His Forbidden Ward

CHAPTER TWO: The Edge of Oblivion

MIA

The heavy oak door of the penthouse suite clicked shut, sealing out the world. In the dim light pouring through the glass, the space felt massive, yet the air between us grew suffocatingly tight.

I didn’t have time to look around. The moment the lock engaged, the stranger turned, pinning my back against the hard wood of the door. His massive frame shadowed mine completely, trapping me in a cage of pure masculine heat.

“Last chance to run, little bird,” he growled against my lips, his breath a dangerous mix of rich whiskey and mint. His long fingers embedded themselves into my hair, tilting my head back. “Tell me to stop now, or I won’t let you go until morning.”

“I don’t want to run,” I begged, my voice breaking. I gripped the lapels of his immaculate suit jacket, burying the sudden panic that I had never done this before—that I was stepping into the unknown with a man who could shatter me. “Please.”

A low, animalistic groan rumbled deep within his chest, and his restraint snapped.

He slammed his mouth down onto mine with a punishing, possessive force. My knees buckled, but his heavy thigh forced its way between mine, propping me up against the door. The kiss wasn’t gentle; it was a fierce, consuming claim, invading my mouth with a dominant rhythm that sent a violent jolt of electricity straight to my core.

His large hands tore at my jacket, discarding it carelessly. Gripping my hips with bruising pressure, he lifted me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, burying my face in his neck as he carried me across the dark suite toward the king-sized bed.

We hit the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Hovering over me, his grey eyes burning like hot ash, he stripped out of his tailored jacket and ripped his tie from his neck. He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the broad, hard expanse of his chest.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice a rough vibration.

He caught the hem of my dress, sliding the fabric up and over my head until I was bare beneath his heavy gaze. The intensity in his eyes made me feel completely exposed, yet entirely worshiped. His calloused palms dragged over my ribcage, tracing down to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

“Sir… please,” I gasped, my fingers digging desperately into his broad shoulders.

His jaw tightened, a muscle leaping violently. “Call me that again,” he ordered.

“Please… sir…”

He shifted, sliding down my body. His fingers found me already slick and completely unraveled for him. A dark, satisfied smirk touched his lips. Settling between my knees, he leaned down, his hot breath brushing against my core a second before his tongue swiped over me, damp and warm.

A sharp, breathless cry tore from my throat. He was ruthless. His tongue found my most sensitive spot, tracing a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm that had me arching my hips off the mattress, sweeping away every ounce of grief.

I could feel the wave crashing over me, the tight coil in my stomach ready to snap. “Sir… please, I’m going to—”

Suddenly, he stopped, pulling away just as I reached the very edge.

He slid back up my body, his grey eyes dark with a terrifying dominance. “I haven't given you permission to c*m yet, little bird,” he growled, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “You don't cross that line until I tell you to.”

The denial made my mind spin. Whimpering, I slid my hands down past his waistband, wrapping my fingers around the thick, rigid length of him.

He choked on a sharp breath, his entire body going rigid. I stroked him once—a slow, tentative squeeze—and a low, gravelly groan tore from deep within his chest. The sound was a total break in his absolute control.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned. He seized my wrists, pinning them effortlessly above my head into the mattress. “Now, you’re going to learn what happens when you push me.”

He knelt between my thighs. He pressed forward, slow and impossibly controlled, but the moment the thick crown of him met my entrance, my entire body went rigid. I gasped, a sudden tremor rippling through me as his size clashed with my innocence.

Aleksander froze instantly.

His eyes locked onto mine, narrowing as he read the tight, untouched barrier of my body. A dark, intense realization flared in his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping into a ragged, guttural rasp. He didn't pull back, but his grip on my wrists softened. "You're a virgin."

I could only nod, my eyes wide, breath coming in shallow puffs.

"Ffuck, little bird," he growled, a low, tortured sound escaping his throat as he fought a brutal war against his own instinct to drive into me. His eyes burned down into mine, fiercely protective. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted... I wanted to forget," I whispered, a tear escaping into my hair. "Please, sir. Don't stop."

His jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth click. The raw, predatory momentum shifted into something deeply possessive, slow, and agonizingly careful.

“Every step,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my wrist. “You tell me if you need me to stop.”

I nodded, my throat too tight for words.

He kissed me again—but differently this time. Slower. Less like a claim and more like a conversation, gentled and deliberate. He learned me, patient in a way I hadn't expected from a man of such absolute authority, and the patience itself was its own particular undoing.

He pressed forward again, a single, heavy, deliberate thrust, stretching me to the absolute limit. A sharp gasp tore from my throat as the thin veil broke and the overwhelming fullness of him took over my consciousness. He paused, holding himself still, absorbing the tight shudder of my body as he buried himself completely inside me.

“Are you alright?” he growled, the concern wrapped in dark command.

“Yes,” I choked out, the sharp sting already melting into a pooling heat. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “More. Please. Don't stop.”

He began to move, establishing a slow, punishingly deep rhythm. Every time he drove forward, the friction sent waves of blinding pleasure rippling through my abdomen, minding the tight path of my first time until the discomfort completely shattered.

The pace quickened, his breath rattling in his chest as his control disintegrated. He grabbed my hips, tilting my pelvis up to meet his heavy, relentless thrusts. The pleasure spiked so violently that I cried out, my nails dragging across his back.

“Sir—I can't—”

“Now,” he growled against my ear, fierce and unyielding. “Let go, little bird. c*m for me.”

With a few more brutal thrusts, I broke. A violent orgasm crashed over me, contracting tightly around him, claiming my first time with an unyielding finality. He let out a harsh, guttural shout, driving into me one last, deepest time as his own release violently shuddered through him, filling me with his warmth.

He collapsed against me, his heavy heartbeat drumming a frantic rhythm against my chest, sealing me in his dark embrace.

Slowly, the world reassembled itself. His arm came around me, drawing me against his side. I turned my face into his chest and closed my eyes, a trace of soreness between my thighs a permanent reminder of the night I had given away everything to a stranger.

I told myself it was only tonight. I told myself I wouldn't let it mean anything.

I was already lying.