Skyr’s POV
I pulled him down beside me, our remaining clothes falling away–his jeans, my leggings, discarded in a tangle of limbs.
My hands explored him, tracing his abdomen, the curve of his hip, the warmth of his skin. His body was a map of strength, each scar a story I wanted to
know.
His lips trailed down my throat, lingering at my pulse.
“Skye,” he whispered, my name a prayer. His hand cupped my <b>breast</b>, thumb hbrushing the sensitive prak, drawing a gasp. The sensation was electric, pulling
into the moment, away from guilt,
1 arched into him, nails grating his back<b>, </b>urging him closer a mouth moved lower, kissing across my stomach, stubble grazing my skin, a delicious contrast to his soft lips<b>. </b><b>At </b><b>the </b><b>curve </b>of my hip, he paused, looking up, eyes asking for trust. I nodded, breath shallow, and he continued, lips and tongue exploring with a tenderness that tightened my chest.
Guilt surged, sharp, <b>Nadia </b>loved him. How can I take this? But Adrian’s touch grounded m?,<fn3144> ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? FιndNovel</fn3144>
<b>his </b>hands steady as they parted my thigh..
His breath was warm against my core, and when his mouth found me, the world narrowed to that point. A moan escaped, unbidden<b>, </b><b>as </b>pleasure colled in. belly, drowning doubts
<b>“Adrian</b>,” I gasped<b>, </b>fingers threading through his dark hair, anchoring myself. He growled, the vibration sending sparks through me. His tongue moved deliberately, teasing, tasting, building a rhythm that let me trembling. Each stroke reminded me I was here, alive, feeling with an intensity that bordered on
The contradiction <b>tore </b><b>at </b>me- guilt for betraying Nadia’s memory, need to surrender to Adrian. This act, this connection, was a defiance of death, proof <b>was </b>still breathing. Sex with Adrian was a tether to life, pulling me <b>back </b>from despair.
He sensed my tension, his hand finding mine, fingers intertwining. “Stay with me, <b>Skye</b>,” he murmured, voice muffled. st frel,”
I let go, <b>pleasure </b>washing over me, pushing guilt aside. My hips moved with him, chasing the edge, and when he slipped a finger inside, curling it, I cried out, arching off the bed. The intensity built, pressure threatening to break me, and I weed it, craving release to prove I was alive.
He moved <b>back </b><b>up</b>, lips finding mine, tasting <b>of </b>us. I wrapped my legs around his <b>waist</b>, pulling him closer, needing him fully. His erection pressed against mr, <b>hard</b>, warm, and I reached down, guiding him. Our eyes locked, <b>a </b>silent <b>queation</b>, and I hesitated, heart pounding.
“Adrian,” I whispered, voice trembling, “be gentle. This… this is my first time
His <b>eyes </b>softened, <b>a </b>flicker of <b>understanding</b>. “<b>I </b>know,” be said, voice low, reassuring. He kissed me softly<b>, </b><b>a </b>promise in the gesture, then positioned himself, entering me slowly, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, a mix of slight pain and overwhelming fullness, but his careful pace eased me into it. His <b>gaze </b>never left mine, watching for <b>any </b>sign of difort, his arms trembling with restraint.
<b>I </b>gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, adjusting to the sensation. He paused, letting me breathe, <b>his </b>forehead resting against mine. “You <b>okay</b>?” he whispered.
I <b>nodded</b><b>, </b><b>a </b>small smile <b>breaking </b>through. “Keep going.”
He moved again<b>, </b>slow <b>and </b>deliberate, each thrust measured, letting me feel every detail–the heat of him, the way be filled me, the connection binding us <b>The </b>pain <b>faded</b>, reced by pleasure that built with each movement. My body rxed, molding to his, and I pulled hini closer, needing more.
Guilt l?ngered, a quiet ache, but the intensity of our connection overwhelmed f. With <b>each </b>thrust, I felt alive, present<b>, </b><b>as </b>if this act pulled me back from the void Nadia’s death had left. Adrian’s love was a lifeline, reminding me I could still feel joy, still crave life,
“Faster,” I whispered, voice shaky with need. He obliged, hija driving deeper, friction building heat that consumed me. <b>Our </b>breatha mingled, sharp, uneven.. as ver mured in sync. His lips found my neck, <b>kissing</b><b>, </b>nipping, each touch sending sparks through nie.
Iclung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, anchoring myself as pleasure but to a crescendo, My body tightened, meres <b>alight</b>, the <b>edge </b>approaching. “Adrian,” I gasped, voler braking, “Tm=”
“Let go.” he urged, voice a growl against my ear. His <b>hand </b>slipped between us, fingers circling my clit with perfect pressure. It was too much, and I shattered, my climax crashing over me. My vision blurred, body trembling as I cried out, tears spilling down my cheeks.
The tears weren’t just pleasure–they were grief, guilt, love, relief. Adrian’s name was a sob as I clung to him, shaking. He followed, his release marked by a low groan, body tensing before he copsed, his weight grounding me
Wey tangled, breaths slowing. My tears wet his shoulder, and he pulled back, concern in his eyes. “Skye, you okay?” he asked, thumb brushing a tear away,
I nodded, throat tight. The tears were cathartic, cleansing the guilt. In his arms, I felt alive, truly alive, in a way I hadn’t since Nadia’s death. Sex with Adrian was <b>a </b>reminder I could still feel, still love, still fight..
He kissed my forehead, tender. “Whatever happens at Silvercrest Mountain,” he whispered, “we face it together. As Alpha and Beta<b>, </b>but also <b>as </b>something more. Something ours.”
I curled closer, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Tomorrow brought politics, challenges, the election’s weight.
But tonight, we were <b>Skye </b>and Adrian, Finding sce, cherishing the present before the storm.