MILLIE BROWN

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ ⚠️
This chapter contains sexually explicit content intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is advised.

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The steam swirled around Shane's body, but it did little to obscure the view. My eyes betrayed me, tracing the droplets of water as they slid from his damp hair to his broad chest, gliding over the ridges of his abs before disappearing even lower. I knew I shouldn't stare, but it was impossible not to. I was only yanked out of my reverie when he cleared his throat, the sound both amused and smug.

When I glanced up, his lips curved into an irritating grin, the kind that made me want to slap it right off his face.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped, trying to mask my flustered state.

He took his time answering, stepping to the side to grab a robe. "You mean what am I doing in my bathhouse?" His voice was laced with amusement as he shook the excess water from his hair, droplets scattering like crystal shards under the dim light.

I rolled my eyes, unwilling to rise to his bait.
"Fine, I'll leave then," I muttered, turning to escape before my resolve weakened.

But before I could take more than a step, he was there. His hand wrapped around my arm-not harshly, but firm enough to stop me.

"You're not going anywhere," he said softly, his voice low and velvety in the steam-filled room.

"What do you want now, Shane?" My voice was sharp, but my stomach churned with nerves. The way he was looking at me, standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from him, was enough to make my knees wobble.

He didn't answer, not directly. Instead, he gently turned me around so l was facing the door. Before I could protest, his arms snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

"Shane," I started, but the words caught in my throat as he rested his head on my shoulder. His breath was warm against my neck, sending a shiver through me.

"I love you," he whispered, the words settling over me like a warm, suffocating blanket.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the way his confession made my heart lurch. "I've told you-you're confused."

"I love you," he repeated, his voice more insistent this time.

"Shane, stop," I pleaded, trying to push away, but his grip only tightened.

"I might never get the chance to say this again after tonight," he murmured, his tone laced with vulnerability. "So I'm going to say it as much as I can now. I love you, Millie Brown."

"Shut up," I whispered, my voice trembling under the weight of my emotions.

"I love you so much," he said again, and then I felt the press of his lips against my neck. My body betrayed me, a shudder coursing through me at the intimate gesture.

"Shane, please stop," I begged, my voice breaking. I didn't trust myself anymore. I hated how his words made me feel, how they confused me, how they painted vivid, impossible dreams in my mind.

"You should be saying those words to Leah," I forced out, desperate to anchor myself in reality.

His breath hitched, and when he spoke again, his voice was raw. "Don't say her name. Not right now."

His hands slid up to mine, interlocking our fingers. He was still pressed against my back, his breaths brushing my skin like a soft caress. "Would it be too much to ask you to say it back to me?" he asked quietly, his voice a mix of hope and despair.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "But I don't love you, Shane. I never will."

He hummed softly in response, a sound of resignation. Then, without warning, his teeth grazed my neck before sinking in, just enough to make me gasp. A low, involuntary moan escaped my lips, and I hated myself for it.

"Do you remember the first time you noticed me?" he asked, his voice deep and husky as his tongue traced over the sensitive spot he'd just bitten.

"Yes," I whispered, my body trembling.

"My mind goes back to that day all the time," he admitted, his words sending a ripple of emotion through me. "I used the potion, just like every other time. I kept my distance, made sure it was a crowded space. And yet, you still looked directly at me. Every single day after that, it was the same. You looked at me as if I was the only one in the room. As if we were the only ones that mattered."

"Yeah, because you were a depraved psychopath stalking me," I snapped, desperate to regain some control.

He chuckled darkly, his lips moving to my ear. "Was that the only reason?"

"What other reason could there be?"

"Because you felt it too," he said, his voice like a seductive whisper. "The pull between us. The connection."

"That makes no sense," I muttered, though my voice wavered.

"Exactly," he said, turning me around to face him. His hand cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his piercing gaze. "It doesn't make any sense. But that doesn't make it any less real. I've spent months trying to deny it, chalking it up to a spell your mother cast. But deep down, I knew the truth. And I know you do too. You just have to let yourself admit it."

l opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, he closed the distance, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs.

The kiss was everything-desperate and tender, fiery and all-consuming. His hands cradled my face, their roughness a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch. The world blurred and faded, leaving only the two of us and the symphony of emotions swirling between us. My heart raced as his body pressed against mine, and for a moment, I forgot why I had ever wanted to resist him.

