To Be Devoured

Chapter Twenty Three

Winter tensed the moment Dimitri's nose brushed against the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder.
His breath was warm, slow, savoring, and when he inhaled deeply, a shiver ran down her spine.
A soft, primal rumble vibrated from his chest, and the sound sent heat curling low in her stomach.

His hands were large, rough, and unrelenting as they ghosted over her full hips, his touch both possessive and exploratory.

A sharp gasp left Winter's lips when his fingers tightened around her flesh, gripping her as if he had every right to.

Winter's pulse hammered against her ribs.
Her hands shot down, fingers grasping at his wrist in an attempt to pry him off.
But Dimitri—or rather, his wolf—didn't even flinch. His grip remained firm, his fingers freely roaming her curves, mapping out every dip, every soft roll, every part of her she had spent years hiding.

Then his hand dipped lower, cupping her ass with a firm, deliberate squeeze.

"Dimitri," Winter gasped, her heart lurching into her throat as she pushed harder against him, trying to create space between them.

His grip only tightened, his body pressing flush against hers, caging her in effortlessly. He wasn't letting go.
"Acheron," he corrected, voice guttural, thick with something dark and unrestrained. 

"Say my name."

Winter sucked in a breath, her mind screaming at her to resist, to pull away. But her body... her body reacted differently. A warmth pooled low in her stomach, a traitorous heat licking at her insides as his scent wrapped around her, intoxicating and overwhelming.

"A-Acheron," Winter's voice trembled as she spoke out his name.

His nose dragged along her neck again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. "That's my girl," he murmured against her skin, voice rough and low. "You smell... sweeter."

Winter shuddered, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Let me go."

Acheron chuckled, the sound rich and deep, vibrating against her. "Never."

"You're aroused," he then purred, his lips brushing against her ear as he breathed in her scent. It seemed like he didn't get enough of it.

Winter gasped, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "No," she whispered, but the denial felt weak, hollow against the reality of the heat pooling low in her belly.
How could he know? How could he see through her so easily? It felt like a betrayal of her own body.

His hands continued their slow exploration, memorizing every curve, every part of her she had tried to shrink away. His grip was unyielding, but not cruel. He was claiming. Worshiping.

And Winter wasn't sure if she wanted to fight him... or melt into him.

Luckily or unluckily, Acheron grunted annoyed before he looked down at Winter.
"The fool wants back control," he muttered disappointed.

Winter frowned. She quite didn't understand how it all worked but she got the hang of it now. "Let Dimitri back," she said. Though something tugged at her. She hadn't known his wolf for a long time, but he approached her better than Dimitri had. That's for sure.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from Acheron's chest, low and rich with amusement. He leaned in closer, his low voice dipping with a seductive edge as he whispered, "What if I keep you all to myself?"

Winter's breath hitched as his hand, warm and surprisingly gentle, cupped her cheek. The contrast between his rough demeanor and the tender touch sent a strange shiver down her spine. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, like he was testing her, measuring her reaction.