I feel the heat rise in my groin as he executed the platter lift, his hands igniting the fire as he firmly grips my hips, holding my tiny body above his head, the spinning rink filling my peripheral vision. I didn’t knew what made me find comfort in his arms, but as soon as our bodies touched, my anger with him melted away, replaced by an aching need. I wanted him–the arrogant, stubborn mate of mine. Even in the midst of a turmoil of emotions, I wanted him. His arrogant way of handling me only fueld my burning determination. With the freshness of his words in my mind, I wanted him more than I feared him. The rage I felt today earlier was gone, the dark memories quiescent as he pinned me down on the mattresses. His hand sliding into my hairs, I arched against him and he deepened the kiss. As he lowered me, feeling the shape of my body perfectly, I slided down the front of him to lay on his protruding leg, one hand on his waist, the other lodged between his thigh and that place I long
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