Fallen 23 Summary
Alaric feels a sudden, intense desire sparked by Meadow’s shy and vulnerable demeanor as she asks for something from him again in just two days. He notices her trembling fingers and the fear beneath her brave facade, sensing she is unsure of what she has agreed to by surrendering herself to him. Despite her drunken state, Meadow insists that Alaric promised to give her whatever she wanted, and right now, she wants to touch him everywhere.
Meadow begins to unbutton Alaric’s shirt, her confidence wavering as she faces his bare chest. Alaric teases her about freezing up, telling her that deep down she knows she cannot handle him, but Meadow challenges him with a raspy voice, asserting she might be a match after all. She presses her hand against his chest, tracing slowly down his body, and Alaric allows her to explore, feeling both desire and a protective urge as he holds her close.
When Meadow’s hands reach the waistband of his pants, Alaric stops her, warning that she is still healing from her injuries and not ready for everything he can give. He gently brushes her hair away from a bandage on her forehead, emphasizing her vulnerability and his concern. Meadow is disappointed but listens as he explains that he won’t take her virginity tonight, though he will let her experience what it means to be his in a different way.
Alaric promises to pleasure her without crossing the sacred boundary of her first time, describing how he will lay her down and pleasure her until she trembles. Meadow’s sharp intake of breath is all the confirmation he needs that she wants this. The chapter closes with a charged anticipation of what is to come, highlighting the mix of desire, restraint, and emotional complexity between them.
CHAPTER 0023
Alaric’s Perspective:
+15 BONUS
A sudden rush of heat surged down my spine, igniting a sharp awareness between my legs as Meadow’s words lingered in the air. It wasn’t just what she said—it was the husky timbre of her voice, the subtle rasp that hinted at vulnerability, and the shy curve of her lips that stirred something primal inside me. Every element combined to send an electric current straight to my cock, and all I wanted was to give her exactly what she desired.
“This is the second time you’ve asked for something in just two days, do you realize that?” I murmured lowly, my eyes dropping to her hand resting lightly on my shirt. I noticed her fingers quivering slightly, betraying her attempt at composure, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Meadow was hopeless at pretending she was in control. She put on a brave front—though why, I couldn’t quite figure out—but beneath that facade, I could sense the fear simmering beneath her skin. Fear of what I might do to her. What I *would* do to her.
She had no idea what she’d agreed to when she surrendered her body and innocence to me. And I intended to make sure she understood exactly what that meant.
Her long lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, eyes slightly glassy and unfocused. She was drunk—I could tell—but how had she gotten that way after just a single drink?
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” she said, tilting her head and leaning closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You said you’d give me whatever I wanted, Alaric. And this is what I want right now.”
My hands clenched at my sides, the urge to sweep her up and carry her to the Tether room nearly overwhelming me. I wanted to make it clear that when I promised to give her whatever she desired, it would be on my terms—and mine alone.
“So, that’s all you want?” I teased, a slow smirk spreading across my face. “Just to touch me?”
“Everywhere,” she breathed, and without waiting for my reply, she began undoing the buttons of my shirt, her movements deliberate but slightly uncertain.
Her brows knitted together in concentration as she worked, and once the last button was undone, I peeled the shirt off, leaving only my pants to cover me.
She wanted to touch? I would let her.
I caught the exact moment when Meadow faltered. Standing before my bare chest, she seemed unsure how to proceed. The courage fueled by alcohol was fading, revealing the innocent girl beneath.
No man had ever touched her the way I intended to, and that thought tightened my cock even further, straining against the fabric.
Meadow exhaled softly, avoiding my gaze. Instead of reaching out, she ran her hand through her hair, as if trying to talk herself out of what she was about to do.
“There it is,” I said slowly, my voice low and teasing. “Suddenly, you’re frozen. Want to know why, Meadow?”
I grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against me. A small gasp and a soft squeak escaped her lips.
My eyes flicked to her mouth, and I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers. “Because deep down in that innocent, virgin heart of yours, you know you can’t handle me. You know you’re not a match.”
She looked up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, and for a moment, I thought I’d scared her off. But instead, she challenged me.
“Who says I’m not?” Her voice was raspy, smooth, and it hit me like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
Her words sent a shiver through me.
Without warning, Meadow pressed her palm flat against my chest, right over my heartbeat. My jaw clenched involuntarily. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the sensation of her skin against mine—soft, warm, delicate.
It was everything I’d ever wanted.
Her hand slowly slid lower, tracing over my ribs, down to my stomach in agonizingly slow strokes.
“Meadow…” I growled, my voice rough, a warning I didn’t truly believe in.
“I just want to feel you,” she whispered, voice trembling but resolute. “That’s all.”
Her courage had returned.
I could have easily pushed her away, but I didn’t. Instead, I let her explore, my gaze locked on her as she traced the contours of my muscles, my arms. I let her see me not as a monster, but as something beautiful—something to be desired, not pitied.
My hand remained at her waist, pulling her closer so she could feel the effect she was having on me. Meadow gasped softly as my hard cock pressed against her stomach, her wide, innocent eyes meeting mine.
God. I was going to break her.
“I have this burning need to give you everything you want,” I murmured, my voice rough with longing.
And it was the absolute truth. If she’d asked for my soul, I’d have handed it to her without hesitation. I was already bending every rule I had for her.
Her hands drifted lower—this time hesitantly. When they reached the waistband of my pants, I snapped.
I grabbed her wrist—not harshly, just firmly enough to stop her.
“Why’d you stop me? I wasn’t finished,” she said, her pupils dilating as I leaned in closer.
“I gave you one glass of alcohol, and you think you can handle me?”
Her lips parted as if to argue, but then she shrugged, probably realizing the truth. “Guess I’m a pathetic lightweight.”
I stared at her—at the lips I hadn’t kissed yet, the mouth I hadn’t claimed. And damn, I wanted to more than anything.
But I wouldn’t.
Because once I started, I wouldn’t stop.
“You’re still healing,” I said tightly, releasing her wrist as my eyes caught the bandage on her forehead. I didn’t want to get angry at her sister—at least, not yet.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
“No, you’re not.” I reached up, gently brushing her hair away from the bandage. “You’re bruised, concussed, sore. You can’t take me, Meadow. Not yet.”
She flinched at my words, and I instantly knew what she was thinking—that I didn’t want her, that I was rejecting her. She didn’t need to say it aloud; I could see it in her eyes.
“I didn’t say no,” I whispered. “But you don’t understand what it means to give yourself to me. You’re not ready. Not for all of me.”
A long minute passed before Meadow stepped back, a frown creasing her beautiful face. “Then what’s the point of all this if you won’t—”
“Stop.”
She obeyed.
I pulled her close again. “How about I give you something else?”
I watched her carefully, noticing the way her throat moved as she swallowed nervously. “I’m not going to take your virginity tonight, Meadow.”
Her face fell.
“But I will let you feel what it means to be mine.”
She frowned, confused. “What does that mean?”
I bent toward her, letting my knuckles brush along her jawline. I didn’t kiss her lips—not yet. That was sacred. But I pressed gentle kisses to her temple, her cheek, the delicate curve of her neck. She shivered under my touch.
“I’m going to lay you down on this counter,” I whispered, my lips barely grazing the shell of her ear. “Then I’m going to pleasure you until your legs tremble. And even then, I won’t stop. Would you like that, baby?”
Her breath caught sharply.
That was all the answer I needed.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Summary & Review: Fallen
