Alpha Daddy, My Se(X)cret Desire

Chapter 15

The next day, the aroma of sautéed garlic and meat broth filled the apartment. The servants moved deftly in the open kitchen, while Elena stood by the island, arranging vegetable cuts with the precision of an expert.

I stepped inside. "Let me help with the cutting, Madam," I said carefully.

"No need. This kitchen is crowded enough. You can sit."

I held back. "Alright."

I pulled up a high chair at the end of the island. Pots bubbled, the clock ticked, and everything felt too neat to touch. In that stiff silence, Elena glanced at me briefly, as if remembering something.

"Seraphina, what is your major in university?"

I straightened my back. "Psychology, Madam. Fourth semester."

"Psychology. Interesting."

There was a pause as the knife stopped hitting the cutting board. "Coincidentally, my nephew, who's your age, was accepted into medical school. He took an accelerated track, interning at his uncle's small clinic. You know, in many packs, doctors are always highly valued assets. Lives and honor often depend on their expertise."

I froze. I did apply to medical school back then and failed, then I dared to turn to another direction, which was psychology.

Footsteps sounded from the living room. Gabriel entered unhurriedly, his shirt sleeves neatly rolled up. His gaze took in the situation in an instant the stove, the pots, his mother, then me.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning, Gabriel. We were just talking about the future," said Elena.

Gabriel approached, standing on the opposite side of the island, so we formed a neat triangle: mother, son, and me, who was nobody.

"Sounds like an important conversation," he said.

Elena lifted her chin slightly. "Seraphina is studying psychology. I was reminding her how important concrete professions are. Your cousin is in medicine. He will be useful to many people."

I stared at the wood grain pattern on the table, letting my silence speak. Gabriel didn't respond immediately. He picked up a small towel, wiping the edge of the table which was already clean, a habit of restraint.

"Psychology is also concrete, it's just that the wounds aren't always visible."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Everyone claims their field is important."

"May I ask, Mother?" Gabriel leaned forward slightly, still polite. "10 years ago when the company almost collapsed, when you and father were frustrated and afraid of falling into poverty, who did you ask for help regarding your mental state?"

Elena didn't answer, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

"We need more than just medicine. We need people who understand the mind," said Gabriel.

"What do you mean, can psychologists replace doctors?" asked Elena.

"Not replace, but complement. We build clinics, logistics warehouses, training rooms. But so far, we haven't built a recovery space that acknowledges that a wolf's head can also be injured."

Elena just remained silent.

Elena looked at me again. "You failed to get into medical school, didn't you?"

"Yes, I failed once. Then I found that understanding the reasons people breathe can also save them from the desire to stop breathing altogether. I am studying in a place I can handle, Ma'am."

Elena lifted her chin, as if weighing whether that answer was arrogance or honesty. "Your honesty at least saves my time," she murmured.

"Mother, we are receiving Silvermoon tonight. I want this table to be remembered for its food, not for comparing someone's fate," said Gabriel.

"You're getting better at choosing your words."

"I learned from you, Mother," said Gabriel.

Elena picked up a plate, sliding one towards me. "Eat."

I accepted the plate with both hands. "Thank you."

I took a small bite of food; the savory taste of the broth felt bland on my tongue because all my senses were focused on Gabriel. He stood across from me, drinking water, but his eyes stared at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Elena finally left after receiving a phone call, leaving the two of us in the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed, Gabriel immediately moved closer to me.

"You were very brave earlier," he whispered, his warm breath caressing my ear.

His large hands took the plate from my grasp and placed it silently on the table. His fingertips touched my wrist, stroking the skin there with a movement that made my whole body tremble.

"I was just being honest," I replied.

"I know." He brought his face closer, his nose almost touching my cheek, inhaling deeply. "And you see? Mother finally went quiet. You made her speechless."

He didn't give me a chance to answer. His lips captured mine and we kissed. My hands instinctively grabbed his sturdy shoulders, clutching his shirt fabric as if afraid I might fall.

