Chapter 4: Bound by His Touch
1058 Words
Amara met his piercing gaze, her bottom lip trembling as she bit down on it.
“I… I thought you wanted to sleep,” she whispered, brows furrowing in confusion. The words felt flimsy, like paper trying to withstand fire. Even to her own ears, they sounded weak—nonsensical.
Ezekiel moved closer with slow, deliberate steps, each one commanding the air around him. The tension thickened, wrapping around her like an invisible chain. His presence was suffocating yet magnetic, a force she couldn’t turn away from.
With a tilt of his hand, his fingers slid beneath her chin, tilting it upward until her wide eyes were locked on his. The molten gold in his gaze burned with an intensity that made her stomach twist. He looked at her like he could see every lie, every secret she fought to bury.
Her hesitation might ruin everything. The longer she stood there, the more she risked exposing what she’d been hiding. So, with shaky resolve, Amara rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his. It was a fleeting brush—too quick, too fragile—like a frightened bird touching ground before flying away again.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she pulled back almost instantly, heat rushing to her cheeks.
A wicked smirk tugged at Ezekiel’s mouth. “That’s what you call a kiss?” His voice carried a teasing edge, low and dangerous, as if mocking her courage while stoking the fire between them. He raked a hand through his dark hair, his eyes glittering with a predator’s amusement.
“I do know how to kiss,” she blurted, flushing deeper. “You’re just… so tall, I can’t reach properly.”
Something primal flickered in his gaze. Amusement gave way to hunger. Without warning, Ezekiel bent down, his face lowering until his lips hovered just inches from hers.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Who were you running from, Amara?” His voice was deceptively soft, yet every syllable curled around her like a snare. His eyes were sharp, piercing, the gaze of a wolf cornering its prey.
“N-no one,” she stammered, forcing steadiness she didn’t feel. If he knew the truth, everything would unravel—her past, her secret, her fragile safety.
Desperate to silence him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder this time. No hesitation, no half-measures. Fire poured into the touch, reckless and wild, as if she could erase his suspicions with the heat of her mouth.
Her inner voice whispered a reminder—she had kissed before, she wasn’t inexperienced. But nothing—no one—compared to him. The rich, intoxicating scent of his cologne wrapped around her, thick and consuming, pulling her deeper into his orbit.
Ezekiel stilled beneath her touch. Then something shifted. His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, scraping claws against the surface, demanding more. His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her flush against his body, erasing every inch of space between them.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her lips. And then he kissed her back—no, he devoured her. His mouth was fire and dominance, his tongue claiming, demanding, unraveling every wall she had built around her heart.
Amara gasped into him, fingers tangling in his silky dark hair as if to anchor herself in the storm he unleashed. He lifted her with effortless strength, her legs instinctively wrapping around his torso, pressing her closer.
Gods… how can he be this good? The thought scattered as quickly as it formed, chased away by the molten heat of his kiss. He didn’t just kiss—he conquered, explored, memorized. She felt undone, her body betraying her with every tremor, every needy sound slipping past her lips.
When his fingers dug into her thighs and drew a startled moan from her, his smirk deepened against her mouth.
Without breaking the kiss, he carried her to the bed. The world tilted before he laid her down, caging her beneath his body. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, but Ezekiel gave her no reprieve. His lips returned to hers, coaxing another desperate, heated kiss, until she thought she might drown in him.
Then his fingers found the knot of her robe. He tugged it loose with deliberate slowness, letting the fabric part against her skin. Her pulse raced, her body trembling with a mix of fear and forbidden desire.
But just as suddenly—he stopped.
Hovering above her, his expression shifted. The smirk was gone. In its place was something darker, sharper. His gaze roamed her body, lingering for a heartbeat before freezing on her neck.
“What’s your name?” His voice had dropped, husky, dangerous. His hand skimmed across her waist, igniting sparks on her bare skin.
“Amara,” she whispered.
“Amara…” He repeated it slowly, as if sealing it into memory, tasting it with a reverence that made her shiver. Yet beneath the softness, there was something else—an edge of danger that made her throat tighten.
His eyes hardened. His fingers brushed her throat, tracing an invisible mark that sent chills down her spine. His nostrils flared, his expression turning lethal.
“I can smell it.” His words were a growl now, vibrating with possession and rage. “Another wolf.”
Her breath hitched.
In one swift motion, he yanked the robe wider, exposing more of her trembling body. His gaze locked onto her neck with unrelenting fury.
“You were marked, weren’t you?” His voice was a razor, sharp and accusing. His golden eyes burned, daring her to deny it.
Amara froze. Panic clawed at her chest. How could he know? Alex had rejected her, and she had accepted it. The bond should have been broken—erased. But Ezekiel, this Alpha, was no ordinary wolf. He could still smell the faint trace of it, the ghost of a bond she thought long gone.
“I am not an ordinary wolf, Amara.” His tone was steel, threaded with something dangerous, something primal. His grip tightened on her wrist, holding her pinned to the bed.
His next words cut through the air like a blade, each syllable laced with fury and desire.
“Who the f**k marked you before me?”
- Writer
