Reborn To Defy The Alpha-Chapter 69: Demand & Reclamation (18+)

Seraphine stiffened momentary, her fingers curled into tight little fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. For a single, suspended heartbeat, she considered the door. Then she walked toward him, each step measured, careful, her silence betraying the tension humming through her slender frame.

Eberhard watched her intensely. His eyes were a storm of hunger and possession, tracking her progress across the room with a predator’s focus. Letting her come to him.

Seraphine stopped before him. He pushed himself further back onto the large bed, the motion lazy, absolutely sure of her obedience. He tapped his thighs. Come.

She climbed onto the high bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She settled herself across his lap, the hard muscle of his thighs a firm perch. Her posture was rigid, a carefully constructed facade of calm.

She lifted her hands, steadying her breath before she reached for him. Her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, hesitant at first, a whisper against the crisp linen, then resigned. She began to undo the fastenings slowly, each movement controlled even though her pulse fluttered, at the base of her neck.

He tipped his head slightly, watching her pale fingers work. When her hands slid the fabric off his shoulder, baring his skin, he caught her wrist gently but firmly and pulled her closer. The suddenness of it stole her breath.

Seraphine’s lips parted in a soft gasp of surprise as he leaned forward. His hand curled behind her neck, his fingers tangling in the hairs at her nape as he drew her down and captured her mouth in a hard, claiming kiss.

It wasn’t gentle. It was a demand. A reclamation.

Seraphine inhaled sharply against his lips. Her body tensed, a bowstring pulled taut, then softened by degree, her muscles going pliant one by one. Her hands came up to rest against the solid warmth of his chest as the force of the kiss pulled her under. Her breath mingled with his, unsteady, reluctant, yet yielding. She always yielded when he asked.

The last thing she wanted was to do anything that would upset him.

Eberhard’s hand traced the line of her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek before he pulled her deeper into the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. A small, trembling exhale escaped her, and a low, involuntary moan vibrated in her throat. The tension in her shoulders finally melted, her body going soft and heavy against his as she let herself sink into the moment she had been ordered to give.

His free hand moved from her back, sliding down her side to capture her breast through her shirt. He squeezed, his palm firm and knowing.

She jerked in his lap, a sharp, startled movement, and a louder moan was swallowed by his relentless kiss. He squeezed again, his grip tightening, and she could feel the rough pad of his thumb seeking out her nipple, circling it until it pebbled into a hard, aching point against the fabric.

He broke the kiss with a wet sound, his breathing ragged. "Too many clothes, Sera," he growled, his voice thick with impatience.

His hands fisted in the front of her simple cotton shirt. With a sharp, brutal tear, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room, he ripped it open. Buttons pinged against the wooden floor. He made quick work of her plain bra, snapping the flimsy clasp with a twist of his fingers, freeing her breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

He didn’t pause to look. He groaned, a raw, animal sound, and ducked his head, capturing one peaked nipple in the hot, wet cavern of his mouth.

Seraphine cried out, her back arching off him, her head falling back. The sensation was a lightning strike, hot, sharp, and utterly consuming. His tongue lashed her tight bud, his lips suckled hard, pulling a deep, needy ache from her very core. His other hand groped and squeezed her other breast, his fingers kneading the soft flesh almost roughly.

"Oh, Sera," Eberhard groaned against her skin, his breath hot. He suckled harder, as if he wanted to swallow her whole. "You are so perfect."

She could only hold on, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, her knuckles white. Her world narrowed to the points of contact: his mouth on her breast, his hand on the other, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her thigh. A confusing, swirling storm of shame and raw, undeniable pleasure coiled low in her belly. She hated that he could do this. She hated that her body sang for him anyway.

He moved to her other breast, giving it the same lavish, rough attention, his tongue and teeth wringing another broken cry from her lips.

"Eberhard..." she breathed, the name a plea and a surrender.

With a grunt, he moved, his strength undeniable. He upturned her, laying her flat on her back on the duvet in one fluid motion. She blinked up at him, her vision hazy with desire, watching as he roughly shrugged off his open shirt and tore the rest of his clothes off in a flash of focused, impatient movement. He was magnificently, terrifyingly bare, all corded muscle and intent.

He loomed over her, his eyes dark and fixed on her. His hands went to the waistband of her jeans, yanking them down her legs along with her panties. The delicate lace tore under his rough handling, the sound a final shred of her modesty gone.

He settled between her legs, his gaze dropping to the apex of her thighs. He ran a single, possessive finger through her damp folds, and she shuddered violently, a fresh wave of heat washing over her.

"So wet for me," he murmured, his voice husky with approval. "Already."

He inserted one thick finger inside her. Her inner muscles clenched around the sudden intrusion, and a sharp gasp tore from her throat. Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary buck.

"Ah!"

He added a second finger, stretching her, the sensation a delicious burn that made her toes curl. His thumb found her clit, circling it with a maddening, perfect pressure. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"S...sir E...Eberhard, p...please..." she whimpered, her hands fisting in the sheets.

A third finger joined the others, his penetration deep and relentless. He began to move his hand, a steady, pistoning rhythm that stole the air from her lungs. The slick, intimate sound of his fingers moving inside her filled the room. He watched her face, his eyes drinking in every flinch, every gasp, every helpless tremble that wracked her body.

"You take it so well," he grunted, the pace of his hand increasing, his fingers curling inside her, seeking that spot that made her see stars. "Taking all my fingers. Look at you."

He added a fourth, and her eyes flew wide open. The stretch was immense, overwhelming, a breathtaking fullness that pushed her right to the edge of pleasure and pain. She was panting now, her hips moving in time with his thrusting hand, her entire being focused on the building, coiling tension deep within her.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "You can take more, can’t you? My good girl. My perfect Sera."

And then his pinky finger joined the others, and his hand became a perfect, brutal fist within her, stretching her to her absolute limit. The sensation was terrifying, exquisite, utterly consuming. Her body vibrated with the intensity of it, her cries becoming wordless, desperate sounds.

He increased the speed, his arm working, driving his entire hand into her with a powerful, unrelenting rhythm. "That’s it. Let me hear you. Let me feel you come on my hand."

Her back arched off the bed, a silent scream on her lips as the world dissolved into pure, blinding sensation. A white-hot tide surged through her, crashing over every nerve ending, pulling a raw, ragged scream from her throat that was anything but silent. Her body seized around the incredible fullness of his hand, clenching and fluttering in uncontrollable waves of ecstasy that seemed to go on forever, draining her of all thought, all resistance, leaving only a trembling, boneless wreck in its wake.

Eberhard watched her climax with a dark, triumphant satisfaction, his own breath coming in heavy gusts. He slowly, deliberately, withdrew his hand from her, the movement drawing a last, shuddering gasp from her oversensitive flesh. Seraphine whimpered at the sudden, aching emptiness, her hips giving a feeble, involuntary lift off the mattress as if seeking to follow him.

He didn’t give her a moment to recover. His hands, slick with her release, gripped her knees, pushing her legs wider apart, exposing her completely to his hungry gaze. She was splayed open, utterly vulnerable, the cool air a shocking contrast to the heat radiating from her core.

"Look at you," he breathed, his voice a low rumble of pure possession. "Drenched. All for me."

Before she could even process the words, before her breathing could steady, he was positioning himself at her entrance. There was no gentle guiding, no slow, teasing push. In one powerful, devastating thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her.