Page 20 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

“Breathe, Lina. Breathe with me. In….and out…In…. and out….”

For a long time, there was only Stephen’s breath mingling with mine. For a long time, all we were was our breath.

But after a while, the darkness and small space didn’t feel threatening anymore, but…comforting because the darkness was full of Stephen now. His breath, his warm, gentle hands in mine, and his earthy scent wrapped around me.

My death grip had eased, and as I opened my palms, his thumbs began to massage circles in the center of my hands.

The feeling sent a jolt of awareness rushing through me, my skin tingling with anticipation instead of panic.

“How does that feel?” he murmured, his voice a low growl, and instantly I was caught up in another memory. But this was a good memory. Or it was now, as all I remembered right now from the night we met was the heat that was pooling in me again, along with the jolt of recognition of who Stephen was to me: my mate.

“Good,” I’d whispered, and giving myself to this moment completely, I dared to whisper. “Good.”

“Good,” he echoed, continuing to massage the center of both of my palms in slow circles, just as he had massaged the arch of my foot the night he’d helped me back to my motel room.

The last rational part of my brain told me to stop this. There were so many reasons why we shouldn’t give in to this pull between us, but the same fierce want that had awoken years ago now trembled through my body.

Just then, the elevator jolted, the sudden movement causing me to stumble into his chest, and all at once, I was pressed up closely against him, the feel of his muscles against my breasts sending a jolt of desire straight to my core. My hands curled around his arms, gripping his biceps for support. He’d grabbed hold of my arms protectively, drawing me nearer, and I felt his heartbeat pounding against my own rapidly beating heart.

All the want that had built over the last couple of weeks while working together rushed up, and I murmured, “Stephen.”

In an instant, Stephen cupped my jaw, his kiss a slow, exploratory one as his lips asked wordlessly whether I was okay. I hadn’t even known I needed this gentleness, but I melted into him, telling him I was and that with him, I felt safe.

There was nothing but the heat of his mouth against mine, a connection that sent shockwaves along my skin. The games of control and the secrets I had to hide were swallowed by the dark, too. All that remained was the heady mix of the taste of him on my tongue. It mingled with the memory of our night together, and time telescoped until I felt as if we were suddenly back in that dark motel room.

My wolf roared within me.

Him, him, him.

Mine, mine, mine.

She loved the primal quality of the darkness, feeling as if she were in a den in the earth, with only hunger and heat blanketing us.

As his teeth grazed my bottom lip with a perfect blend of teasing and urgency, I gasped, needing more. I nibbled back, our tongues dancing in a slow rhythm that felt both familiar and excitingly new. The intoxicating spice and earthiness of him that I’d been battling for weeks now enveloped me, and I was lost, drowning in the scent, taste, and feel of my mate, suddenly never wanting to leave this place.

Chapter 8

Stephen

When Lina’s fear had blossomed, I’d rushed to her side, intending only to offer comfort. But the moment her breathless whisper—“Stephen”—escaped her lips, laced with such raw want, it had shattered my control. Within seconds, my lips were on hers, craving the connection, needing to assure myself that she was okay.

As Lina’s beautiful lips opened to me, it was like a match striking kindling. The hunger I’d worked so hard to keep at bay ignited with searing intensity, coursing down every nerve ending and filling me with insatiable need. Protectiveness charged through me like a jolt of electricity, compelling me to wrap my arms around her, drawing her closer until every inch of space between us was obliterated.

My wolf, who had been prowling just beneath the surface, restless since her panic had erupted, surged forth—driven by the primal instinct to be close to our mate. I felt the needs of my beast mingle with mine, and we both wanted one thing: to drink down her greedy moans as I marked her with our claws.

My breath grew ragged as Lina pressed her lower body against mine, her softness and heat pressed against the hardness already straining through my pants. She’d followed my commands earlier, matching her breaths with mine, but now, as our panting breaths mingled, the other commands I wanted to give her filled my thoughts. I imagined pushing her against the elevator wall, her legs wrapping around my waist as I urged her, “Open for me, Darlin’.”

She’d obliterated the careful façade I’d maintained the last couple of weeks, but as she quivered beneath my kisses, I couldn’t find it in myself to give a damn. I wanted her, plain and simple. The thought sent a thrill through my body, emboldening me to tighten my hold on her locks, dragging her hair down so that she tilted her mouth up to mine more, my fingers gliding possessively down her exposed neck.

But just as I felt like we could tumble into something more—something raw and all-consuming—the sudden hiss of the metal doors sliding open shattered the moment. A group of repair workers appeared in the doorway, flashlights cutting through the darkness with blinding beams, ruining our sanctuary.

“You all right, folks?” One of the maintenance crew asked.

“Fine, thanks,” I ground out, having to stifle the protective urge to draw Lina into me, wanting to shield her from their eyes. In the light, her lips looked beautifully bruised, and her hair was tussled.

“I’m taking the stairs,” Lina blurted before barreling out of the lift and past the maintenance team.

I followed her, the need to protect her still riding me hard.

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