He pulled my body closer, closing the gap between us until there was no distance left. I could feel every muscle in his hard chest, and something else something hard and pulsating, pressing against my lower stomach, making a burning heat spread between my thighs.

"Gabriel," I moaned between his kisses, a weak protest drowned in his heavy breathing.

"Quiet," he growled shortly, his mouth moving to my jawline, then down to my neck. He bit gently there, a touch that was almost painful and intensely arousing. "I've been restraining myself all morning. Watching you sit there, so graceful, while mother tried to belittle you. I could barely stop myself from taking you right on this table."

His hands weren't idle. One hand squeezed my buttocks through my skirt fabric, pressing me tighter against his obvious erection, while the other hand crept up, slipping under my loose t-shirt. The touch of his warm, slightly rough fingers on my stomach skin made me jump. He sighed contentedly, kissing my neck again.

"You react to me, Seraphina. Your whole body calls out for me."

"This is dangerous, Your mother, the servants…"

He gave no time for argument. The hand under my t-shirt moved higher, smoothly pushing up my bra and grabbing my breast. The direct touch on that sensitive skin made me let out a weak cry, my head falling onto his shoulder. His skilled fingers played with my hardened n****e, pinching and rubbing, sending electric shocks straight to my core.

I gasped, my hands squeezing his shoulders, helpless against the waves of pleasure he was creating.

"Gabriel, please," I whimpered, unsure what I was asking for.

"Please what, darling?" he teased, his mouth returning to my ear, his tongue licking the outer shell. "Tell me."

"I don't know."

He growled low, a sound that came from deep within his chest and vibrated through my body. "I'll decide then."

With a quick movement, he turned me around so my back was now against his chest and his warm body. His arms circled my waist, holding me tightly. I could see towards the kitchen door, a reminder of the danger that made everything feel perilous.

His other hand moved down from my breast, sliding down my stomach, pressing through my skirt. I squirmed, trying to shift my body to get more friction.

"Be still," he commanded again. He bent his body slightly, leaning me over the marble island.

"You see? You're already wet for me," he whispered in my ear as his fingers touched my inner thighs, feeling the dampness that had seeped through my panties.

I closed my eyes, ashamed and intensely aroused.

With a practiced motion, he pushed my skirt up to my waist. His fingers slipped inside the edge of my panties, and I drew a sharp breath as his fingertips touched my most sensitive part.

"Gabriel!" I cried out, but my voice was only a gasp.

"Shh," he whispered, kissing my shoulder while his fingers began to move.

He wasn't rushed. He stroked, pressed, and circled, finding every spot that made me whimper. His other hand held my hips tightly, controlling my every movement.

The world narrowed to his touch, his breath, and the sweet fear that someone might walk in and see us, see me, being ravished by the pack leader's son, my body bent over the kitchen table, completely surrendered to the pleasure he was giving.

"I want to hear your voice, but you have to be quiet, just whisper my name," he said.

His fingers went deeper, and I pressed my lips together until it hurt to hold back my scream. It felt incredible. Every touch was torture and blessing. I pushed my hips towards his hand, pleading without words.

"So wild for me," he murmured, amazed.

His fingers moved faster, the pressure more precise. I grabbed the edge of the table with both hands. My head turned, and my eyes found his. He was staring at me with a gaze so full of possessiveness and passion, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.

"Gabriel… I… I'm going to…" I moaned.

"Come," he commanded, his own breathing becoming heavier. "Let go for me. Now."

An overwhelming wave of pleasure shattered me, making my body shake violently in his embrace. I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle my scream.

He held me tightly as I trembled, kissing my shoulder and neck, praising me with hoarse whispers.

"Good. You're so beautiful like this."

As the last tremors subsided, I went limp, leaning completely against him. He gently withdrew his hand and turned me to face him. His eyes were soft now, full of satisfaction. He bent down and gave me a long kiss.

From a distance, the sound of footsteps could be heard. I quickly straightened my clothes while Gabriel casually washed his hands. Elena arrived and I continued my breakfast.

"What about that woman? Selly? Since when did your relationship end?" Elena asked Gabriel.