Page 42 of His Problem Alpha
He starts to move, his thrusts deep and punishingly slow. Each one hits that spot inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes. I’m making sounds I didn’t know I could make—high, desperate whines that would mortify me if I had any capacity for shame left.
“Mine,” Alex growls, his pace increasing, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I gasp, the word breaking on a moan as he hits that perfect spot again. “Only you, Alpha. Always you.”
His rhythm falters for a moment, and I know the words affected him as much as they did me. He pulls out suddenly, and I make a sound of protest before he flips me onto my back.
“I want to see your face,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “I want to watch you come apart for me.”
He pushes back in, and the new angle is devastating, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. His eyes never leave mine, intense and possessive. One hand comes up to grip my throat—not choking, just holding, a primal display of dominance that makes me whimper with need.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking my pulse point. “Taking me so well. My omega. Mine.”
His other hand wraps around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. I’m close already, wound tight with need and desperation.
“Alex,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “I’m going to—"
“Come for me,” he commands, his voice a low growl. “Show me how good I make you feel.”
I come so hard my vision whites out. I cry out his name, my body clenching around his cock as I come in hot pulses over his hand and my stomach. He follows a moment later, his hips stuttering as he pushes deep inside me. I feel his knot beginning to swell, stretching me further, locking us together.
“Mine,” he growls against my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as his knot fully forms. “Mine, mine, mine.”
The pressure of his knot against my prostate triggers another smaller aftershock that leaves me trembling and gasping. For a long moment, neither of us moves. We’re locked together—not just our bodies, but something deeper I can’t face right now. Alex’s weight presses me into the mattress, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.
Eventually, he shifts, careful not to pull on his knot, gathering me against his chest. His arms wrap around me, protective and possessive. I should feel trapped. Instead, I feel safer than I ever have in my life.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft with concern.
I nod, too overwhelmed for words. He presses a kiss to my temple, his hand stroking soothing circles on my back. We stay like that, locked together, breathing each other’s air. I feel myself drifting, content and sated, when a sharp buzz cuts through the quiet.
Alex’s phone, discarded on the nightstand, lights up. The bright screen illuminates the message, and a name jumps out at me: Finn.
The change is immediate and visceral. Alex goes completely rigid against me. The warm, possessive scent between us curdles instantly. It turns sharp and acrid—panic, guilt, and something that smells like old grief. It’s a scent I’ve never experienced from him before, and it makes my stomach clench with dread.
“Who’s Finn?” I ask, my voice careful.
Alex pulls away as much as his knot will allow, his face shuttering closed. “Just an old friend,” he says, his voice flat and distant. “It’s nothing.”
But his entire body, his scent, his eyes—they all scream that it’s everything. The warm, possessive alpha who just marked me as his is gone, replaced by the guarded, wounded stranger from our first months as roommates.
“Alex,” I start, reaching for him, but he turns his face away.
“I said it’s nothing,” he repeats, his voice hard. “Drop it, Devon.”
His words sting like a slap. I fall silent, the afterglow evaporating like morning dew. We lie there, physically connected but emotionally miles apart, until his knot finally subsides enough for him to pull out. He does so carefully, but without meeting my eyes.
“I need to shower,” he says, already moving away from me.
“Alex, wait—”
But he’s already gone, the bathroom door closing with a soft click that feels like a gunshot in the quiet apartment. I'm left alone in the bed, wet and empty, still feeling where his hands had been.
The alpha who’d just marked my throat, who’d growledmineinto my skin like I was the center of his universe, had vanished in seconds. And somehow that felt worse than if he’d never been there at all.
I shiver, suddenly cold despite the lingering heat between my legs. The marks on my throat and shoulder, which had felt likea promise moments ago, now feel like a brand of ownership on a property that had just been abandoned. I bring a hand up to touch one, my fingers tracing the faint indentation of his teeth, and for the first time since he’d pulled me into his arms, I feel completely and utterly alone.
Alex
