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102: Warmth

Alora’s POV

Rune's eyes never leave mine as he gives his cock a slow, deliberate stroke, the slick glide of his hand making my breath hitch. I watch, mesmerized, as a bead of precum gathers at the tip, sliding down his length in a way that makes my mouth water.

The sheer confidence, the unapologetic masculinity of his movements, has my pulse racing. I want to taste him, to feel that raw power on my tongue.

Still gripping his cock, Rune reaches out and cups my jaw, his thumb brushing over the tears still wet on my cheeks.

“I love it when you cry because your tiny body can’t handle the pleasure I give you,” he murmurs, voice thick with possession. “It makes me rock fucking hard to see those tears of yours. Tell me, did you cry during sex for other bastards?”

I swallow, my throat dry as I manage to whisper, “No.” Somehow, the darkness of his words only heightens my arousal. I shouldn’t be turned on by this, but I am, so much it scares me.

His gaze darkens, filled with a possessive hung
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