Page 59 of Forced Alpha Bride
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff, getting out of the car. “You’re injured, and you can’t lead the pack like this. They need you strong, not bleeding out on the street.”
“I think the bleeding’s stopped.”
“That’s good news, but it doesn’t mean you’re going out to fight. Get inside.”
“Yes, dear,” Damon says with a smile.
He moves carefully as we go to the front door, but he doesn’t seem to need my help anymore. He heads straight to the living room, and I follow him, trying to settle the war ofemotions inside me. I’m worried about him—terribly so—but I don’t want to admit it to Damon, or to myself.
What strange creatures we are to have emotions so strong, they cloud all of our choices and leave our heads arguing with our hearts every day.
“Damon, seriously, are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he answers, sitting down on the couch and lightly touching his ribs. “The wound has closed.”
I sit beside him, looking at the long, dark bruise across his ribs. I can tell there was a nasty gash across it that healed. Underneath, his ribs are slowly knitting back together.
“I think it’s okay,” I say. “You won’t need a healer.”
“I told you,” he says in that smartassy, flippant tone I love to hate. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not!” I yell, shoving his shoulder. “You got really, seriously hurt out there. Why did you take a stupid risk like that?”
“I thought I heard someone inside,” he says. “I had to check.”
I want to be mad at him, but his eyes are so soft and earnest, he disarms me. He wasn’t being reckless or trying to show off. He was genuinely worried someone was hurt.
“Winnie, were you worried for me?” he asks softly.
I nod, looking into my lap. “Yes,” I murmur. “I was worried.”
Damon touches my chin and tilts my head up. His eyes are so dark, they look pure black, like deep, subterranean pools filled with unseen treasures.
When he leans forward, I grab his shoulders and pull him towards me, slithering into his lap as our lips touch. I’m careful not to straddle his waist and touch his sore ribs as I dig my fingers into his arms and deepen the kiss.
This is stupid. So fucking stupid. But I want him… I can’t fight this!
Damon’s hands run down my back and over my hips, cupping my ass to give my cheeks a hard squeeze. I moan as he pulls me closer to him and runs his hands back up towards my shoulders to tug on the straps of my dress.
The deep ache inside me throbs, a sudden pulse that feels almost like pain. I can feel my pussy getting slick as Damon’s hands get rougher, squeezing me and tugging at the dress.
Suddenly, one of the straps tears, exposing my breast. He immediately clamps his mouth on my nipple, yanking my ass towards him with one strong arm while his other hand fondles my breast, and his mouth devours the nipple. He thrusts his hips upwards against the pressure of his hand, and I feel his hard cock rubbing against me through my clothes.
Panic streaks through me, clashing against my desire. I struggle in his hands, and he groans in pleasure, pinning me against him as his tongue circles my nipple. As he opens his mouth to suck on it, nibbling with his teeth, his eyes slowly close like a predator sinking its fangs for the first juicy bite of sweet flesh.
Adrenaline shocks me to life, and I fight against him, finally struggling free and pulling away until I actually fall on the floor. I scrabble away a little, my heart pounding so hard, I can feel it in my throat. My breath heaves through my lungs as black dots swirl in my vision.
“Winnie, what’s wrong?” Damon asks. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never…” I stammer. “I mean… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Was I too rough?”
I look up into his eyes, and all I see is concern. He’s not upset or judging me.
He really wants me to feel good. How can I possibly explain that I’m not scared of him… I’m scared of myself. Of letting go. Feeling only desire. Being swept away by it until there’s nothing left of me.
“Winnie, tell me what I can do.” Damon slips off the couch to kneel in front of me. “Do you want to stop?”
