The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 368

Chapter 368: Completely His
Meredith.

Before I could answer, Draven drew me back into him.

He placed one hand at my waist, the other sliding up my spine, guiding every breath, every heartbeat, every small surrender.

The space between us disappeared completely. His warmth, his scent, the faint trace of duel still clinging to him. It all drowned my senses.

The kiss deepened again, fierce and consuming, the kind that left no room for air or thought, only the rush of wanting.

My hands found his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline. He caught one of my hands, pressed it flat against his chest. His heart was racing just as wildly as mine.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he whispered, voice dark and quiet, “Tell me to stop.”

I didn’t. Why would I do that when I suddenly didn’t want to see any of this end?

Instead, I lifted my chin and met his mouth again, answering him without words.

His laugh was low, barely audible, but I felt it against my lips. Then everything dissolved again—his hands, his warmth, the press of his body against mine, the rhythm between us.

The kiss turned rough, desperate, yet still threaded with care. Every touch was deliberate, every breath shared. I could feel his restraint, but also the danger of it breaking.

And when he finally drew me close again, his voice brushed my mind one last time —

“Now you understand why I said you would beg for more.”

The world blurred, encompassing heat, breath, heartbeat —everything, until there was nothing left but the sound of our breathing and the slow fade of control giving way to desire.

And just like that, Draven’s hands found my waist again, firm and sure, and before I could guess his next move, he lifted me clean off the floor.

A quiet gasp left my lips as instinct took over. My arms looped around his neck, and my legs wrapped around him, drawing him closer to feel the softness of my chest.

His grip tightened at my hips in return, steadying me, holding me like I weighed nothing at all.

The kiss deepened again, urgent and intoxicating as his lips moved against mine with the kind of hunger that left my head spinning.

His breath mingled with mine, warm and uneven, and I felt every beat of his heart through the press of our bodies.

For a moment, it didn’t matter who had won the duel. The only thing that existed was this, the fire between us, raw and unfiltered.

With me clung to his body like a koala, Draven walked forward without breaking the kiss, his steps measured and unhurried, like he was completely in control even while losing himself at the same time.

When the back of my knees brushed the edge of the bed, he paused just long enough to meet my eyes.

There was something dark and soft in his gaze. Hunger, yes, but also reverence.

Then, he laid me down gently, his hand lingering at my cheek, tracing the corner of my mouth with his thumb before leaning in again.

His voice came low, threaded with that same quiet authority that always made my pulse quicken.

“With how hungry I am,” he murmured against my lips, “I don’t think you will have any strength left in your legs to walk to the dining hall after.”

A laugh caught in my throat, breathless and trembling. “Then I will blame you when I can’t stand.”

He smiled—a rare, dangerous smile and lowered his head again, his lips ghosting mine before whispering,

“Good. I will gladly take the blame as long as you let me do what I want.”

Then his hands reached for the waistband of my training pants, tugging at it. Immediately, I lifted my bum off the bed to let him freely tug it downwards.

After he had succeeded, he came back up and kissed me again, much slower this time, savouring, claiming, until the only thing I could hear was the steady drum of his heartbeat and my own ragged breaths answering it.

Draven moved with the same focus he carried into battle: deliberate, controlled, but blazing with restrained power.

His touch grew softer by degrees, his lips leaving trails across my jaw, my neck, until the fire eased into something slower, steadier, more intimate.

The world seemed to be quiet around us. His hand found mine, fingers lacing together, grounding me as my breathing slowed.

When our eyes met, there was no more challenge between us, just understanding. Then, he brushed a kiss to my forehead, whispering something low and wordless against my skin, before he finally drew me into his chest.

For a while, neither of us moved. The adrenaline, the warmth, the quiet aftermath all melted into a calm that felt like a heartbeat suspended in time.

—

By the time I sat at the dining table, I was still trying to compose myself. And the aroma of roasted meat and herbs did little to steady my thoughts.

Draven sat beside me, calm as ever, cutting into his food as though nothing had happened. The nerve of him.

Meanwhile, my legs were trembling beneath the table, still weak from his “no mercy” promise.

And every time my fork clinked against the plate, it reminded me of how hard I was trying not to think about the heat that still pulsed low in my body.

Valmora was blessedly silent, though I could almost feel her smirking somewhere inside my head.

Draven finally turned to me with that faint, knowing smile — the kind that said he knew exactly why I was quiet, why my cheeks burned, and my pulse fluttered whenever his gaze met mine.

Surprisingly, he leaned in slightly with a voice low enough for only me to hear. “I hope you are relishing and enjoying the aftermath of my promise?”

I glared at him over my cup just to stop myself from smiling. “Eat your food, Draven.”

His chuckle rumbled softly beside me.

And though I tried to focus on my meal, my body still hadn’t forgotten the way he had made me feel minutes ago—trembling, undone, and completely his.