His unclaimed mate

Elana’s POV The kiss completely occupied my thoughts, even though I couldn’t remember his name, I kept going anyway. His voice resonated loudly, deep, commanding, filled with authority that made my spine and knees weaken simultaneously. Every word he spoke exerted so much dominance over me, his tone wrapped around me like invisible chains, pulling me closer as my mind kept popping out screaming questions I couldn't process into sentences. Who is he? How did we end up here? None of it mattered. Not when hands kept moving as if they owned my body. Every touch and feel heightened my arousal, leaving me speechless and unable to ask him to stop. He gently pushed me against the wall, not violently but with deliberate intent. Then his hands moved, they didn't ask for permission. They simply slid across my waist, grabbing my hips, pulling me into him with a certainty that left the room with no hesitation. His palms were warm and soft, rough in all the right places. His left hand found my neck, fingers curling around my throat, choking me but in a sexy way. His other hand found my right leg, placing it over his waist while holding my waist steadily. The position left me exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy and I loved every second of it. His soft lips repeatedly kissed my neck down to my br**st, causing me to gasp once, twice, countless times as each kiss kept me going. Then he lifted me effortlessly into his arms, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his shoulders as his hands cupped around my backside. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in something woodsy and clean and entirely intoxicating. He carried me across the room, and I felt every step he took, every shift of muscle beneath his skin. As he carried me to the bed with surprising gentleness, our eyes met, and neither of us spoke. Words felt unnecessary, even intrusive. The silence between us hummed with anticipation, heavy and electric. Until he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, which made my heart beat fast. My heart slammed against my ribs like a caged animal. His tongue swept against mine, and I melted into him completely. He pulled back and slowly started to unbutton his shirt, and I watched him in silence, my heart beating faster. Each button revealed more of him, the defined lines of his chest, the dusting of dark hair, the subtle curve of muscle that spoke of a body well used. He shrugged the fabric off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He helped me out of my dress with careful movements, gentle enough to comfort, deliberate enough to make me tremble. I felt both nervous and comforted by the gentleness in his touch. His belt came next. The metallic clink echoed in the quiet room as he loosened it, then set it aside alongside his jacket and trousers. There was no rush in his actions, only a quiet intimacy that made everything feel achingly real. This wasn't frantic. This wasn't careless. This was chosen. Then he crawled back over me, the body covering, his body covering mine like a warm blanket. He started kissing me this time from my stomach up to my br**st, trailing fire across my skin, his hand slid from my lap to my shoulders as his lips worked their way to my br**st. My moans filled the room, soft at first, then grew louder with every kiss and touch. He leaned up to kiss me again as his hands found my pu**y, stroking with a rhythm that made me gasp into his mouth. As he kept touching me my moarning grew louder and louder and I grew wetter with every passing second. Then he entered me hard, suddenly, with a force that stole every thought. He slid in and out of me pinning me down on the bed with one hand wrapped around my neck, and his other hand slapping my a** as he f*cked me hard. The bed creaked beneath us. My nails dug into his forearm, i clung to the hand around my throat as it was the only thing I could hold on to. Sweat slicked our skin as we moved together, lost in each other, our breath grew more and more uncontrollable until he finally came with a loud, guttural moan. I thought it was over. Then he turned me over. My face pressed into the bed as he pulled my hips up, positioning me perfectly. He slid inside me again, gentler this time, but no less consuming. His hands gripped both of mine behind my back as he f*cked me slow and deep, every thrust hitting a place that made stars burst behind closed eyes. I surrendered completely, body, mind, and soul lost in the feeling of being utterly undone by a man whose name I couldn't remember. And I didn't care. I thought it was all a dream. That's what I told myself as I drifted in and out of consciousness, his hands still phantom-hot against my skin, his voice still echoing in my ears like a command I couldn't disobey. I could still feel the weight of him in between my legs, his tough all over my body and the dizzying pleasure that turned me on and made me want every bit of him over and over again. It had to be a dream. No one made me feel like that and disappeared. No one had that much power over me and left me wanting more. No one kissed me like I were oxygen and then faded into nothing. But when I opened my eyes, I realised it wasn't a dream at all. A hotel room. The same familiar hot room I thought was a dream. Modern. Minimalist. Expensive. My dress was draped over a chair in the corner neatly folded, as if someone had taken care to place it there. My heels sat side by side beneath it. My purse was on the nightstand beside a glass of water and two small pills I didn't recognize. But I was the only one on the bed. The sheets on his side were still slightly rumpled, the indent of his body still visible in the soft fabric. I reached out and touched the space where he had lain, and my fingers brushed against something warm. His scent. That intoxicating scent clung to the pillows, to the sheets, to my own skin. I brought my hand to my nose and inhaled deeply, and my eyes fluttered closed as every memory came flooding back—his hands, his mouth, his voice, the way he'd taken me apart piece by piece and then put me back together again. No clothes. No shoes. No watch. No sign of him anywhere. It was as if he had never been there at all. No letter, no message my clothes and a glass of water, and pills. I slipped into my dress, put on my heels, took the pills, and left the hotel with my purse. I hailed a taxi and went back home. As soon as I got home, I lay down on my bed, breathed a sigh of relief, and kept wondering if I'd ever have another encounter like last night. Or will I?.