I paused the kiss momentarily, just to reposition myself, but he wasn't willing to let go. He held me firmly and pulled me beneath him in the backseat of his car. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined making out with him in his Bugatti. In that instant, nothing else mattered. His imposing frame hovering over me, his lips fervently meeting mine – those were the only memories I wanted to hold onto. I adjusted my stance, parting my legs while we continued to kiss, creating space for him between them. And he didn't break the momentum. With my legs wrapped around him, our bodies connected and our desires rising. I could feel his bulge pressing against me, a clear indication of his anticipation. His hands explored my arms, finding their way to my chest, all the while his insistent tongue sought entrance into my mouth. A soft, involuntary moan escaped my lips, "Ah!" I gave in, allowing his tongue to explore my inner world. Our tongues engaged in a passionate duel as his hands claimed my attention, caressing my breasts. He massaged them until my nipples were rock hard. I was so mesmerized by his body that I had begun to rock my lower body against his. After kissing me for a while, he too started to move his body, following my rhythm. It felt amazing. But then there was this feeling that I couldn’t get rid of. The world between my legs wanted his attention, so I kept raising my body and colliding it with his aggressively. He broke the kiss only to bury his face in my neck and pass me little kisses. He then traveled down, following my cleavage with his tongue and shoving his tongue in my bra. "AHHH!" I moaned loudly this time, throwing my head back and swallowing the lust. While he kissed my cleavage, his hand made its way between my legs and inside my panties. I squirmed, as I have never been touched there like that before. The moment he rested his hand on my pussy, he whispered, "You shaved for me?" I shuddered at those words. He might not be aware, but he was my first in everything. I never let anybody talk to me like that. However, many thought that was not true. His finger ran along the tight line of my pussy, and the instant he rubbed the tip of it against the entrance, I jolted awake. Everything he has done to me so far flashed before my memory. Even the rejection itself was enough for me to push him away. I did just that. "Stop!" I gasped, pushing my body away from him and lowering my legs from the street to mend my clothes. "What happened?" His tone was filled with confusion, which in turn infuriated me. "I don't know about you, but I don't sleep with someone who isn't mated to me." My words dripped with bitterness, and as soon as they left my lips, he let out a grunt."As—" His sentence was cut off as I abruptly turned to face him. "You keep accusing me of sleeping with one person or another. So, why do you even care to sleep with me?" I scoffed, maintaining a piercing gaze into his eyes. "Oh! I suppose this is the moment where you change the subject." A sarcastic laugh escaped me as I shook my head in disbelief. "Why is that man always around you?" He caught me off guard by not diverting to an insignificant topic. "Mr. Zeon Holt?" I furrowed my brow, perplexed by his intense focus on him. "I've already told you, he's a friend of my father's. He visits to spend time with him and play cards." My words held truth, yet the skeptical expression he wore was enough to convey his disbelief. "Right! How many of his friends come by and stare at you nastily?" He nodded as he posed the question. "How would I know, Atticus?" I dropped the title, addressing him directly by his name. A subtle shudder ran through his body, followed by a fleeting smile that he quickly concealed. "So, is it just your father who brings them home?" His question irked me. What was he even insinuating? "You think I'm inviting them over? You do realize I just turned 18, don't you?" I sought clarification, just in case he was unaware. "It's not just about age. Werewolves can turn evil as young as 16," his comment struck a nerve. He seemed to portray me as some malevolent she-wolf, capable of significant actions but unable to defend myself against bullies. "You believe I'm ------ evil?" I inquired, curious as to why he hadn't voiced this perspective before. Oh, wait, he had. Accusing me of bringing men home and pledging myself to them once I reached the age of consent. He had labeled me as evil multiple times, yet here I was, entangled with him. "I'm just s---," his words faltered as I cut him off. "I don't need to hear your excuses," I muttered, searching for my belongings to exit his car. "I'll take you home," he said, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he closed them tightly. However, I shook my head in response. "I'd rather risk getting robbed than travel with you." It seemed my remark hit a nerve, as he emitted a guttural grunt, his gaze locked onto me with a fiery intensity. "Do you not see your mistake?" His voice was a low, intense whisper. "Cynthia! Consider this my final warning. Cease your association with that man," he cautioned, his forceful breaths and unwavering eye contact conveying his message with urgency. "I—" My attempt to respond was swiftly cut off as he lowered his head and let out a scoff. "And you pushed me away for him," he murmured, guilt tinging his words for our earlier intimate encounter. He then snatched up his phone, exiting his own car in a swift motion. The door slammed shut behind him as he walked away, leaving behind the vehicle that was his own. I remained seated for a moment, collecting my thoughts, before finally deciding to leave.