Page 30 of Brutal Alpha

“I really don’t.”

Ethan looked physically pained as he said,

“He wants to fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to fuck him,” I shot back, but Ethan didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t, though.”

Shit. I should never have told him that—I should never have done a lot of things where Ethan was concerned.

“Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I’ll take him back to my room and spread my legs for him.” It gave me a sick thrill to see the way Ethan’s jaw tensed. I was going to make him admit that he didn’t like the idea of other men touching me, and I was going to make him admit the reason why.

“Julia—” he started, but I wasn’t going to let him talk his way out of this.

“You’re not the only one who can sleep around,” I continued. “Maybe I’ll let him knot me, too.”

“Julia. Stop it.”

“Why? I’m not your mate, remember.”

“You’re still my wife.” His hands shot out to grip my hips, his grey eyes boring into mine, and I couldn’t believe he’d tried that argument; it was stupid, so stupid. Marriage meant nothing to us—it should mean nothing to us, but seeing his mouth round out the wordwifehad me shivering under his touch.

“Oh yeah?” I breathed. Suddenly, I could feel my heartbeat at my throat and beneath his palms and between my legs. His eyes pinned me, pupils blown wide.

“Yeah.”

Then his mouth was on mine, and my back was against a tree. My wolf was howling in victory, because wasn’t this what we’d wanted all along? I tried to tell her no, tried to tell myself no, but that would be a lie. Ever since I’d realized we were mates—and on a few very secret occasions before that—I’d wanted nothing more than for him to touch me. To make up for my own weakness, I bit his lip hard, but Ethan only groaned, sucking my tongue into his mouth as I melted against his body.

Feverish and desperate as it was, the kiss didn’t last long before Ethan spun me around, pushing my front against the rough bark of the tree. Grinding his erection against my ass, he stepped back, pulling me with him so that I was standing at a right angle, my arms braced against the tree trunk. I gasped as he kicked my legs apart, and I should have told him to stop, that I wasn’t going to let him fuck me and run again, but my wolfwas howling her approval and my body was betraying me more with every passing second. My nipples were hard beneath my sundress, begging for the attention of his broad, rough hands, and I knew that if he slipped one of those hands between my legs, he would feel how embarrassingly wet I was already.

Ethan did exactly that. Running a hand up the sensitive inside of my thigh, he cupped my pussy through the thin cotton of my underwear, growling low and pleased when he found the material hot and damp beneath his palm. Desperate for friction, I ground down against the heel of his hand for one, two glorious seconds before he withdrew it, hooking a finger into the crotch of my panties to draw them away from my pussy.

“So wet for me,” he purred, slipping a single, tantalizing finger between my lips. “Was this your plan all along, hm? To make me crazy?”

“No,” I whimpered, unsure even as I said it.

“No?” he echoed. Then the teasing pressure of his finger was gone. “My apologies, I’ll leave you to—”

“Don’t!” I cried, a hand shooting back to grasp his wrist. My legs were trembling, my body strung out with that heady mix of fury and desire that only he could inspire in me.

“Don’t what?” he asked, and I growled, pushing my hips back into his grip.

“You asshole.”

“Don’t what, Julia?”

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, mortified. I shouldn’t be begging for his touch. I should be making him beg. I should have him on his knees, but my wolf was keening and whining inside me. I needed him more than I’d ever needed anything.

And he delivered. With a sharp ripping sound, my underwear dropped away, and three rough fingers were parting my folds to press against my clit. I gasped, dropping his wrist to support myself better against the tree, rocking my hips in time with his movements, needing more, more, more.

Then his hand slipped away, but I didn’t have time to mourn the loss before those fingers landed on my clit again, hard. The sound of my moan mixed with the sharp slap of flesh against wet flesh, and I dug my fingernails into the bark when his hand came down again, sending a bolt of pleasure-pain shooting through my body.

“Mine.” Ethan’s voice was low and gravelly, demanding a response that I would not give. If he wasn’t going to claim me, then he didn’t own me, no matter how easily my body turned to putty in his hands.

“Mine,” he repeated, landing another hard slap on my twitching, hungry pussy. I bit down hard on my lower lip to muffle my scream, but I refused to give him the answer he wanted. Another slap, and my legs were trembling; I was so wet I could feel slick drooling out of me, dripping onto the ground beneath us, and dribbling down my thighs.

Another. They were coming faster now, his fingers rubbing my clit on every landing, and something huge and inescapable was coiling in my abdomen. Another. Another. Another.

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