“Which one is that?” I dig my toes into the sand.
“You want me to spell it out for you, little squirrel?” His lips thin. His nostrils flare.
That threat in his tone sets my nerves jangling.
I know what he means. And it should terrify me. Should warn me to stay away from him.
Still, that spirit of disobedience that has brought me this far, that has gotten me into trouble so many times, urges me not to cooperate with him. Not when I am so clearly in his control. “I have no idea what you mean.”
He closes the distance between us so quickly that I gasp.
He grabs my nape and pulls me close. His fingers are long enough to curl around my neck all the way so his fingers meet in the front.
My pulse rate ratchets up.
He lowers his face and his nose bumps mine. His eyes narrow, and his jaw goes solid. The scent of dominance leaps off him, so thick and fast that it plows into my chest. Sweat breaks out on my forehead.
He rubs his thumb over the front of my neck. “Perhaps I should show you what happens to omegas who run away from their mates.”
My breath hitches; anticipation tugs at my belly, and moisture beads my core. Why does the brutality in his voice turn me on so much? Why do I want every depraved thing that he can do to me? It should feel wrong and it doesn't.
I can't stop myself from pressing my thighs together to hold in the moisture that threatens to leak out from my core. I need to put an end to the hold he has on me. I must.
“You are not my mate.” The skin over my heart ripples. The bond pulls at me, scolding me for not accepting what I already know.
“You are right.”
“I am?” I stare.
“I let you out of my sight. I left you before the ending of your heat cycle, when you needed me, instead of consolidating the bond.” He pauses, surveying me, watching me, stalking me like the prey I am.
And I am tired, so tired of being on the defensive with him.
Mates aren’t supposed to trap you or drive you out of your mind with need until you yearn for their touch, then deprive you.
Mates who are alphas are supposed to hold you, rut you through your heat cycle, then cherish you and bring you down from the high, none of which he has done.
A pulse ticks at his jaw. “I am going to set that right.” He steps forward and cups my face.
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want that…I don’t.”
Swooping down, he places his forehead on mine and purrs, a low, glorious resonance that is drawn up from the depths of his core. The notes ripple up his massive chest with such strength that the vibrations thrum over my breasts.
My nipples pebble and the flesh between my thighs weeps.
The sound of his purr strums my sensitized nerve endings. My core clenches and moisture gushes from between my legs to form a puddle under me.
A sob rolls up my throat. My chin wobbles and I raise my hands to his chest, wanting to push him away.
All I end up doing is spreading my palms, sensing the vibrations that throb up his ribcage. It’s strangely soothing. An affirmation that he is alive. That I am still alive. I push back from him. “Why do you insist on doing that?”
He bends and scoops me up in his arms then walks back toward the house. “You like it when I purr.” His forehead furrows. “It brings out the need inside you. Speaks to the omega essence of you.”
“Exactly!” I peer up from between my eyelashes. Those piercing blue eyes of his deepen in color. Mistake. Why am I trying to reason with him when all he has to do is look at me and I want to fling myself at him and ask him to take me all over again? “That’s why I don’t want you to do it.” I shove my hair over my shoulders. “It’s difficult to think, let alone speak when you do that, and then it leads to the inevitable.”
He steps over the threshold. My gaze flies past him to the narrow bed at the far end of the room.
There is barely enough space for one person. An image of me curled up against his broad back, my face pressed into those sculpted planes washes over me. It’s both arousing and reassuring, and the mix of emotions confuses me.
I shouldn’t be so needy for him.
And it’s not just my body.
My will is melting along with the rest of me, getting used to his presence in my head, in my heart, in every part of me which has begun to recognize his flavor and thirst for it.
His essence flowing down the mating bond is bending me to his will. I drop my head.
I have been fighting this attraction to him for so long. My shoulders slump. I lower my chin toward my chest, and my hair spills over my face.
“So what would you rather do?” His voice reverberates up his chest.
My insides quiver. Why is it that as I am trying to be logical, my body is hyper-aware of him? I huff out a breath. “I just want us to have a conversation without any distraction.”
He crosses the floor toward the bed. “Okay.”
“Huh?” I blink, staring up at that impenetrable visage. Whatever it was I expected, it wasn’t for the devil to agree to my request. “So you’ll be willing to answer a few questions first?”
“One.” He sets his jaw.
“Three.” Guess there is some use of having grown up in a royal household and eavesdropping on discussions my father had with his Council. All those negotiations, all that give and take I’ve witnessed is ingrained in my blood.
“Two.” He straightens his shoulders, and I sense he’s back to being the General again. He also doesn’t seem very surprised that I’d tried to talk him up.
“Okay,” I agree before he changes his mind.
“Hmm.” There’s a low exhale of breath from him, then he lays me on the bed. Pulling up a chair, he flips it around and goes to straddle it.
“Wait.” I spring up on my knees.
“Now what?” he growls, his massive shoulders flexing as he folds his arms over his chest.
“You may be used to being naked, but I am not.” I jerk my chin at his body, not daring to lower my eyes to that chest. If I do, I’ll be lost. If I look down to where his shaft is growing harder by the second, I have no doubt I’ll close the distance, grab it, lick it, and then lower myself onto it…and…not yet. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Let’s put on some clothes. Please, just until we have this conversation.”
He turns and stalks away.
I blink.
Not what I’d expected, okay? I mean, this here is an overbearing alpha-hole, the monster who runs this city as if it is his personal dictatorship and…maybe I misjudged him.
I push the thought away. Nah. Being this close to him, sensing his warmth, the tug of the mating bond, all of it is skewing my judgment. Next, I’ll be thinking of playing happy families with him, of him and me and our children in his stronghold. I shake my head to clear it.
Clearly, I am losing it, and the worst part is, none of it seems wrong.
It feels natural, more organic than anything I’ve ever felt before. How can it be a mistake, when all my instincts scream that it’s right?
“Give an omega an inch, and of course she’s going to take over your whole damned life.” He strides to the closet I’d glimpsed in the corner.
It’s so unexpected. The General of the city, the alpha of alphas, muttering under his breath like he is a henpecked man. I giggle.