his fingers. The heat between them was unbearable, like a firestorm consuming her from the inside out.

When he finally released her wrist, his hand slid over her trembling body, caressing the soft curve of her breast. His palm molded to her perfectly, squeezing with just enough pressure to make her back arch.

She was his, every damn inch of her.

"You can punish me later," he murmured, his voice dark with mischief as his lips trailed down to claim her nipples through the fabric of her clothes. His teeth grazed her lightly, mindful of his fangs, and it sent a jolt through her that made her squirm, her gasp and moan filling the room like a melody only he could play.

All the while, his fingers kept their rhythm inside her, driving her closer to the edge. Her breaths became frantic, her body trembling as she teetered on the brink of ecstacy. But just when she was about to fall completely, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her gasping in desperate frustration, her body aching for more.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pulled back, his heated gaze never leaving her. Donovan’s hands moved to completely strip her, before stripping himself.

Each piece falling away revealed the powerful lines of his body. The daylight illuminated every inch of him, leaving no part of his perfection hidden.

Esme’s blurry vision sharpened as her gaze dropped lower, settling on him. Her breath hitched at the sight of his hardened length, thick and pulsing, the veins running along its shaft, accentuated by the precum glistening at the tip.

Donovan’s hand moved shamelessly, gripping himself with a firm stroke, his fist sliding up and down with an unhurried rhythm.

"Keep staring at it, and it’ll end up somewhere else," he teased, his voice laced with a dark promise.

Esme’s heart skipped a beat, and her mind immediately raced to interpret his words. But the implications alone sent a rush of heat straight to her core, the throbbing ache between her thighs intensifying with anticipation.

It had been so long since she’d had him like this, and now, with the sight of him— thick, proud and impossibly arousing— she swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ear.

Donovan didn’t rush. Instead, he leaned down, his lips trailing a scorching path along the curve of her neck and shoulder, each kiss deliberate and reverent. She shivered beneath his touch, her body melting under the tender assault. When his mouth finally claimed hers, his tongue delved deep, tangling with hers in a kiss so consuming that her thoughts dissolved into pure sensation.

His glowing eyes, feral and unrelenting, never faded as he shifted. She felt the searing heat of him against her, the swollen tip of his cock teasing her slick, needy entrance. He rubbed against her slowly, deliberately, the friction almost unbearable, until finally—mercifully—he plunged inside her.

Esme’s breath left her in a sharp cry, her fingers digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation was overwhelming to the point it brought tears to her eyes, his size stretching and filling her so completely that it bordered on too much, yet she craved every inch of him.

Her walls clenched around him reflexively, and his groan was guttural, vibrating against her skin. "You feel incredible," he rasped, his voice strained as he fought to maintain control.

Esme’s body arched beneath him, pleasure pooling deep in her belly as she adjusted to the exquisite fullness. It was as though her entire being was attuned to him, and the connection between them burned hotter with each breath.

His hand gripped her hips firmly, pulling her flush against him as he began to move, each thrust deep and deliberate, and it ignited a fire that consumed them both

Esme’s moans filled the air, mingling with his raw, guttural groan that resonated like a primal song of possession and desire.

The rhythm was relentless, his pace building with a feral intensity that left her utterly undone. Lost in the sensations coursing through her, she barely noticed when he leaned in, his lips hovering near her neck.

"Try to take it, okay?" He whispered, then, in an instant, a sharp pain lanced through Esme as he sank his teeth into the delicate curve of her neck. A scream tore from her lips as he marked her, a mix of surprise and something deeper— an aching, almost unbearable pleasure entwined with the sting.