Page 173 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
The weight of his words sinks deep, making my throat tight. I kiss him back, letting myself melt into him, my hands sliding up his bare chest just to feel the steady beat of his heart. He’s warm everywhere, his scent grounding me in a way nothing else ever could.
When he pulls back, his blue eyes search mine, and there’s so much tenderness there that it almost undoes me. “You were incredible tonight,” he says softly. “Seeing you run…I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder.”
I’m still catching my breath when his fingers trace my jaw, lingering at my chin. “And now,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower, “I want to show you exactly how much I appreciate my mate.”
The tone change is subtle but unmistakable—still threaded with warmth, but heavier now, like velvet wrapping around steel.
His thumb brushes my mouth, and I open my lips for him without thinking. “Good,” he says, approval curling through his voice. “Always so ready for me.”
The blanket slips from my shoulders, and his gaze follows the path of bare skin down to my thighs. “Lie back for me, Astra,” he says, still gentle, but there’s an edge beneath it now—a hint of the command I know is coming.
When I obey, he joins me on the bed, his mouth finding mine again, the kiss slower this time, teasing. Every brush of his lips, every slide of his hand over my waist feels deliberate, coaxing medeeper into him until my pulse is frantic and my thoughts are gone.
Only when he has me exactly where he wants me—soft and pliant beneath him—does he let that dominance surface fully. “Now,” he murmurs, gaze locked on mine, “you’re going to let me take my time with you…and you’re not going to move unless I tell you.”
I lie back, the blanket pooling at my sides, and Lucian lowers himself over me, bracing his weight on his forearms so his body cages mine without crushing me.
His mouth brushes mine once, twice, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. His lips taste faintly of the night air, and I sigh into him, my fingers playing in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
“You’re warm,” I murmur.
“I always am with you,” he says softly, his eyes fixed on mine. The honesty in them makes my chest ache in the best way.
For a moment, it’s just us breathing together, the world quiet except for the faint rustle of the blanket and the distant sounds of the night outside our window.
Then his gaze drops to my mouth, and something shifts—slightly, but enough to make my pulse kick. His thumb strokes my lower lip, and I feel my eyes close. “You’re trembling,” he says, voice lower now.
“It’s not from the run,” I admit, trying to control my breath.
A small, knowing smile tugs at his mouth. “I know.” His tone is silky smooth, warm yet warning all at once.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his tongue teasing mine until I’m chasing the taste of him. His hand slips down over my ribs, across my waist, stopping just above the place that’s throbbing for him. The tease is maddening, and he knows it.
“Patience,” he murmurs, and when I try to shift my hips toward his hand, he presses me back into the mattress with aquiet growl. “You’ll take what I give you, when I decide to give it.”
The change is gradual but undeniable now. It is still threaded with affection, but his voice has taken on that dangerous edge that makes me ache.
He slides down my body, his mouth tracing over my collarbone, then lower, until he’s nipping gently at the swell of my breast. The sharp sting pulls a gasp from me. “Lucian—”
“That’s it,” he says, kissing the spot. “Say my name when you need me.”
His hand cups me fully, thumb brushing my nipple until it hardens. The sensation zips straight through me, making me arch into him. His tongue replaces his thumb, warm and slow, before he moves to the other side to give it the same treatment.
By the time he trails kisses down my stomach, my legs are already falling open for him. He settles between them, his hands sliding under my thighs to spread me wider. The cool air hits me, and I shiver. He smirks. “Sensitive tonight.”
“Lucian—”
“Not yet.” His lips hover a breath above where I want them, and his eyes lock on mine. “I want you desperate.”
It doesn’t take long. Every slow pass of his mouth, every deliberate stroke of his tongue, is calculated to keep me teetering on the edge without pushing me over. I’m panting, my fingers in his hair. My hips try to move, but his grip keeps me pinned.
When my whimpers turn into pleas, he pulls back just enough to say, “Beg.”
“Please,” I gasp. “Please, I want you—”
That’s all he needs. His mouth and fingers work together in devastating rhythm until my orgasm rips through me, leaving me shaking and clinging to him.
I barely have time to catch my breath before he’s moving up my body again, his mouth claiming mine while his hands hook behind my knees.