The kiss deepened, and our lips moved together in perfect sync, each touch more intoxicating than the last. When his tongue sought entrance, l yielded, letting our tongues intertwine in a dance that left me breathless.

As his hands caressed my face with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the fiery passion of the kiss, I felt my body press closer to his, my heart racing in unison with his steady heartbeat.

When he finally pulled away, I gasped for air, my chest rising and falling as I tried to recover. His forehead rested against mine, and a soft smile played on his lips. "I love you, Millie Brown, even if you won't admit you feel the same way," he murmured.

I stood frozen, unable to respond, my emotions swirling in chaos. My longing for him clawed its way to the surface, demanding attention, yet my mind screamed at me to resist.

"Even if you're right-and I'm not saying you are-you have a mate, my best friend," I managed to say, Leah's heartfelt words from earlier echoing in my mind. "She loves you so much." My voice trembled as guilt and desire warred within me. I should be slapping him for kissing me again without my permission, not standing here, longing for more.

"I know," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "And I wish I could reject it. Trust me, l'd do it in a heartbeat, but my people need me." His forehead remained against mine, his warm breath mingling with my own as he spoke.

"So what the hell do you want from me, Shane?" I asked, though my body betrayed me by leaning closer into his warmth.

"Nothing," he replied, but then sighed deeply. "Actually, I know I'm about to sound like the biggest asshole, but... could we forget the outside world just for a little while? Just for these two hours before I have to face the banquet? Let's forget that I'm Shane and you're Millie. Let's pretend we're just two people with no responsibilities, no history, no rules-just doing what we want."

His words were dangerous, an invitation to abandon reason and embrace temptation. 1 knew it was wrong, but the allure of escaping reality, even for a moment, was irresistible. Slowly, I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation and shame at my own weakness.

Shane's face lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. Without hesitation, he scooped me into his arms, spinning me around as I half-heartedly hit him, laughing despite myself. "Put me down!" I protested, but he nipped at my fingers, eliciting a giggle that I couldn't suppress.

Drunk on the moment, we tiptoed down the dimly lit hall like children sneaking away from prying eyes. He opened a door, and as we stepped inside, l immediately recognized the room-the one with the dresses and the crown. The sight of the empty pedestal where the crimson dress and crown once sat sent a wave of unease through me.

"What's wrong? Having second thoughts?" Shane asked, his eyes narrowing as he noted the shift in my expression.

I shook my head, forcing myself to push aside the doubts. "No," I whispered.

His smile returned, and before I could say more, his lips were on mine again, the kiss fierce and hungry.

This time, it was raw, unrestrained, our hands exploring every inch of each other as if trying to memorize every curve, every contour.

A throbbing ache began to build between my legs, an undeniable need that I could no longer ignore. My breaths came in shallow gasps as his mouth left mine, trailing kisses down my neck. His hands found my breasts, kneading them gently but firmly, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

"Shane," I murmured, dragging his face back to look at me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but my need overshadowed my hesitation.

His brows furrowed. "Did I do something wrong?" Concern laced his voice.

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. His shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Then what is it?" he asked, his fingers gently brushing my cheek.

I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat before I finally managed to whisper,
"Let's go all the way this time."

His eyes widened slightly, searching mine for any sign of doubt. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "I'm not strong enough to hold back if we do this."

"Good," I replied, my voice barely audible, before pulling him into another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if we were savoring the buildup of tension.

His hands moved with purpose, cupping my breasts and massaging them with a sensuality that left me trembling.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word pulled me deeper into him, and I knew there would be no going back.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, his fingers brushing the hem of my shirt, lifting it slightly.

"Yes," I breathed, my voice laced with want.

He slipped the shirt over my head and tossed it aside before claiming my lips in a fiery kiss. His hands cradled my waist as he walked us backward until my back pressed against the cool wall. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and I moaned into his mouth as his body pressed against mine.

Feeling bold, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall away. The hunger in his eyes as he took in my bare form sent shivers through me. There was darkness in his gaze—a primal intensity that made my pulse race.

I loved watching him unravel.

