Broken Bond: Claimed by My Ex-Husband's Alpha Billionaire Uncle-Chapter 45: No Holding Back [M]

If that was the truth, didn’t that mean Damon was also going crazy because of their bond?

"Damon, actually... I have these weird feelings about our relationship," Charlotte admitted, deciding to be honest. "The more you avoid me, the more uncomfortable I feel—even though I don’t understand why."

No matter how much they tried to adapt to the modern world, they couldn’t escape what they were. Werewolves’ relationships weren’t like humans.

Suppressing their instincts—desire, possessiveness, the pull of their bond—was unnatural.

They couldn’t expect to have a real relationship without having sex or intimacy—because, at their core, they were still creatures of instinct.

If they kept acting like business partners instead of true mates, all they would gain was frustration.

Two months might not seem like much now, but what about a year? Two years?

The feelings they kept shoving aside wouldn’t just disappear. They would bottled-up their feelings until eventually, something inside them snapped.

And when an Alpha lost control, the consequences were dangerous. Going feral. Turning rogue. She’d heard the stories, and she didn’t want that for Damon.

She didn’t want to be the reason he suffered.

Charlotte swallowed hard. "I know what happens when an Alpha claims his mate. I know that ignoring it won’t make it go away." She hesitated for a moment before forcing herself to say the words out loud. "I don’t mind if you ... if you want to do it."

Her face burned, but she didn’t take the words back.

"This isn’t about repaying you for everything you’ve done for me," she continued, her voice softer now. "Damon, I’m frustrated too."

And in that moment, she wondered—was she brave for saying this, or was she just as desperate as a bitch in heat?

But the truth was, she wanted to be touched by him.

It was fine if he didn’t want to have sex with her, but just holding hands felt too insignificant for what they were.

Maybe he could kiss her—not something heated, just something. That would be enough.

She just wanted to be close enough to breathe him in, to feel his warmth, to exist in the space where neither of them had to pretend they weren’t aching for more.

Damon was quiet for a long moment, his gray eyes looking hers as if trying to find an answer she hadn’t spoken aloud. His fingers twitched slightly, as though he was restraining himself from reaching out.

"Charlotte ..." His voice was softer now, almost hesitant. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She swallowed, her heart pounding. "I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t."

A muscle in his jaw tensed.

She could see his internal struggle, the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to reach for her. Damon was always in control, always measured. But for the first time, she saw something crack beneath that careful appearance.

He let out a harsh sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You don’t understand what you’re asking."

Charlotte straightened. "Then explain it to me."

His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, after a moment of hesitation, his fingers brushed against her cheek. It was barely a touch, the lightest graze, but it sent a shiver through her.

She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes for a second, feeling his warmth. He always felt warm and safe. But underneath it, she could sense his tension—his hunger that had been restrained for such a long time.

He wanted to devour her, biting her body again and leaving new marks on her neck.

When she opened her eyes, Damon was still watching her. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was burned with desire over her.

Oh, She was still a magnet for him after all.

"I can’t promise to be gentle with you," he murmured, his voice quieter now, rougher. "Not the way I want to. The first time... we did it because we had to. But now, it’s different. This isn’t an obligation."

Charlotte’s lips curled into the warm smile, her gaze steady. "Then don’t be. I can handle it."

She wasn’t fragile, and she knew Damon would never push her past her limits.

And even if he did, what was a little pain to a werewolf?

Their bodies healed fast, their instincts ran deeper than logic.

What kind of werewolf made love without a few bites or a little pain?

Damon’s gaze burned into her, her words sinking deep into his chest. His restraint had always been fragile, held together by sheer self-control—but Charlotte? She was tempting him to break it, chipping away at it with nothing but her words and the way she looked at him.

She was testing his patience.

His fingers traced along her jaw—rough, yet careful—as if memorizing the shape of her. "You say that now," he murmured, his voice low and edged with warning. "But once we start, I won’t be able to stop."

Charlotte swallowed, her heart pounding harder. The tension between them was thick, electric, like standing at the edge of a storm. But she didn’t look away. "Then don’t."

A muscle in Damon’s jaw tensed, his self-control hanging by a thread. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between them.

His lips crashed against hers—hot, desperate, and passionate. There was nothing hesitant about it, nothing restrained.

Charlotte gasped against his mouth, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. But the truth was, she felt like she was falling.

Damon wasn’t just kissing her—he was claiming her, pouring weeks of unspoken desire, frustration, and longing into every touch.

And Charlotte? She kissed him back just as fiercely. Because this wasn’t about duty or fate.

This was about wanting each other.

No more hesitating. No more holding back.

Damon lifted her effortlessly, settling her onto his lap as his hands slipped beneath the fabric of her dress.

His touch was cold against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

His fingers traced her spine, then slowly slipped through her brassiere, nhooking it with a single, effortless motion. As the fabric loosened, his hands moved to her breasts, his fingers brushing over her hardened nipples, making her tremble slightly.

Charlotte’s breath hitched, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as if bracing herself for something inevitable.

Damon watched her reaction, his gaze dark with amusement. "You’re trembling," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Are you cold?"

Charlotte swallowed, her lips parting slightly. "No."

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "Then what is it?"

His fingers skimmed over her sensitive peaks, rolling and teasing until a soft moan escaped her lips.

She leaned in, her fingers brushing through his dark hair as she closed the distance between them.

"Stop teasing them..." Charlotte bit her lower lip, arching her back as Damon rubbed her nipples, his movements growing faster.

"But you like it." His voice was smooth and full of playfulness. Damon’s right hand trailed down, brushing over her stomach before finally slipping into her panties. "You’re already this wet because of them."

When Damon said he couldn’t hold back, he meant every word.

Without warning, he stood up, effortlessly carrying Charlotte in his arms. "Let’s move to the bedroom," he whispered beside her ears, then bit it once.

His grip was firm yet gentle, as if she were something both fragile and precious. Charlotte curled her arms around his neck, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the strands of his dark hair. freewebnøvel.com

Her heart pounded because she could guess what would happen between them in the bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Damon set her down on the bed with deliberate care, his gaze never leaving hers. His hands, large and warm, traced the curve of her waist before he leaned down, kissing her shoulder numerous times.

"I mean it, Charlotte," he whispered, "Tell me to stop, and I will."

He truly acted like a gentle giant.

Charlotte reached up, cupping his face. "I don’t want you to stop." She ran her thumb across his cheek, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "I want all of you."

Who cared if she couldn’t walk the next day?

The pain would fade, but the pleasure would linger for days.

Out of all the ways she tried to relieve stress, having sex with Damon was the only thing that truly made her forget everything else.

Damon stripped off her dress and tossed it across the room carelessly. His hands roamed around her body, touching her breasts, her stomach, her thighs.

As his hands reached her knees, he gently spread her legs and pulled her closer until he was positioned perfectly between them.

"You’re beautiful, Charlotte," he murmured. He held her hand, kissing her palm before his lips followed the path of her hand. Each kiss sent shivers through her, the contrast between tenderness and lust making her dizzy.

As Damon’s face came to rest in front of her breast, he blew warm steam to her nipple, making it harder than before. Slowly, his tongue moves in circles around her nipple, teasing it until Charlotte moans.

Damon then sucked on her nipple, while his other hand pulled down her panties. He bit her breast a little bit hard, leaving a deep mark before he gave the same treatment to her other breast.

"Damon ..." Charlotte moaned between ragged breaths. "You’re teasing them too much."

She moved her hips, deliberately pressing closer against his crotch, feeling his big hard pillar through his clothes. A teasing smile curled on her lips as she whispered, "You need to take care of me down there too."