Reborn: The Alpha I Called a Mistake

Chapter 12

Aurelia’s POV

Ryan entered with his tie loosened and his jacket over one arm. He looked exhausted and distracted, already lost in tomorrow’s schedule.

Then he reached the dining room and stopped.

His gaze moved over the candles, table, wine, and food.

Then it found me.

For several seconds, he stared.

His surprise was genuine.

Beneath it, I saw something darker.

Something hungry.

For the first time that evening, I smiled.

"Aurelia," he said, and his voice was low, rough. "What is all this?"

"A goodbye dinner," I said, and I smiled. "You leave tomorrow. I wanted to give you something to come home to."

He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled me into his arms, his mouth finding mine with a desperation that surprised me.

The kiss was deep and searching, his hands sliding down my back to cup my ass, pulling me hard against him. I could feel him already, hard and insistent through his trousers, and I let him kiss me until I was breathless, until my own body betrayed me with its heat.

I hated that my body still responded to him, that my heart still quickened when he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

But I did not let the hatred show. I let the desire show instead.

"Dinner can wait," I said, and I reached for his clothes unbuttoning it.

He let it fall.

The bedroom was dark except for the city lights filtering through the windows, casting long shadows across the bed.

Ryan laid me down like I was something precious, his hands moving over my body with a reverence that made my chest ache. He peeled the dress from my shoulders, his lips following the path of the fabric, kissing my collarbone, the swell of my breasts, the sensitive skin of my stomach. When he reached the waistband of my panties, he paused, looking up at me with eyes that burned.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, his voice thick. "I'm going to miss this body. These tits." His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over my n*****s through the lace. "This sexy ass." One hand slid lower, squeezing, kneading.

"This pussy." His fingers found me through the damp fabric, and I gasped, my hips rising instinctively to meet his touch. He pulled the panties aside, and then his fingers were inside me, slow and deliberate, curling just right. I moaned, and he smiled against my skin, his mouth closing over my n****e while his hand worked between my legs.

"You like that?" he murmured, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. "You like my fingers inside you?"

"Yes," I breathed.

He moved down my body, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me wide. His tongue found me, hot and wet and relentless, and I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair. He licked and sucked and probed, his hands digging into my ass, pulling me closer, deeper. The pleasure built and built, a wave that threatened to drown me, and when I came, it was with his name on my lips, torn from me against my will.

"That's my girl," he growled, and then he was inside me, thick and hard and filling me completely. "f**k, Aurelia. You feel so good. So tight. So wet."

He f****d me hard and fast, his hips slamming against mine, his hands pinning my wrists above my head. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on, my body arching to meet every thrust. He was relentless, driven, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered filth that made me moan and writhe beneath him.

"You like my c**k, don't you?" he grunted. "You like being f****d like this."

"Yes," I gasped. "Yes, Ryan. Don't stop."

He flipped me onto my stomach and pulled my hips up, entering me from behind with a force that made me cry out. His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back, and his other hand found my c**t, rubbing in tight circles as he pounded into me.

"This is my p***y," he said, his voice ragged. "Mine. You understand? No one else gets this. No one else gets to f**k you like this."

"Yours," I moaned, and I hated myself for it.

He pulled out and turned me onto my side, lifting one leg over his shoulder, and slid back inside. The angle was obscene, deep and devastating, and I could feel every inch of him as he moved. His hand cupped my breast, squeezing, pinching, and his mouth found my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"I'm going to think about this every night in Paris," he whispered. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm going to see you like this. Spread open. Begging for my cock."

I came again, shattering around him, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He followed moments later, his hips jerking, his groan muffled against my skin, and for a long moment, we lay tangled together, sweaty and breathless, the sheets twisted around us.

The alarm went off at four in the morning.

I had set it on my phone, knowing his flight was at seven, knowing he would need time to shower and dress and make his way to the airport. But when the sound pierced the darkness, Ryan did not move. Instead, he rolled toward me, his hand finding my ass, his lips brushing my shoulder.

"One more time," he murmured. "Before I go."

He took me in the bathroom, bending me over the edge of the tub, the cold porcelain against my stomach a sharp contrast to the heat of his body behind me. He f****d me slowly this time, deliberately, drawing out every thrust until I was trembling and incoherent, until the only word I could remember was his name. When he finally came, it was with a groan that sounded almost like a sob, and he held me there for a long moment, his forehead pressed against my shoulder blade.

"I love you," he said.

I did not say it back.