The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 211: Predator

Esme wasn’t sure why she had foolishly assumed that when Donovan said he’d clean her up, he meant a bath.

Oh, how wrong she was.

With her gown laying in a forgotten heap on the floor, the cool air ghosted over her skin as she lay sprawled across the bed. But the fire licking through her body had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the man between her thighs. Donovan had her legs draped over his broad shoulders, locking her in place as his mouth worked sinful magic against her slick area.

Every flick of his tongue sent waves of undeniable pleasure coursing through her, her stomach clenching, whilst her back arched helplessly off the bed. But the man down there was relentless. Donovan held her still, his grip firm as he devoured her with slow, deliberate strokes, savoring every whimper that spilled from her lips.

"Don, please–" Esme’s trembling fingers buried into his hair, tugging, needing— something— anything to ground her in the overwhelming storm of sensation.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes locking with her teary ones, and she noticed the way his dark eyes burned with insatiable hunger, a look so primal it sent a shiver down her spine. His lips never left her drenched heat for a second, and instead of relenting, he hummed against her, the vibration jolting through her like lightning. He sucked, teased, tormented, his tongue relentless as he dragged her to the edge once more.

When she finally shattered for the umpteenth time that evening, trembling and breathless, he didn’t move away from her immediately. He took his time, his tongue flicking out to catch the remnants of her pleasure before he lifted himself, his lips glistening with the taste of her.

Esme’s chest heaved, her body trembling, her vision hazy from pleasure– and yet, she knew from the smirk curling his lips that he was far from finished with her.

"You’re trembling," Donovan murmured, his voice a velvet caress against her flushed skin. He prowled over her, the heat of his bare body sinking into hers. Every inch of him pressed her deeper into the mattress, stealing the breath from her lungs as he settled between her thighs.

"Did you level up your stamina as well?" His fingers ghosted over her body, reaching for her hands as he pinned them above her head. He then leaned in to pepper her body with kisses, worshipping every part of her, and Esme felt the heat coil even tighter inside her. "I wonder how long you can keep up with me."

Esme parted her lips as if to say something, but no words came, only a shuddered breath. She was still trembling from his mouth, from the wicked things he’d done to her. But before she could even recover, a gasp tore from her throat as Donovan flipped her onto her stomach in one, swift motion. His hands– large, strong and possessive– pressed down on her hips, pinning her in place before she had the opportunity to turn and question his intent.

"I want to teach you something else." His voice right now reminded Esme of dark silk, laced with command, a promise. He then dragged her onto her knees, forcing her back to arch as he settled behind her, his presence scorching against her bare skin.

Her legs trembled in anticipation, her pulse a frantic drum in her ears, but Donovan held her steady, his hands guiding her exactly where he wanted.

"You’ll enjoy this, little moon," he murmured, his fingers tracing down her spine, slow, deliberate, and that was enough to set her skin aflame all over again. "Trust me."

"Don–wait–"

But then he thrust inside her in one deep, claiming stroke, and whatever words she meant to say melted into a sharp cry of pleasure.

Her fingers clenched the sheet, her body caving beneath the intensity, but Donovan wasn’t having it.

"No, Esme," he murmured, dragging her back up and pressing his chest against her spine as one hand cradled her jaw, the other palming her breast. He swallowed her moans, kissing her deeply as he rocked into her, slow, deep and merciless. "Stay with me."

And there was no escaping him. No escape from the pleasure that shattered through her, the way he owned every breath, every trembling gasp. He was everywhere– inside her, around her, consuming her whole.

And gods help her, she never wanted him to stop.

His grip was unwavering, his pace unrelenting. Each deep thrust sent molten heat curling low in her belly, a wildfire of sensation licking at her skin, stealing her breath, and making her toes curl in the sheets. The way he took her, fierce and claiming, left no room for escape.

Only surrender.

"You take me so well," he rasped, his voice thick with hunger as he pressed his lips to the sensitive curve of her throat. "Just like you always have."

Then, he bit down– sharp enough to send a shudder through her, like pleasure laced with the perfect edge of pain. His hand kneaded her breast, his fingers teasing, coaxing, until she arched further into him, desperate for more. The other hand gripped her hip, holding her steady so he could have her exactly where he wanted her.

"This is driving me insane."

Esme whimpered, her fingers fisting the sheets again as he thrust deeper without control, harder. Her body shook, but he wasn’t satisfied with that. No. Donovan demanded everything from her, hence, a roll of his hips, slow and deliberate, sent a sharp jolt of pleasure tearing through her, and a broken moan fell from her lips.

She tried to lower her head again, to hide the flush staining her cheeks, they way her mouth parted on a gasp. But he caught her chin, tilting her face toward him until their eyes met. His heartbeat was in tune with hers, and Esme could hear it pounding clearly.

"Let me see you," he commanded, his gaze dark and burning. "Let me see what you look like when you fall apart for me."

Her breath hitched as he drove into her again, perfectly, devastatingly, hitting that spot with every thrust. The delicious sound of their skin coming in contact echoed in the chamber, and Esme knew there was nothing to hide. Nowhere to run.

"Donovan..." She barely choked out his name, barely able to hold herself together as the pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo.

"Yes, my love?" His voice was rough now, desperate, his movements turning frantic, erratic, like he needed to push her over the edge— needed to fall with her.

And then, she shattered, utterly, and completely lost in him.

-_-_-♡-_-_-

Esme’s breath came in steady, measured exhales, but her heart pounded as if she had been running for hours. The scent of damp earth and crushed leaves filled her lungs, sharpening her senses, and it made the night feel more alive than ever before.

The forest stretched around her in towering silhouettes, moonlight spilling through the gaps of the canopy, but she didn’t need to see where to go. Instinct guided her every step, and her body moved with an unfamiliar grace that was foreign, with strength humming through her limbs, an exhilarating, untamed power that both thrilled and unsettled her.

She soon realized that she wasn’t just running– she was sprinting. No heavy fabric tangled around her legs, and the careful steps of a trained warrior seemed to be forgotten by her as well. This was something raw, something primal, and she failed to understand it. Not to mention but she felt somewhat taller, her fingers— no, claws— were digging into the earth as she propelled herself forward.

Faster. Faster.

The wind roared in her ears, but she welcomed it, feeling it whip against her skin— or was it fur? Each sound reached her in perfect clarity: the frantic rustle of a rabbit fleeing through the underbrush, the distant snap of a twig under something larger, plus, the relentless hammering of her own heartbeat, wild and unrestrained.

Her movements were smooth, effortless, which was unlike her. Her strides were longer, stronger. And her feet– where they still feet?— struck the ground with a force that sent her surging forward at a speed no human should possess.

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Esme wanted to stop, to look at herself, to understand, but she couldn’t. Something deeper than thought, deeper than fear, drove her forward.

A growl suddenly rumbled in her chest, rolling through her throat before she could swallow it down. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even close.

It was rage. It was hunger.

This was no mere run.

This was a hunt.

And she was the predator.