Page 55 of Brutal Alpha's Sold Mate
“What do you say we take this inside? Before I fuck you in front of the whole pack,” I growl against her neck.
“They already know we’re mated,” she says with a laugh, but there’s an edge of desperation in her voice. “But if you’re worried about privacy, we’d better hurry. Because I don’t know how long I can keep my hands off you.”
I don’t need any more convincing. I scoop her up and carry her into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind us. Once we’re inside, I lower her to the floor, and we crash together, our lips meeting in a frenzy. I peel her shirt off, revealing the smooth skin beneath. My hands roam her body, exploring every curve. Her hands work the zipper on my pants, and I groan as her fingers brush my aching cock.
She slides her hand inside and wraps her fingers around me, stroking me slowly. My body responds, my erection hardening even more. She’s driving me crazy, and I can’t wait any longer.
“Get on the bed,” I order, my voice rough with need.
She releases me and gives me a sultry look before she does what I ask. As she backs into the bedroom, she strips off the rest of her clothes, one piece at a time. Her eyes never leave mine, and the way she moves is mesmerizing.
When she’s finally naked, she sits on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs, showing me how wet and ready she is. I stalk toward her, stripping off my own clothes. By the time I reach her, I’m on my knees. Her scent is driving me wild.
I lean in, kissing a trail from her ankle to the inside of her thigh. She shudders as I move higher, teasing her with soft kisses and gentle bites. Then I press my tongue against her center, and she moans. The sound is so hot that it nearly makes me come right then and there.
I lick and suck until her body trembles and her cries echo off the walls. I bury my face in her heat, drinking her in, wanting every drop. My cock is rock-hard, and my balls ache with the need for release, but I’m not done yet. I want to make her come again.
She’s sitting up, watching my every move as I slide a finger inside her. She’s so tight and slick that it makes me groan. I curl my finger, finding that perfect spot, and she lets out a gasp.
“Don’t stop,” she begs.
I don’t. I keep stroking her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. When she comes, her body quakes, and her nails dig into my shoulders. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s panting and sweaty and still trembling, but she finds the strength to grab my arms and haul me onto the bed with her. I settle between her legs, and she guides me to her entrance.
I thrust into her, making us both cry out. She’s so tight, and the feeling is incredible. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. We find a frantic rhythm, moving together as if we’re made for each other.
We’re both sweating and panting. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes through the room. It’s hot and primal and exactly what I need. When I thrust harder, she matches me stroke for stroke. We’re lost in the moment, and nothing else matters.
My balls tighten, and I can feel the pressure building inside me. Her body starts to shake, and I know she’s close, too. We’re both teetering on the edge, and when she moans again, it sends me over.
I erupt inside her, the pleasure so intense that I can barely breathe. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I don’t want it to end. Heaven and hell collide in my chest, and I can’t believe how perfect it feels to be buried inside her, how perfectly she fits around me.
We collapse in a tangle of sweaty limbs, and the only sound in the room is our breathing. I’m spent, but the afterglow is incredible. She rests her head on my chest. The softness of her hair against my skin makes me feel like I’m floating.
She traces the scar on my chest and presses a kiss to it. The tenderness of the gesture is unexpected. My heart twists, but neither of us says a word. As we lay there in the quiet, the truth comes into sharp focus.
This is the realest thing I’ve ever felt. This is the connection that everyone talks about, the pull I’ve been trying to ignore. And as much as I wish it wasn’t true, there’s no denying it now.
I’m falling for my mate, and there’s no going back. No other she-wolf will do.
Kai’s the only one for me.
And no matter how badly it could end, no matter how much the future terrifies me, I’m not sure I can ever let her go.
Chapter 21 - Kai
I can’t believe how many corners a small cottage can have. I’ve spent the past week lurking in every one of them, avoiding Theo like my life depends on it. The worst part? He hasn’t tried to chase me down, which only makes it all feel more awkward. If I were him, I’d probably be demanding an update. Not Theo. He’s turned quiet, as if part of him already checked out. And that’s precisely why I need to keep my distance. Because the moment he leaves, I’ll have to cope with his absence, and I’d prefer not to do it while drowning in whatever heartbreak might explode from acknowledging I want him to stay.
One would think it’d be easy. Just tell him I think he’s reckless, that I hate his conquering schemes, and that I wish he’d make a choice besides war. Then again, if it were that easy, I wouldn’t be pacing my bedroom at dawn, trying not to hear him moving around the kitchen.
The last time we spoke, I shut down everything he said about proving himself to his pack. I made it pretty clear that Alec has decided not to intervene, that East Hills wants no part of a family feud in another territory. So, we’re back to crossing swords with his brothers as the only path to security, as far as he sees it. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with my own alpha, who insists neutrality is the best policy.
“We can’t meddle,” Alec told me, “unless the threat spills over here.” Very helpful. I guess it’s good for East Hills that we prefer staying detached. Not so good for me, considering I’m caught between my loyalty to this pack and my growing feelings for Theo.
Truth be told, I’m convinced he’ll never listen to me. He’s too stubborn, too convinced that dominating Reed and Jacob is the only real solution. So I figure if I avoid him, I can start the process of removing him from my thoughts. Deny myself the chance to fall deeper under the spell of his presence and that maddening spark that pulls me in. Because any day now, he’ll pick up his bag and walk out that door. When that happens, I need to be ready.
But no matter how determined I am, my resolve fractures a little more each time I catch a glimpse of him. Once or twice, I found him repairing a squeaky floorboard or tidying the living room, trying to be thoughtful. That small kindness nearly broke my resolve. I had to scurry off to rummage in a closet like an idiot, ignoring the way my heart fluttered. He’s making it so much harder to keep my distance, which is probably the point, but I can’t let myself slip.
