Marked as His Slave, Born as His Mate.

Chapter Two: His to Touch

I don’t move.

I just stand there, stunned, my heart slamming against my ribs as Alpha Raze turns and walks away—leaving those final words hanging in the air like a sentence I can’t escape.

“You’ll sleep two doors down. Close enough for me to hear if you make those little sounds again.”

My thighs are still soaked. My p***y still clenches from how exposed I feel.

He knows.

Knows what I was doing. What I was thinking. That I touched myself thinking about him. That I whispered his name while c*mming.

And now he’s moving me into his wing. His territory. His control.

I should be terrified.

But instead… my legs carry me forward like I’ve already submitted.

I don’t even remember how I reach my new room. A guard leads me down the hall—silent, expression unreadable—but I can feel his judgment in every step. He doesn’t need to say it. I’m no longer an omega in service.

I’m an omega in heat.

And I’ve just been claimed.

The door shuts softly behind me. I’m alone again.

I exhale shakily, looking around.

It’s… beautiful. Clean. Rich dark tones, soft rugs, tall windows cloaked in thick velvet curtains. The bed is massive—king-sized, with a carved wooden frame and blankets I’ve never touched in my life.

There’s a wardrobe. A vanity. A polished mirror that reflects back a version of me I barely recognize: flushed cheeks, wide eyes, lips swollen from panting. My thighs glisten.

I look like a girl who’s been touched.

No.

Ruined.

And he hasn’t even laid a hand on me yet.

I drag trembling fingers over my inner thigh and feel how wet I still am. My ruined panties cling like second skin. The smell of my arousal fills the air. He’ll smell it when he comes in.

Because I know he will.

There’s no lock on the door.

Of course there isn’t.

I’m still debating if I should undress and try to clean myself when it creaks open behind me.

I jump. My whole body tenses.

Raze.

He doesn’t say a word as he steps inside. His eyes lock on mine, then trail downward—slowly, deliberately. I try to stand taller, try to pretend I’m not shaking, but it’s no use. His eyes strip me faster than my dress ever could.

“You didn’t wash.”

I swallow hard. “There wasn’t time.”

“You’re dripping.”

I don’t respond. Can’t.

He steps closer. I try not to retreat, but my body moves instinctively. He stops a breath away, his towering presence devouring the space between us. His scent hits me—thicker, stronger now. That wild musk that makes my n*pples harden and my knees feel weak.

“You want me to pretend I didn’t smell you in the hall?” he murmurs, voice like velvet and steel. “Pretend I didn’t hear you moan my name through the walls?”

Heat floods my face. My legs press tighter together.

“I… I didn’t mean—”

“Liar,” he says, softly.

Then his fingers are under my chin, tilting my face up to his.

“You meant every moan. Every slick thrust of those fingers. You were thinking of my c**k inside you.”

My breath hitches. “Yes, Alpha.”

He smiles, but it’s not kind. It’s dark. Possessive.

“Strip.”

My hands shake as I reach for my dress. The fabric sticks to my damp skin as I pull it over my head. I let it fall to the floor, leaving me in my soaking-wet panties. My n*pples ache in the cool air.

He watches everything. Slow. Silent. Unblinking.

Then he steps forward and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties—and rips them clean off.

The sound rips through the room.

My gasp echoes after.

“You were soaked hours ago,” he growls. “And still, you’re leaking like you’ve been edged all day. Is that what you want, omega? You want me to tease you? Keep you dripping?”

I whimper. “I want… you.”

“Not yet,” he says, dark amusement in his voice. “First I want to see what I’m dealing with.”

He pushes me backward until I stumble and fall onto the bed. My legs spread instinctively, shamelessly, and he groans deep in his chest like it pleases him.

Then he kneels.

And I realize what he’s about to do.

“Wait—Alpha—” I breathe.

He grips my thighs, holding me open.

“Oh.”

His mouth crashes into me, tongue plunging deep between my folds. I cry out, hips lifting from the bed. His growl rumbles against my cl*t as he licks, sucks, devours me like a man starved.

His tongue slides inside, then up, flicking over my throbbing bud. I can't breathe. Can’t think. My fingers curl into the sheets. My moans bounce off the walls. Slick gushes from me, coating his chin.

He grips my hips hard, holding me in place as I writhe.

“Alpha—oh gods—Alpha—”

My climax hits like fire. My entire body convulses. My p***y clenches, pulsing around nothing, desperate for more. I feel myself leaking down onto the bed, my thighs shaking violently.

But he doesn’t stop.

He keeps going.

My second orgasm builds too fast, too sharp. I sob his name again, broken and wrecked.

When he finally pulls away, his mouth glistens with my arousal. His eyes are pure fire.

“You taste like you were meant for me,” he says.

I’m panting. Soaked. Ruined.

But his expression doesn’t soften. It hardens.

“Lie back. Spread your legs wider.”

My thighs tremble as I obey.

He moves over me—fully clothed, powerful, unyielding. His knee presses between mine, spreading me further.

Then he leans down and whispers against my throat:

“I could take you right now. Fill you. Knot you. Mark you so deep, no other male would dare breathe in your direction.”

My breath stutters. My p***y clenches around nothing.

“But I won’t,” he says, lips brushing my ear. “Not yet.”

“Why?” I whisper, aching.

“Because when I do,” he growls, “I want to hear you scream. I want every omega in this house to know who you belong to. I want you loud, wet, wrecked. And begging for me to f**k you harder.”

I moan, helpless, already on the edge again.

He bites my neck—not hard enough to mark. Just enough to promise.

Then he pulls away, and I whimper at the loss.

“You’ll stay here,” he says, rising. “You’ll sleep here. You’ll wait here until I come for you again.”

And with that… he turns and walks out.

Leaving me naked, dripping, ruined—and more desperate than I’ve ever been in my life.

My legs are still shaking and he hasn’t even completely taken me yet.

I crave more, I need more.

My juices are covered on the bed and I can still feel the warmth of his face on my p****y as it drips down my thighs.

My p****y wants to clench his c**k.

I want to ride him into oblivion.

I want to stick his c**k into my mouth while he slams my head into his pelvis.

The thoughts don't leave me, even long after he already left.

I place my hand on the tiny mark he made on my neck and I can still feel his tongue on my neck.

I spread my legs again, this time all alone and I push two fingers in.

I rub my c**t and circle my folds, right where he licked me up.

I pump in and then out,

in and then out.

Faster

Harder

My juices spilled all over my hands and finally I was exhausted.