Summoning my courage, I pulled the tie of his robe, pushing it and letting it slide off his shoulders. His body was a masterpiece, all lean muscle and strength, and I couldn't help but stare.

When he set me down, I slowly unbuttoned my jeans, letting them slip off. I maintained eye contact, watching as his eyes never left my body. They were dark and consuming.

The way he watched me made me feel both empowered and vulnerable. Slowly, teasingly, I hooked my fingers into my panties, pulling them down inch by inch.

He remained still, his gaze burning into me, and I felt heat pool between my thighs.

When I moved to cover myself, shy under his scrutiny, he caught my hands. His grip was gentle but firm as he joined my wrists and raised them above my head.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and commanding.

Before I could respond, he guided my hand to his hardness, letting me feel how much he wanted me. His soft groan as I touched him sent a thrill through me, and I pulled him into another kiss, my desperation matching his.

He lifted me again, his hands cupping my ass, and carried me to the table in the corner of the room. Setting me down, he stepped back, giving me a moment to take him in.

"Wait," he said, walking away to the closet in the room. He rummaged through some things and returned. He walked back to me, with a tie draped loosely around his neck. The sight was enough to steal my breath.

My thighs instinctively pressed together at the sight, but he smirked knowingly, stepping closer. His hand tilted my chin upward, and he kissed me-a soft, lingering kiss that left me yearning for more.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I think so," I replied hesitantly.

"Not good enough. I need to know you trust me."

His lips found my ear, then my neck, trailing kisses down to my chest. When his mouth closed around my nipple, grazing it with his teeth, I cried out in pleasure.

"Say it,' he urged, his voice dark with desire. "Say you trust me."

"I trust you," I whispered, unsure if it was the truth or if I just wanted him to stop teasing me.

Satisfied, he tied my wrists together with the tie, securing them firmly but not painfully. His smile sent a shiver down my spine.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, testing the knot.

"No," I managed to say, my voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

"If at any point you feel uncomfortable, tell me, and I'll stop," he promised, his voice soft but commanding.

He lifted me off the table and bent me over it, my breasts pressing against the cool surface. My arms were stretched behind me, tied, leaving me completely at his mercy.

The vulnerability of the position was both thrilling and terrifying. I couldn't see him, couldn't predict his next move, and the anticipation made my body hum with excitement.

I felt his hands spread me apart, his warm breath brushing against my most sensitive areas.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. "And you smell so good."

His tongue found my clit, and I moaned, unable to hold back. The pleasure was overwhelming as he licked and teased me, his mouth driving me to the edge.

"Please," I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for.

He spanked me lightly, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through me, before his tongue delved deeper. He sucked and nipped at my clit, his teeth adding a sharp edge to the sensation, and I lost myself in the pleasure. Moaning his name shamelessly.

When his fingers replaced his tongue, stroking me in slow, deliberate circles, I ground back against him shamelessly. He spanked me again and his pace quickened, I allowed myself to get lost in the pleasure.

I rolled my hips and ground myself to his rhythm, and after a few minutes, I shattered, crying out as waves of ecstasy washed over me.

But he didn't stop. His relentless attention to my clit had me teetering on the edge of another climax before I could even recover from the first.

"Shane," I moaned, my legs shaking.

He groaned in response, his mouth returning to my sensitive flesh. He used both his fingers and his tongue and before I knew it, my second release hit me even harder, leaving me breathless and trembling.

Gently, he untied my wrists and turned me over, laying me on my back on the table. His hands guided mine above my head as his cock teased my entrance, the sensation driving me wild.

"Shane, please," I begged, desperate for him.

"Magic word," he teased, grinding against me.

"Shane!" I gasped, unwilling to play along.

He chuckled darkly. "Your wish is my command."

With that, he pushed into me, slowly, filling me completely. The stretch was exquisite, and I moaned as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate.

He kissed me deeply, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. His pace quickened, and I lost all sense of control, my legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer.

"I love you," he murmured against my lips, his voice raw with emotion.

Then, without warning, his fangs sank into my neck, and the sharp pain was quickly replaced by an overwhelming, euphoric release. His final thrust sent us both over the edge, our climaxes crashing into us simultaneously.

When it was over, we were a breathless, tangled mess. As I looked into his eyes, I realized the truth I had been denying for so long: I wanted to say it back.

