Chapter 5- Uncontrollable Lust(18+)

1232 Words
(Michael POV) The door creaked, and I stepped inside into the darkened room. The air inside was dead, heavy with an unspoken tension that hit me like a wall. Samara sat on the edge of the bed, her golden hair a tangled halo around her face, her blue eyes dull and distant as they stared at nothing. The tray of food on the side table remained untouched, its contents cold and unappetizing. A sharp pang twisted in my chest but was quickly swallowed by frustration. Why wouldn't she eat? I crossed the room, my jaw clenched, my footsteps deliberate. "Samara," I said, my voice sharp. "Why haven't you eaten?" She didn't respond. No flinch, no glance in my direction; it was like I didn't exist. Her defiance sent something in me snapping, something darker. My voice hardened, "I asked you a question.” Still, nothing. She sat there, her shoulders stiff and her gaze resolute as if determined to ignore me until I disappeared. I could feel my temper flaring, my Lycan stirring restlessly beneath the surface. The growl that escaped my throat was low and guttural. "Do not test my patience, Samara." Her head turned a little then, sufficiently for her piercing blue eyes to fasten on mine. But what I saw in them wasn't fear, it was disdain, a cold, unforgiving disgust that cut deeper than insult. My control snapped. The next thing I knew, I was yelling, my anger bounding off the room. "Answer me!” She flinched at my tone, a flash of vulnerability breaking through her mask. But in the next instant, she steeled herself again, her lips pressing into a thin line. Without a word, she turned her face away, dismissing me in its entirety. I stood speechless. The fire that was burning in my chest raged high volatile mixture of anger, frustration, and something far more hazardous: desire. I strode forward, the space between us gone in an instant. My hand shot out, wrapping around her arm and yanking her to her feet. She gasped, struggling against me, her resistance only feeding the storm inside me. "You will not ignore me," I growled, my voice thick with a hunger I could no longer contain. "Let go of me!" she hissed, her hands pushing against my chest. But I was unyielding. My other hand cupped her face, forcing her to face me. Her eyes blazed with defiance, her lips parted as though the next spate of venom would spew from her. I didn't give her a chance. My lips crashed on hers, silencing her protests in a kiss that was raw and demanding, utterly consuming. She struggled, her hands pounding against my chest, her muffled protests vibrating against my mouth. But I didn't relent. I couldn't. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweeter than any nectar, hotter than any flame. Slowly, her resistance faltered. Her fists softened into trembling hands that clung to my shirt. Her lips, once rigid, melted against mine, opening just enough to let me deepen the kiss. The world outside that room no longer existed. It was just us—two forces colliding, battling, and then surrendering. My hands roamed her body, pulling her close until nothing was left between us. Her curves fit against me perfectly, like she was made to fill the void I didn't know existed. "Michael." she breathed against my lips, her voice mangled by confusion and desire. I had no reply; it sounded senseless at that moment. Actions can speak louder than words. I took her back in, toward the bed. Her body fell onto the bed, and her hair, like a golden halo above the dark sheets. So did I, caging her beneath me, with the weight of my body over her, my mouth again devouring hers. Her body fell onto the bed, and her hair, like a golden halo above the dark sheets. So did I, caging her beneath me, with the weight of my body over her, my mouth again devouring hers. Her hands were on my chest, pushing and pulling all at once, her feelings of resistance echoed in how she was kissing me resistant one moment, ardent the next. "You drive me insane," I growled against her lips, my voice thick with need. She moaned low and desperately as my lips left hers to trail down her neck. I pressed my lips against that sensitive spot just below her ear, smiling against her skin when she shivered. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as my mouth explored the curve of her neck, the hollow of her throat. I wanted to mark her, to claim every inch of her as mine. Now, clothes were an obstacle, some sort of obstruction that shouldn't have been between us. My hands tugged on her shirt, yanking it over her head in one smooth motion. Her hands moved against mine in opposition to do the same, her fingers fumbling in shaking terror to unbutton my shirt before pushing it off my shoulders. The feel of her bare skin beneath my touch was warm, her soft curves begging for further exploration. My mouth followed where my hands had traveled, lips that kissed and tasted every inch as she arched beneath me, breathing shallow and gasping. Heavy breathing, rustling sheets, and the intoxicating symphony of her moans filled the room. “Michael," she whispered, her voice cracking as my lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire in their wake. I couldn't get enough of her. The way she writhed beneath me, the way her nails dug into my shoulders, the way her body responded to mine-it was overwhelming. When we were finally naked, I stilled, taking in her view beneath me. Her chest heaved with every labored breath, her cheeks flushed rosy, her eyes dark with unsaid but palpable desire. "You're mine," I gruffly said. Her response was to pull me closer still, her legs wrapping around my waist, as if in a challenge. And I did. The first thrust was slow and deliberate, wringing a gasp from her that ran down my spine like ice. I wanted to savor it and commit every sensation to memory. But my control was already fraying. Her nails raked down my back as I moved, her moans filling the room and mingling with my growls as I lost myself in her. "Michael." she whimpered, her voice a plea that begged me on. I buried myself deeper inside her, my rhythm growing frantic, driven by a need that was on the verge of desperation. The bed creaked under us, the sound mingling with the slap of skin to skin, the symphony of our union growing to a fever pitch. Her cries grew loud and louder, her body trembling below me as she called my name, her tone thick with pleasure. Lost in her, in us, in the unrelenting passion that consumed both of us. As her body tensed and her head fell back, shattered beneath me, I was dragged under by a tidal wave of release, leaving me breathless. Lying there in a tangled mass as our ragged breathing married down from the high, my brain was fogged; my body tired and wanting. I did not know really what path we traveled to get where we did, but the one unmistakable thing here was this, I took her virginity.
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