Lucy
When I come to it is to the thud of his heart under my cheek. I slide my fingers over warm skin. Turn my face and bury my nose in the light smattering of hair on his chest.
The scent of his sweat and musk of his arousal turns me on, and it also strangely soothes me. I feel protected and cherished, and the still thinking part of my mind warns me I am falling into a place from which there is no return. I try to move only to find there is a heavy weight around my waist. It’s his arm, which is massive enough to hold me down.
It feels so right that I know it’s wrong.
Not like this.
All my life I’ve spent fighting that core inside me, the part that was intrinsically omega that needed to be tamed, subdued, knotted, and bred. And in one stroke he…this alpha, the most monstrous of all in the city, has done just that. And I had encouraged him. The faint recollection of giving him what he wanted, of calling him by his name tumbles over me.
My cheeks flush.
That is more intimate than anything else we’ve done.
And it shouldn’t be.
I’d called him by his name, that’s all. We all have one. Then why does it feel like I have broken a pact with myself? That I have gone back on the promise made to my clan, that I have betrayed myself by doing that?
I wriggle against the massive chest of the alpha, and he doesn’t let go. Big surprise.
He folds his other arm around me and purrs. The sound is low, and soft, and flows over my skin. Its soothing in a way it shouldn’t be. He rubs my back as if trying to pacify me. He rests his chin on my head, and I have this insane need to bury myself in his chest, to surround myself with his warmth and his heat, to draw that shroud of protectiveness over me and let it consume me. I squeeze my eyes shut, not sure why I feel the need to cry. It’s only my life that will never be the same. A sob catches in my throat. My shoulders shudder as I try to bite my lips, try to consume every last depressing emotion that wells up. What is happening to me?
The giant purrs once more, and the sound instantly sinks into my blood.
The tension drips out of me, and my shoulders sag. No, no. I don’t want that to happen.
I don’t want him to be able to manipulate me such that even my grief is something that is not my own.
I want to rage at him and tell him that.
Instead, I let the tears flow down my cheeks. The warmth pools on his chest, and he must feel it, for he firms his hold on me.
“You are upset at how you responded to me.” His breath raises the hair on my head. “Don’t be.”
He runs his palm from the nape of my neck down to my hips and back up again. The moment is soothing, and soft…tender. “You are the most passionate woman I have ever met.”
He praises me.
And it’s all wrong. He’s not meant to soothe me or take care of me. He’s meant to overwhelm and threaten and force himself on me. Truth is, he didn’t do anything I didn’t want. Even now, caught up in the throes of the end of my heat cycle, with my mind half hazy with the need for him, with my body already signaling that I need the alpha to fuck me again, the rational part of my brain insists that I can’t put all the blame on him.
Perhaps I had been stupid to walk into his lair and let myself be caught by him, and yes, he had taken me, but everything that had happened after that, I had wanted it.
I can’t blame myself for getting caught, for as soon as I had seen him, had sniffed his luscious alpha scent, I’d known it was him. Only I had been denying it to myself so far.
The thought quiets me…my muscles relax, my toes uncurl. I let my body sag against him.
Zeus seems satisfied by the response, but he doesn’t stop his purring. His large palm continues to soothe me. He drags his fingers through my hair, scraping his fingernails across my scalp. Ripples of pleasure undulate down my spine. A moan dribbles out of me.
I sense the change in him at that. Feel the hardness that nudges against my hip.
He rakes his fingers over my nape, over my spine, cupping the curve of my hips before sliding his hand into the space between my legs. I can’t stop the groan that wells up. My thigh muscles clench, locking his fingers in place.
Moisture pools inside my core and trickles down my thigh. I know this time it’s not his purring or his cajoling that has drawn out the slickness from me. It’s me enjoying his body, his nearness, his presence. It’s the way he’s tried to claim me, tried to draw the uncertainty from me.
And I feel grateful. There. I’ve acknowledged it to myself. I am grateful that he found me in the middle of my heat cycle, that I had gone into my heat cycle right there in his presence, that he had taken me and helped me through it, that it is him who broke me and knotted me. My clan… The thought of them waiting crashes through my head, and I push it away. I need to get to them, and I will get to them. But I need to use this to my advantage. Clearly, he wants me, he finds me attractive, he claimed me, and the only thing I can do is use this to help my clan. Barter my submission for them. Pretend an acquiescence I don’t really feel, to draw him into his comfort zone, until he lets his guard down, and then… My muscles tense.
A growl rumbles up from him. His hands grip my waist and, lifting me up, he slides me down the thick girth of his shaft.
Just like that, he fills me, the hard, engorged flesh dragging against my softer inner walls, sending a pulse of desire up my spine. Little bursts of flame explode behind my eyes. I moan at the feeling of being completely full, and the sound of his growl twines with mine.
He raises and lowers me on his shaft, and again. Desire thrums my nerves, liquid heat pools in my core, and I clench my inner walls around him. I can’t stop, not even if I wanted to. I am rewarded with another snarl from the alpha.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes and am caught in the swirling depths of his silver gaze. Flickers of gold spark in their depths. It captures me, holds me in thrall. When he slides his hand up to grip my nape and brings my face forward, I don’t resist.
Not even when he holds me there, poised over him, staring down into his face, my position that of mock dominance, but I am not fooled. He controls me, his anger holds me in check, the feeling of unleashed power that hums under his skin binds me to him, and the low hum of the mating cord under my rib cage tells me I am his as much as he is mine.
He lowers me down his shaft until my hips slide over his. I grip the sides of his waist with my knees and squeeze my inner walls. The burst of gold in his eyes glows brighter, and it feels…so good that I can give him pleasure. I squeeze again. A groan rumbles up his massive chest, color burning high on his cheeks.
Just like that, the sexual tension ratchets up. His nostrils flare, his eyes narrow and his gaze falls to my breasts. He flips me over so I am under him and without pulling out of me,he leans down and bites my nipple. Flares of need sizzle over my skin, leaving little sparks of fire in their wake. My eyelids flutter down.
“No.”
The command in his voice whips through my mind, and my eyelids snap open. My gaze is caught in his.
“Mine,” he growls.
I swallow. Something stretched tight inside me dissolves.
He hooks his hands under my knees, yanking my legs up and over his shoulders, so I am spread wide. I thrust my hips up, and the angle means he slides in deep. Deeper than he’s ever been before. It feels like he is piercing me in half. He seems to touch the very secret core in me where no one has, where no one else will ever be, no one but him. Why does it feel like he’s ripped off every single mask I’ve worn to the world and made me his?