The words I love you, I wanted to say them back to him.

Was Shane right? Was I in love with him?

He collapses on top of me, his chest rising and falling in sync with mine, and murmurs, "That was the best sex of my life."

It was mine too, but I don't dare say it back.

He pulls away, sliding off me to lie next to me on the table. His arm becomes my pillow, and he holds me close, occasionally pressing soft kisses to my temple, my shoulder, my hand. It feels wholesome, peaceful.

This warmth, this serenity, overwhelms me
—the way his arms wrap around me like a shield, the way his lips find mine so effortlessly, as if they're meant to. It feels like the universe has pulled us into alignment, and I don't want to break this spell.

We lie there in silence, my heart beating an unrelenting rhythm against my ribs. My gaze catches the gown in the corner of the room, a stark reminder that this moment is fleeting.

"Is that what Leah's wearing tonight?" I ask, breaking the quiet.

He follows my gaze and smirks. "Jealous?" he teases, his tone light and smug.

I roll my eyes. "Hardly."

"She actually prefers the red one," he says, his smirk softening. "But I picked this one with you in mind. She just...misunderstood."

The way his words sink in, the way they hit their mark—it's almost too much. I turn away, trying to hide how deeply they affect me. Leah, I remind myself. Your best friend since forever.

"It's beautiful," I manage to say, my voice barely audible, before settling back into his arms. I know this moment will end soon, and I want to savor every second of it.

"You know," he begins, brushing a strand of hair from my face, "at one point, I thought you were going to be my mate."

I blink up at him, startled. "Shane, I'm not even a wolf."

"I know," he says with a small smile. "But when  Krystal claimed she found her mate—a human, of all things- I thought maybe I was just like her. It was the only way I could make sense of how I felt about you."

My heart races again, and I know he can hear it.

He chuckles softly. "There it is. Your heart does that every time I tell you how I feel."

"Wolf hearing," he explains when I widen my eyes in disbelief.

Before I can respond, he props himself up on one arm, looming over me. His fingers brush my hair behind my ears, and his gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that sets my skin ablaze.

Then he dips down and kisses me. It's chaste, but it's filled with something deeper-something raw and honest. I feel it in every fiber of my being. He loves me.

Classical music suddenly blares through the room, jolting us both back to reality.

"That's my cue," he says, straightening up.

"What?"

"The banquet's starting," he explains, standing and pulling his robe back on. His warmth leaves me, and I already miss it.

"Are you coming?" he asks, adjusting the fabric around his shoulders.

"Leah invited me. She says she wants me to be her beta," I say, hesitating. "And I think... I need to go, for Clara and Reed."

He nods thoughtfully. "I'd help if I could, but I'll be busy with the ceremony. Ask Caelum to come with you. I know you're mad at him, but he wouldn't hurt you-not intentionally."

"Right," I reply, unsure of my own feelings.

He lingers, watching me. "You should wear that dress to the banquet," he says, nodding toward the gown.

"Hm." It's all I can muster.

"Hold on," he says, disappearing in a flash.
Before I can blink, he's back with another robe in hand. He drapes it over me, guiding my arms through the sleeves.

He leads me to the mirror, his fingers combing through my hair with surprising care. Then he holds up a familiar scrunchie.

"I thought you might be missing this," he says, gathering my hair into a neat bun.

I glance at the scrunchie-Caelum's scrunchie. The gesture warms and confuses me all at once.

He steps back once he's done and admires his handiwork. "I still prefer it down," Shane teases, and despite myself, I smile.

"I really should go now," he says, though he makes no move to leave.

"Shane," I call out as his hand reaches the doorknob.

He turns back to face me. "Yes?"

What was I going to say? Something was clawing its way up my throat, desperate to be said, but I couldn't find the words. Instead, I settle on, "Good luck."

"Yeah," he says softly.

But instead of leaving, he strides back toward me, his movements deliberate. His hands find my waist, pulling me into him. His lips capture mine in one last, searing kiss that steals my breath.

"I just wanted to do that one more time," he says, smiling against my lips. "You really should wear the dress."

And then he's gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Was I sad? Disappointed?

I must seriously be losing it.

Authors note:
Thank you for reading this far. I love you all. Please don't forget to vote and comment