CHAPTER 264: A PASSION TEMPERED BY LOVE

Meredith.

I swallowed, my hands roaming across the solid planes of his shoulders and chest, feeling the strength coiled right there.

"I thought about you, too," I whispered. "Every night, I craved this."

His lips curved against my skin, the faintest smile before he claimed my mouth again, hungrier now.

Then he slid his hands along my waist, caressing, grounding, sending warmth racing through me.

He touched me as if memorizing every line, every curve—as if I were both his anchor and his most sacred treasure.

Despite the intensity, there was gentleness woven through his movements.

His fingertips lingered, his kisses slowed at times, making me feel cherished, not just desired.

But just when I thought he was finally going to break the kiss, he deepened it until I could hardly breathe, and I didn’t want him to stop either.

Draven’s lips moved against mine with a hunger that left me dizzy, his hand sliding up my thigh, his palm warm through the fabric of my dress.

Every touch made sparks bloom under my skin, every caress a reminder of just how much he had missed me.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my heart stumble.

Then he traced my lower lip, now swollen from his kisses with his thumb.

"You don’t know what you do to me, Meredith," he murmured. His voice was husky, frayed at the edges, filled with need. "Thoughts of you haunted me when I was away. And now..." His gaze roamed over me possessively. "...now you’re right here, and I can’t hold back."

Before I could respond, he leaned in again, his mouth trailing down my jaw, my throat, my collarbone.

Each kiss seared me, leaving me gasping softly, clutching at his shoulders. I arched beneath him, overwhelmed by the contrast of his strength and his careful restraint.

My hands roamed over his back, feeling the hard muscle tense under my touch. I wanted him closer, needed him closer.

"Draven..." I breathed, my voice breaking on his name.

He groaned in response, lifting me slightly so I was pressed firmly against his chest, his hand curving over my hip, urging me into him.

His body trembled with control, but his kisses betrayed the storm he was holding back.

"Say it," he whispered against my ear, his breath hot, sending shivers down my spine. "Say you’re mine."

"I’m yours," I gasped, without hesitation. The words came naturally, like a truth my soul had always known.

His answering growl vibrated against my skin, primal and raw, yet the way his lips softened over mine right after made me melt. It was passion tempered by love, and desire anchored by devotion.

The room faded away—the soft rustle of fabric, the faint scent of sandalwood from his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against me—these became my world.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and his hands explored me through my dress with reverence, memorizing me all over again.

Then he shifted us until I was beneath him fully, his body braced over mine, but the heat radiating between us made it impossible to think of anything else.

Every brush of his lips, every slide of his hand left me trembling with anticipation.

"I don’t even think for a second that I’m letting you off tonight. I won’t do that," he promised into my mouth, his words almost desperate. "Not tonight. Not ever."

’Oh Moon Goddess! And here I was, thinking that this man would be so exhausted tonight, but here he was, doing a lot more than embracing my softness.’

Draven’s lips claimed mine again, deeper, hungrier this time, stealing my breath until I was gasping against him.

His hand slid over the curve of my waist, fingers splaying against my skin as if he wanted to mold me closer, erase the distance between us.

I clutched at his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle tense beneath my palms. Every time he kissed me, every time his mouth moved over mine, it felt like falling all over again.

I tilted my head back when his lips trailed down my neck, my pulse racing under his mouth.

"Draven..." My voice was breathless, almost pleading, though I couldn’t decide what I was pleading for.

His answering groan vibrated against my throat, his hand sliding higher, teasing the edge of my ribcage, his thumb brushing the sensitive underside of my breast.

My body jolted, heat rushing through me, and I arched instinctively into his touch.

"Mine," he whispered hoarsely, the word a vow and a command all at once. His lips found mine again, devouring, desperate, but still unbearably tender.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, gasping when his other hand cupped the back of my thigh and drew my leg over his hip. The friction between us made my head spin.

He broke the kiss only long enough to look at me, his eyes blazing with that fierce intensity that always unraveled me.

"You drive me insane," he murmured, his thumb stroking the corner of my mouth, swollen and damp from his kisses. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

I could barely speak, my breath trembling, but I managed to whisper, "Maybe... but I like it."

That made him smile—dark, wicked, even breathtaking. He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring me, as if he wanted to burn the memory of this moment into both our souls.

His hand roamed my back, sliding under the thin fabric, and the heat of his touch seared my skin.

Everywhere he touched, fire bloomed. Every brush of his lips left me trembling. And when his kisses deepened once more, I melted completely, my body yielding to him as his passion wrapped around me like a storm I didn’t want to escape.

The world outside our bed ceased to exist. There was only his scent, his touch, his voice murmuring my name between ragged kisses. I felt cherished, claimed, desired—all at once.

And as his hands grew bolder, and my soft sighs turned to whispers of his name, I knew exactly what this night would become.