Rejected Luna Queen

Nolan’s POV

That night, sleep eluded me, my mind restless and agitated. Nesta’s kiss kept replaying in my thoughts, a relentless echo that refused to fade. It keeps on echoing on and on for the whole night.

As I tossed and turned, the memory of her lips on mine grew more vivid, invading my dreams with an intensity that was almost unbearable.

In my dream, the kiss deepened, and suddenly we were no longer in my room but somewhere far more intimate. Her hands were all over me, exploring, claiming, as my body responded with an urgency I couldn’t control.

The heat between us was electric, a charged current that left me breathless. The world around us disappeared, and all that remained was the overwhelming sensation of her touch, her breath against my skin.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered in the dream, her voice heavy with need.

I didn’t. Instead, I pulled her closer, my body pressing against hers with a fierce hunger. The kiss turned into something more, something deeper and far more consuming.

My movements were urgent, demanding, as if I was trying to claim every part of her. My hands found their way to her back, fingers digging in, pulling her closer still. I can’t get enough of her soft skin.

“Nolan,” I heard her murmur against my skin, the sound of my name on her lips sending shivers down my spine.

We moved together, a rhythm as old as time taking over. It was primal, intense, a raw connection that left me gasping for breath.

The pressure built and built, every nerve ending alight with sensation. I cried out as the dream took me to the edge, then pushed me over it, the release overwhelming and shattering.

When I awoke, my body was drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around me. My heart raced, and I could still feel the ghost of his touch lingering on my skin. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady my breathing.

The kiss had been powerful enough in reality, but the dream had taken it to a whole new level.

“Nesta, you’re trying to cripple me,” I whispered into the darkness, my voice trembling.

I rolled over, clutching my pillow, as if that could somehow anchor me back to reality. The dream had felt so real, too real, and it left me with a mixture of emotions that I couldn’t untangle.

Desire, confusion, anger – they all swirled within me, refusing to be silenced. I tried to shake the dream from my mind, but it clung stubbornly.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face, felt her touch, and heard her voice. It was maddening, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. Even now, fully awake, the memory of the dream haunted me, a tantalising reminder of what could never be.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat up, knowing that sleep would not come easily tonight. The kiss, the dream — they had stirred something deep within me, something I wasn’t ready to confront.

As much as I wanted to block Nesta from my mind, it seemed she had found a way to slip past my defences, haunting me even in my dreams,

I couldn’t let this continue. I needed to regain control, to push him out of my thoughts and focus on what truly mattered. But as I lay back down, staring into the darkness, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Nesta had a hold on me, one that was proving difficult to break. And as much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn’t want to let go.

As I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind was a chaotic fiess. The kiss, the dream, Nesta – it was all too much. F found myself thinking about how I had been dealing with her.

I had been harsh, cruel even, and maybe that was the right approach. Being soft, showing any kind of leniency – that was a mistake.

“I need to stay harsh.” I muttered to myself. “I need to get what want

Nesta had to understand her place. She had to know that she couldn’t just walk back into our lives and turn everything upside down.

My heart and my head were at war, but my body had a different battle altogether. The anger and frustration were mixing with a heat that wouldn’t go away. I was getting hornier, the need growing stronger by the minute.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

1 clenched my fists, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in my body. Being harsh was a way to protect myself, to keep the walls up and not let her get too close.

I had to remind myself why I was doing this. She was a complication I didn’t need, but at the same time, there was something about her that I couldn’t ignore. It’s this stupid mating bond.

I thought about how she looked when I kissed her, the shock in her eyes, and how her lips had felt against mine. It had been a mistake, a moment of weakness, but it had also been a revelation.

The intensity between us was undeniable, and it was driving me insane.

“I need to stay in control,” I whispered, though the words sounded hollow even to me.

I turned over, trying to find a more comfortable position, but nothing seemed to help. My mind kept wandering back to her, to the way she had looked at me, to the softness of her skin, to the curve of her lips. It was maddening.

“Damn it,” I hissed, sitting up and running a hand through my hair.

This wasn’t going to work. I needed to find a way to deal with this, to deal with her. Being harsh was the only solution. It was the only way to get what I wanted without letting her mess with my head any further. I had to stay focused, to remember why she was here and what needed to be done.

But even as I resolved to be harsher, the memory of the kiss lingered, and the heat in my body refused to dissipate. I was caught in a web of desire and frustration, and it felt like there was no way out.

All I knew was that I needed to get through this, to find a way to push her out of my mind and regain control.

For now, I had to deal with the ache and the anger, with the relentless need that was consuming me. Tomorrow, I will face her again, and I will be stronger, harsher. I had to be. There was no other choice.

And she is going to be my mistress.