Page 25 of Nursing the Alpha
Because what if he hated me? What if he looked at me with disgust?
What if I lost him?
Flynn turned, stretching again, and the robe gaped wider at the chest. His nipples still hung heavy and long, the right one glossy with milk. His hand brushed it again—absent-mindedly—and he winced. Sensitive.
I swallowed thickly.
My cock was hard again, the ache almost unbearable.
And all I could do was sit in the dark, behind the glass, trembling with the hunger to be known by him… and the fear that if I stepped through that door, I’d lose the only sweetness I’d ever wanted to keep.
Flynn crossed the room, robe tied loosely at the waist, and pulled open the fridge. I watched through the glass as he grabbed the chilled bottle from the top shelf. The one I’d prepared hours ago, like I always did. Just a mild sedative. Nothing strong. Nothing harmful. Just enough to lull his body into softness. To help him sleep. I’d lowered the dosage because he had to leave for our date.
He unscrewed the cap and tilted his head back.
God.
His throat worked with every swallow, the hollow of it flexing, the muscles shifting beneath the delicate skin. A small trail of milk glistened on his chest where he hadn’tnoticed it dripping. I clenched my fists against the arms of the chair.
This was always the part I hated most.
He trusted the space I gave him. Trusted that when he shut the door behind him, no one was watching. He moved like the room was his. Like he was safe.
And that made me a coward.
I didn’t want to hurt him.
I just… wanted to be close.
Flynn pressed his hand to his temple, blinking a little too slowly now. He turned, swaying slightly, and made his way to the sofa bed. As he sat down, the robe parted, his bare thigh flashing pale in the low light. He lay back, one arm curled over his stomach.
It didn’t take long. The sedative always worked quickly.
Within minutes, his breathing had slowed. Deepened.
I rose from my chair and slipped through the hidden access door into my office. My heart was pounding, a heavy ache beneath my ribs as I crossed the space and opened the secondary door. The one that led directly into the hallway.
As I exited, Faith passed by, heading toward the kitchen with a tray of empty bottles. She didn’t look at me.
She never did.
That was what I liked about her. She kept her head down. Kept her questions to herself.
She knew exactly what I did to Flynn, but didn’t question it.
I paused outside Flynn’s room for a second, then opened the door. The soft glow from the wall sconce bathed the room in gold. Flynn lay exactly where I’d last seen him. Arm over his stomach. Lips slightly parted. Chest rising and falling beneath the loose fold of his robe.
He looked… breakable.
Beautiful.
I sat down beside him slowly, careful not to jostle the mattress. I didn’t touch him. Not yet. I watched. So close now I noticed the faint sheen of milk drying on the slope of his left pec. His skin was flushed, his lashes trembling faintly with each breath.
I couldn’t help it.
I moved one hand to the knot of the robe.
Slowly.
