His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

His Knees 37



We both turned to see Carlos standing a few feet away, his trench coat billowing

slightly in the breeze. His presence was like a force of nature, powerful and

undeniable. He didn't move, but the look in his eyes was enough to freeze Nathan in place.

Carlos didn't respond to him. His eyes remained locked on mine, and in that moment, something shifted. There was a connection, something deep and

unspoken, that passed between us. My wolf stirred inside me, agitated and

restless, as if sensing something in Carlos that I hadn't noticed before. His wolf, too, seemed to respond, though neither of us said a word.

Carlos stepped forward, his hand outstretched toward me. Without thinking, I took it, his grip firm but steady. He didn't need to pull me away; I followed him instinctively, leaving Nathan behind as Carlos led me away from the bench and back toward the street. The bodyguards appeared from the shadows, moving in to block Nathan's path as he tried to follow. "Doris, wait!" Nathan's voice cracked with desperation, but I didn't look back.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Carlos didn't say anything as we walked, his hand still gently holding mine. The tension between us was palpable, but there was something else too-something I couldn't quite place. My wolf stirred again, unsettled by his presence, and yet... drawn to it.

I glanced up at him, surprised by the intensity of the moment. Carlos's face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made my heart race.

As we reached the corner of the street, he finally let go of my hand, turning to face me. For a moment, we stood in silence, the night stretching out between us. And in that silence, I realized something had changed between us. Something deeper, 11-50

more primal, that neither of us could ignore.

That flicker in Carlos's eyes hadn't left my mind. It followed us all the way to the parking lot.

Carlos and I walked in silence toward the parking lot, the night air cool against my flushed skin. There was a lingering tension between us, something that hadn't been there before, something new and unsettling.

My wolf stirred within me, reacting to his presence in a way that made my heart race. It wasn't just the alcohol; it was Carlos-his calm, steady demeanor, his quiet strength. Something had shifted between us, and it left me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

As we reached the car, he unlocked the door and gestured for me to get in. I slid into the passenger seat, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened as he closed the

door and rounded the car to the driver's side.

Once inside, the space between us felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel the warmth of the alcohol buzzing in my veins, making me more aware of everything-his scent, the way his fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved.

The car rumbled to life, and we pulled out of the parking lot. The silence stretched between us, heavy and loaded. I glanced at Carlos, studying the hard line of his jaw, the calm focus in his expression. But there was something else, too-something flickering beneath the surface, a tension that mirrored my own.

Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand on his arm. The touch was light, almost innocent, but it sent a jolt through me, igniting something between us. I expected him to pull away, to reestablish that boundary he always seemed to keep. But he didn't. His muscles tensed beneath my fingers, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a slow, controlled breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he focused on the road.

"Carlos..." I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

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He didn't respond, but the air between us grew heavier. There was something about the way he remained silent, the way his body reacted to my touch, that made the moment feel ambiguous, as though we were both walking a fine line between restraint and something far more dangerous.

We drove in silence for a while, the tension between us only growing. I couldn't stop myself from leaning closer, my fingers trailing lightly over his arm. His reaction was subtle-his jaw clenched, his breathing deepened-but he didn't pull away. He didn't stop me. The unspoken tension between us hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.

When the car finally stopped in front of my house, I fumbled with my seatbelt, the effects of the alcohol making my movements clumsy. Before I could manage, Carlos reached over, his fingers brushing against my skin as he unlatched the belt for me. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. There was something undeniably charged in that simple action, something that made my pulse quicken.


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