The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 210: Who Taught You?

Whatever Donovan had seen before no longer mattered. The moment Esme’s lips met his, the dark world around them shifted, and in the blink of an eye, they were back in the study. There was no time for Esme to question it, because Donovan had taken the lead, pressing her body against his and the desk.

His kisses were sweet at first, achingly tender, as if he wanted to savor her, to remind himself that she was truly his. But beneath that softness was a hunger he was fighting to restrain. Esme felt it in the way his fingers tightened around her waist, in the way his lips moved, coaxing hers apart until she melted into him completely.

She could taste it– feel his love, his devotion, his desperation to lose himself in her. And gods, she wanted to be the one he unraveled for.

Her hands tangled in his hair, her nails grazing his scalp, and he groaned against her lips before breaking away. The loss of his mouth on hers sent a shiver of protest through her, but then he was at her throat, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

Esme exhaled a shaky breath, tilting her head back to grant him more, and that was all the invitation he needed. His lips parted even further, and then—

A sharp bite.

The sensation sent a jolt through Esme, with pain and pleasure intertwining as his teeth sank deeper into the mark he had already claimed once. Her breath caught, her fingers clenching in his hair, but the man before her did not relent. He licked over the fresh imprint, soothing the sting with his tongue, and that was when it happened.

A soft glow suddenly flickered at the edges of his vision. Caught off guard, he pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto Esme’s hair as it shimmered, the strands taking on an ethereal blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat.

"So that’s what it looks like," he mused, his voice low and filled with something Esme couldn’t quite name.

Her lashes fluttered, her breath uneven, and for a moment, uncertainty flashed in her eyes, until she saw the way he was looking at her.

Dark. Possessive. In awe.

The glow dimmed slightly as embarrassment crept in, her cheeks heating up as she avoided his gaze, but Donovan wasn’t finished with her yet.

"Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself, before swiping everything off the desk in one, swift motion. Papers scattered, ink splattered, and the sound barely registered over the rush of heat between them. Esme gasped at the sight, a protest already forming on her lips since she knew those papers were important to him, but he didn’t give her a chance.

His hands found her thighs, parting them as he lifted her effortlessly onto the polished wood. His body fit perfectly between them, his warmth searing through the layers of their clothing.

Esme should have cared about the mess, the ruined documents, the sheer recklessness of it all. But as Donovan looked at her, any sense of reason slipped through her fingers. He just had that look that made her go dumb without a trace, and she didn’t mind it at that moment.

The mess could wait.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked, his voice low and rough with restraint, but the way he rolled his hips against her, letting her feel the hard length he was barely holding back, spoke louder than words.

Esme’s breath hitched, a shiver crawling up her spine. The heat between them, their scent mixing as one, was intoxicating, but what truly set her pulse racing was the power she held over him— this fierce, untouchable man who melted at her hands alone. It was not a surprise to her that some Alpha’s can still feel a sense of attraction towards others despite having a mate, which was why she had insecurities at first considering if he were to ever gain his sight back, but at this moment, she knew she had nothing to worry about.

He was hers to command, and he surrendered so beautifully.

"Wait," she said, her palm flattening against his chest to stop him. Her fingers teased his muscles through the layers of his clothing, whilst his eyes darkened as he tracked her movement. He let her push him back, obeying without question, as she stepped off the table and followed him.

With slow, deliberate pressure, she guided him toward the chair, the soft shimmer from her hair casting an otherworldly halo around her. It made her look more enchanting, like a temptress of his own making. The silent hunger in her gaze was a command that left him utterly powerless beneath her touch.

Donovan barely had time to process before the back of his knees met the edge of the chair, and he sat, his breath uneven as she followed. For once, she wasn’t breaking eye contact. The anticipation between them crackled like a wild wire, but it was the way she moved– calm, assured, in complete control, with her hips swaying like a talented seductress– that made his pulse hammer.

His lips parted as if to question her intent, but then she straddled him, sinking onto his lap with a slow, sinful grace and pressing her warmth against the unrelenting hardness he had no hope of concealing. His head fell back for a fleeting second, a raw groan slipping past his lips, and it echoed in the quiet study. His hands moved to grab the armrest of the chair, grounding himself.

"Esme–"

He started, but she silenced him with a slow, searing kiss. Her fingers threaded into his hair as she rocked against him, rolling her hips with sinful precision, all the while teasing and tormenting him in a rhythm that made his breath stutter.

The friction was exquisite agony, a test of his already fraying control, and it wasn’t long before that control snapped completely.

Breaking the kiss, he buried his face against her throat, his hands slipping beneath her dress, his fingers splaying over the curve of her ass before sliding to her hips to control her movement. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, but Esme had no intention of stopping, hence, she teased him right to the edge only to pull back again.

"When did you become such a wicked little thing?" he rasped, his grip tightening as he yanked her closer, guiding her movements, forcing her deeper until the friction became unbearable.

"Who taught you?"

Esme’s nails dug into his shoulders, her lips parting in a silent gasp. "That’s a secret," she whispered teasingly, deliberately grinding slower, savoring the way he tensed beneath her.

A secret?

Her moans sent a raw jolt through his already aching length, a sweet torment that pushed him to the edge of madness. His fingers traced the curve of her spine before gripping the back of her neck, as if he needed something to anchor himself to before he shattered completely. However, when his gaze locked onto hers, he couldn’t resist crashing his lips against hers in a hot, desperate claim.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm that was both frantic and perfectly in sync, the low, breathless gasps that were swallowed between kisses. It was enough to ruin them both. She rode him harder, faster, and the tension in him coiled like a spring that was about to snap. When he lost it, she felt it. The sharp tremor that wracked his body, the choked groan that spilled from his lips as he broke the kiss, surrendering completely to her.

Esme slowed, savoring the way he unraveled beneath her, the raw vulnerability in his face as he collapsed back in his chair. He was undone, utterly ruined, and she had been the one to push him past that breaking point.

Donovan remained still for a moment, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths. Blinking, he tried to process what just happened. Not only was she incredible, but she was dangerously good at it. His release was a mess in his pants, and it was a reminder of how easily she had wrecked him. But something else gnawed at him.

’Where in god’s name did she learn to do that?’

His eyes traveled down to her, the glow of satisfaction still softening her features as she caught her breath. And yet, even in the aftermath, she was undeniably intoxicating. His body stirred again, his need rekindling with nothing more than the sight of her like this. He was going mad at this point, and she was to blame for it.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "You’ve made a mess of me," he murmured, his voice thick with something between amusement and hunger. "Now let’s get you cleaned up."