Rejected Luna Queen

Nesta’s POV

It still throbbed with pain, but the wet heat of his mouth was electrifying, igniting every nerve ending and setting my entire body ablaze.

Each stroke of his tongue was a carefully orchestrated symphony of pleasure, building an insatiable pressure that coiled tighter and tighter within me.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as he continued his relentless assault, drawing out my release for as long as he possibly could. My cries filled the room, raw and uninhibited, as I squirmed against his immovable hold.

Desperation clawed at me: I wanted to touch him, to run my hands all over his body, to feel the hard planes of his muscles beneath my fingers. But I knew, deep down, that if I tangled my hands in his precious hair, he’d stop.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

So, instead, I rested one hand over his on my thigh, locking my fingers with his in a silent plea for more, while the other hand tugged at my own hair in pure, mindless lust.

Sparks burned hotter and brighter, and then, suddenly, the pressure exploded. A cataclysmic wave of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me breathless and disoriented.

My ears rang, pulling all other sounds into a muffled blur as the intensity of my orgasm consumed me. My eyes squeezed shut, and I struggled to catch my breath, every muscle in my body slackening in the wake of such overwhelming pleasure.

I’d never felt such profound peace come over me, a deep–seated satisfaction that seemed to settle into my very bones.

He said something, but I couldn’t hear a word of it, still lost in the aftershocks of my release. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze.

His breathing was uneven, his chest heaving with exertion, and there was something in his eyes- something soft and dark–that I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand.

His presence was both terrifying and mesmerising, a man I never would have chosen in a crowd. but that was exactly why I found him so appealing. He terrified me a little bit, and I always did like to live on the edge.

I woke up with a start, my body thrumming with an unfulfilled need. I was wet between my legs, an unmistakable ache pulsing through me.

My hands were on my nipples, tugging hard enough to send sharp jolts of pleasure–pain shooting through my chest. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that I could still feel the phantom touch of his mouth on me, the echo of his relentless desire.

Slowly, I let one hand trail down my body, fingers skimming over the heated skin of my stomach until they reached the slick, aching core of my need

I gasped as I touched myself, the sensation of my fingers against my swollen clit sending a shiver of pleasure through me. I began to circle my clit, gentle at first, then harder as the need grew more urgent, more insistent.

I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my fingers moving faster, slipping inside me and then back out to tease my sensitive clit. The rhythm built quickly, my hips arching off the bed in response.

I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me, the pleasure mounting to an almost unbearable peak. Yes, yes yes. I’m coming. I’m coming. YES.

My breathing grew ragged, my heart pounding in my chest as I chased the release I so desperately craved. My other hand continued to tug at my nipple, the dual sensations driving me closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, with a sharp cry, the tension snapped, and I came hard, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I rode out the orgasm. My legs shook so hard.

I lay there for a moment, panting and trembling, the aftershocks of my release still pulsing through me. The dream had been intense, but the reality of my own touch had brought me the release I needed.

I slowly withdrew my fingers, feeling a sense of satisfaction and a lingering ache that promised more. I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked. It was something Rowan and Nolan made me do those days.

I lay there, still catching my breath, when a prickling sensation ran down my spine. I wasn’t alone. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned my head to the right.

In the dim light of the room, a silhouette emerged from the shadows, leaning against the wall with an air of indifference and menace that was unmistakable. It was Nolan.

My breath caught in my throat, a mix of fear and anger surging through me. His presence was a dark, looming threat, the kind of danger that made my skin crawl.

I couldn’t see his eyes clearly, but I could feel them on me, taking in every vulnerable inch of exposed body. The intimacy of the moment I had just experienced was shattered by the reality of my his intrusion.

“Nolan,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

The room seemed to shrink around us, the weight of his presence pressing down on me. What was he doing here? How long had he been watching? The questions swirled in my mind, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his shadowy form.

He took a step forward, the dim light casting his features into sharp relief. There was something predatory in his stance, something that made my pulse race with a mixture of dread and defiance.

I quickly pulled the sheets around me, shielding myself from his intrusive gaze. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, and I knew that whatever was about to happen, it wouldn’t be good.

As the realisation dawned on me, a cold shiver ran down my spine, sending a wave of panic coursing through my veins. My eyes widened in horror as I registered the truth: I had screamed Luca’s name in the throes of passion, completely unaware of Nolan’s presence in the room.

I could see it in his eyes, the flicker of recognition mingled with something darker, something I couldn’t quite place. It was a mixture of amusement and malice, a silent accusation that cut through me like a knife,

The weight of his gaze bore down on me, suffocating and oppressive, stripping away the last vestiges of my composure. I shouldn’t feel guilty or even care that he is mad but somehow I feel something.

“Nolan, L…” My voice faltered, the words catching in my throat like shards of broken glass.

I didn’t know what to say, how to explain the slip of any tongue, the involuntary betrayal of my desires. But as I searched his face for any sign of mercy, all I found was a cold, calculating stare that sent a chill down my spine.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. The truth hung between us like a heavy fog, suffocating and undeniable. In that moment, I felt exposed, vulnerable in a way I had never experienced before.

And as Nolan’s gaze bore down on me with unwavering intensity, I knew that this was only the beginning of the storm that was about to engulf us both.