Chapter 209

The crisp morning air carried the scent of pine as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s estate. The sun had barely risen, casting a golden hue over the sprawling gardens below. She tightened the silk robe around her, the fabric whispering against her skin.

Last night’s confrontation with Donovan still burned in her mind. His betrayal had been sharp, but the way Sebastian had shielded her—his presence steady and unyielding—had left her pulse racing in an entirely different way.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, turning to see Beatrice pushing open the door, her arms laden with a tray of steaming coffee and pastries.

"Morning, sunshine," Beatrice chirped, setting the tray on the small wrought-iron table. "You look like you didn’t sleep much."

Lillian sighed, sinking into one of the chairs. "Couldn’t. Too much on my mind."

Beatrice poured her a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the space between them. "Donovan?"

"Among other things." Lillian wrapped her hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into her fingers. "Sebastian… he’s different. I don’t know how to explain it."

Beatrice smirked. "Oh, I think you do. You just don’t want to admit it."

Before Lillian could retort, the door swung open again, and Oliver bounded in, his dark curls tousled from sleep. "Lillian! Dad says we’re going riding today. You’re coming, right?"

She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course. Wouldn’t miss it."

Oliver grinned before darting out as quickly as he’d arrived. Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "Looks like someone’s already got the Blackwood seal of approval."

Lillian rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed.

Downstairs, Sebastian waited by the grand staircase, his broad frame clad in a fitted riding jacket. His gaze flicked to her the moment she descended, something unreadable flashing in his dark eyes.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, ignoring the way her heart stuttered.

As they stepped outside, the stables came into view, the horses already saddled. But before they could mount, Marcus Grayson approached, his expression grim.

"Alpha," he said, inclining his head. "We have a problem."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "What is it?"

Marcus hesitated, glancing at Lillian. "It’s about Evelyn. She’s been spotted near the border."

Lillian’s breath caught. Donovan’s new mate—here?

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. "Prepare the guards. We’re not taking any chances."

As Marcus hurried off, Sebastian turned to Lillian, his voice firm. "Stay close to me."

The command sent a shiver down her spine.

Because for the first time, she realized—she wanted to.

I drew Lillian's nipple into my mouth, rolling it between my teeth until it peaked even harder. A breathy moan escaped her lips as I lavished attention on her breasts, her scent growing headier with every passing second—thick with desire, intoxicating. My body pressed against hers, the friction of our clothed forms only heightening the tension. I hadn't bothered undressing; this wasn’t about me.

This was about her.

Whatever poison they’d slipped into her drink was potent, her heat spiraling out of control. If I hadn’t arrived when I did—if some other man had taken advantage—

A snarl rumbled in my chest at the thought. The image of Lillian writhing beneath someone else, begging for relief the way she was now, sent my wolf surging forward. I clenched my fists, forcing the beast back under control.

Her needy whimper snapped me back to the present.

Beneath me, Lillian arched, her body slick with sweat, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. I traced my fingers down her torso, claiming her lips in a searing kiss, sucking and biting until they were swollen. When she tried to deepen it, I pulled back just enough to tease, smirking at her frustrated whine.

I wouldn’t make her wait long.

My mouth trailed down her throat, lingering over her pulse before I sucked hard at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. She shuddered, fingers tangling in my hair, tugging as I licked a path down her collarbone, back to her breasts. I took my time there, savoring the way she arched into my touch, her breath hitching with every flick of my tongue.

Then lower.

Her panties were soaked through, clinging to her skin. The sight alone had my cock straining against my slacks, desperate to be buried inside her. But I forced myself to focus—she came first.

I kissed the inside of her thighs, inhaling her scent, before hooking my fingers into the lace and dragging them down her legs. The moment they were gone, I spread her wide, drinking in the sight of her—pink, glistening, perfect.

A low growl escaped me as I pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, lapping up the evidence of her need before finally—finally—brushing my lips over her clit.

She jerked, a broken moan spilling from her lips.

I smirked.

When I pulled back slightly, she rocked her hips, wordlessly begging for more. I didn’t need to be told twice.

I sealed my mouth over her, sucking her clit between my lips, teasing it with my teeth until she gasped, her thighs trembling. My tongue flattened against her, tasting every inch, alternating between slow, deliberate licks and sharp nips that had her writhing.

Her pleasure was a symphony—every whimper, every shudder, every desperate roll of her hips music to my ears.

And I wasn’t done yet.

My fingers delved deeper, exploring her with practiced precision as she writhed beneath me. The slick heat of her arousal coated my skin, her breathy moans filling the air between us.

"More... please," she gasped, her hips rolling desperately against my mouth. I smirked against her, savoring the way her body trembled under my touch. Withdrawing slightly, I added another finger, stretching her further, working her with slow, deliberate strokes before quickening my pace.

Her back arched off the bed as I curled my fingers just right, hitting that sweet spot that made her cry out. "Sebastian—!" Her voice broke on my name, nails clawing at the sheets.

I could feel her tightening around me, her thighs shaking as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, sweet and heady, driving me wild. My own need throbbed painfully, but I refused to rush this.

Instead, I pressed deeper, my tongue swirling around her clit as my fingers worked her mercilessly. She was so close—her breath hitched, her body tensed—and then she shattered with a sharp cry, her release flooding over my fingers.

I didn’t let up, drawing out every last wave of her pleasure until she was limp and gasping beneath me. Only then did I pull back, licking my lips as I admired the wrecked, beautiful sight of her.

But this was far from over.

I wanted her again. And this time, I wouldn’t stop until she was screaming my name in ways she never thought possible.