31. You're Very wet, Sugar.

"Stop with these questions! They don't make any sense!" Winifred snapped, growing frustrated with Arthur's relentless interrogation.

"I won't stop until you answer each one. Was he well-endowed or not?" Arthur persisted, tightening his grip on her cheeks and curling his fingers into her hair. He continued his barrage of inquiries, “Did he stretch you out, sugar? Did you like it so much?"

Winifred was confused. She looked like she had no idea what was happening. She couldn't understand why he was asking all these questions. All she knew was that she was flushed, shaking and quivering. Everything inside of her was in chaos. The pounding of her heart, all the extra air that she was sucking in, the tug in her stomach. It was like an earthquake. It felt like she was a victim of an earthquake, or a victim of him.

“Yes, I liked it. And yes, he was big. He also stretched me out.” Winifred whispered, looking at him with foggy eyes. Arthur swallowed, his own eyes appearing glassy like hers.

“Don’t lie to me, Sugar,” he rasped, clutching her hair with mean fingers.

Winifred jerked when he said the same pet name. The name he had given to her. The name that she found herself loving secretly. Maybe because Arthur not only says it, he also felt like he was making her taste it. Winifred never thought that one could taste a name, especially not her own. But the way he said it left a taste on her tongue… a taste that was musky and spicy.

"Stop calling me that, my name is Winifred not sugar."She let out, pretending not to like the name he had given to her.

"Why not? It suits you. I don't know why, but it accurately describes you," Arthur replied. He parted his lips and exhaled a pent-up breath. The air between them was charged with sensuality. Winifred couldn't help but inhale his intoxicating scent, filling her body with his sweet aroma.

Before she could utter another word, he moved away from her lips, and the next moment, she felt his presence on her neck. He nuzzled the curve of her throat, causing her to grip his biceps tightly. Confusion swirled within her as she wondered what he was doing. "What on earth are you doing? A-Are you smelling me?" she asked, puzzled by the fact that she was doing the exact same thing.

"Yes," he groaned. Winifred flinched, her neck tilting sideways. In that moment, she felt powerless under his aggression. The way he sniffed her neck, akin to snorting a line of cocaine, weakened her legs and every fiber of her being. She knew she would do nothing to stop him if he attempted to take their encounter further. He was breaking down her barriers.

"Why are you doing that? Why are you sniffing me?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

"Because you smell so delightful. Like sugar. For some reason, I have a feeling that you'll taste just as sweet. Sugar is my favorite thing in the world," Arthur confessed, not relenting in his exploration of her scent.

He devoured her aroma, and Winifred arched her back as he reached the hollow of her throat, taking in a deep breath of her own. What she smelled was exactly what she had fallen asleep to in his bed—the same scent that permeated his room and lingered wherever he had been. It was a combination of lavender and musk, uniquely his own.

Before Winifred could even think twice, her mouth had already blurted out what she probably shouldn't have said, "Y-you smell really nice too." Immediately after, she shut her eyes tightly in embarrassment. It felt as if she had lost control in that moment, as if Arthur had some sort of truth serum that made her say things she didn't intend to.

Arthur lifted his head, and Winifred reluctantly opened her eyes to find his breaths panting against her lips. He looked intoxicated, his pupils wide and swirling, as if he had just taken a powerful hit of a potent substance, something that makes your heart race and sends you soaring high.

Just like Winifred had been resisting the connection between them, Arthur was fighting it too. It was a fierce battle within him. Her scent was too captivating, too sweet and beautiful. To him, she smelled heavenly, exotic, exquisite, delicious, and arousing. It was a lingering fragrance, a mixture of rose and vanilla, that he absolutely adored.

"Do you know what I would find if I touched you there right now?" Arthur rasped, his fingers tracing the pulse on Winifred's neck.

"What do you mean?" Winifred asked, once again feeling bewildered.

"I mean, if I were to touch that sensitive spot right now, do you know what I would discover?" He spoke with a seductive and deep voice that made Winifred's heart flutter.

Winifred already had an idea of what he meant, and that thought alone made her even more tantalized. She couldn't help but arch her back further and grip his shirt tightly. Her legs and intimate area responded involuntarily, clenching and releasing in anticipation.

"No," she managed to rasp out, her voice filled with desire.

Arthur then pressed his lips against hers, sending waves of unfamiliar sensations throughout Winifred's body. "Wet. I would find it wet. Swollen, slippery, and very ready," he whispered while continuing to rub their lips together.

Winifred knew he was right. She was indeed wet, very wet and aroused. She could feel the moisture, the slickness, between her legs.

"I can smell you. I can smell your intense scent all the way from here. You're incredibly wet, Sugar. Your body is practically dripping for me. Does that mean your body doesn't hate me, even if you do?" Arthur provocatively questioned, a sexy smirk playing on his lips. His words were like a forceful stream, penetrating her senses, as his lips remained locked with hers, refusing to wander elsewhere.

Winifred despised the fact that this man was right about everything. She detested the fact that she could smell herself too—the spiciness, the muskiness, and even the pet name he called her.

Suddenly, her gaze shifted upwards, focusing on something behind Arthur at the other end of the room. There was a mirror on the wall, allowing her to catch a glimpse of herself. In that moment, sprawled around him, her dress hiked up to the tops of her thighs, her skin glistening under the light. She clung onto his shoulders, as if he held the power to save her from all the darkness in the world, even though he himself was part of that same darkness.

But what shocks her more than anything was when she looked down at his body and she noticed that he was hard. His dick was so hard and it was pressed up against the most intimate part of her. The bulge in his pants was right up at her exposed vagina and she liked the weight of it, the heat of it.

“I don’t. I don’t… want to…” She choked out but then Arthur interrupted her. He looked into her eyes and a tear breaks free, streaming down her cheek. His thumb wipes off that tear with such tenderness that a few more shake loose and follow its path. “Let me guess, you don’t wanna feel this way, do you?” He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

Winifred shook her head vigorously. "No. Not for you. Not for someone like you, not for anyone in this place or in this world..." She struggled to find the words, her voice trembling as she spoke from the depths of her being. "I won't give myself to someone who is responsible for the suffering I've endured, someone who keeps me trapped against my will, someone who treats women as mere objects for his pleasure. Absolutely not you."

Arthur's expression turned dejected, although he quickly tried to hide it. He felt the same way deep down, not wanting to be in this situation either. He could only hope that the intense attraction they felt for each other was purely physical and not something more. His inner wolf kept insisting that she was his mate, but it couldn't be possible. It just couldn't.

Before Arthur could say anything else, the door suddenly burst open, and a woman walked in, causing him to immediately release his hold on Winifred and step back. Winifred instinctively closed her legs and swiftly descended from the table upon seeing the unexpected arrival.

"Really? So the rumors are true?" the newcomer exclaimed upon spotting them.

It was Elena, Arthur's fiancée.