The Alpha's Eternal Ache

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EDWARD

​Never again would I allow Chloe to drink—not even a shot of Tequila. She was goddamn wasted. What was she thinking, taking shot after shot until she was senseless? What the bloody hell were her friends doing while she got drunk? And why the f**k was her scent overwhelming the entire room?

​She was supposed to be unconscious; why was she so f*****g slick? She was supposed to slip out of her horny mind while she was inebriated—I mean, she ought to have been asleep by the time I carried her upstairs in my arms. But she wasn't.

​She refused to lie back on the bed, a stark contrast to what I wanted. Well, I may have gone back on my word. What? She was still too young for an unwanted pregnancy. I couldn't risk it. She didn't know that, but I did, and I would do every goddamn thing to avoid it, even if it took every muscle in me not to have s*x with her.

​Right now, she wasn't cooperating. Her arousal had turned me on more than I could handle in my moment of voluntary celibacy.

​"Hmmm, you’re hard. I can see your d**k twitching in your trousers," her tiny, slurred voice said, breaking my gaze. I realised then that I’d been staring at her since the moment we entered the room.

​"Oh God. Shut the f**k up, Chloe," I retorted, my jaw tightening.

​"Whattttt... you are. I’m just stating the obvious," she shot back. If it was hard to keep my hands off her, it was even harder to keep her from talking.

​"You’re drunk. Go to sleep. We’ll discuss your punishment tomorrow when you’re sober," I muttered. I took a tiny step backward, but she snagged my left hand, preventing me from moving away.

​"What punishment?"

​"You don’t know? Really?" I asked. She shook her head.

​"You got drunk, Chloe! When did you start f*****g drinking, anyway? And that aside, you were trying to have s*x with that son of a b***h," I snapped, my voice rising as I thought about her behaviour with Edgar.

​"Oh, that. Technically, he is a son of a b***h," she said, looking at me with those eyes that told me she was about to say something surprisingly reasonable. "And so are you," she added with a smile, her lips stretching fully—a sight that made me think of the first time I kissed her.

​Geez. I wanted her so badly. More than she wanted me.

​"What? Don’t look at me like that. Both of you were born of wolves. A wolf is a b***h. It's all the same," she said, her head lolling as she grinned.

​Oh, f**k. This girl would be the death of me.

​"f**k me, Edward."

​"Really? Using my full name?" I asked jokingly, trying to distract her, but it wasn't working. She started unbuckling my belt. Trust me when I say she is faster when she’s inebriated.

​"I want you to f**k me, Ed. I’m serious. I don’t know what’s wrong with my brain cells, but I know I want you to f**k me so hard I can barely walk in the morning."

​"Careful, girl. Don’t underestimate me. If I had my way with you right now, you wouldn't be able to walk straight for weeks," I retorted. A pink flush crept up her cheeks, deeper than the redness from the alcohol.

​"So do it."

​"I want to, but I can’t."

​"Why?" she asked. Before I could invent a lie, she continued, "You said I am yours, and you are mine. You said you’d do anything for me. Why is s*x the only thing you won’t do? You weren't this hesitant the day you walked in on me trying to please myself. Or when you kissed me under the stairs. Why can’t you do what you’ve always wanted? Are you scared you'll break me?"

​That last part did the trick.

​"Break you? No, sweetheart. I’m not scared to break you. In fact, I would love to. And trust me, I would break you and reassemble the pieces just to break you all over again," I said, leaning over her, my hands on her thighs. It was only then I noticed she had successfully slid the belt from my loops.

​My girl was a sly little fox.

​"Then what’s stopping you?" she asked, pulling my jaw toward her. Her lips grazed mine, and I heard the shallow gasp she made at the impact.

​I had no intention of telling her the real reason. There were many ways to satisfy her without s*x, and that was exactly what I was going to do. Since she’d removed my belt, it was easy to strip out of my trousers.

​I captured her lips, savouring the weight of her before releasing her only to take her again. She moaned as I kissed her slowly. Her arms wound around my nape, pulling me closer. She adjusted herself on the bed, lying on her back as I hovered over her, careful not to pin her with my full weight. I tucked a stray hair behind her ear so I could see those pretty brown eyes.

​I trailed my hand down to her thigh. I loved how she reacted to my slightest touch—even when she tried to deny it, she forgot I was a werewolf. I heard and noticed every micro-reaction.

​I drew an invisible circle on her skin, feeling her softness against my callous fingertips. Before I could claim her skin as mine, she took my hand and pushed it toward her heat.

​Fucking hell. This girl really would be the death of me. I wasn't sure if she was just horny or drugged, because she was acting more than a motherfucker in heat.

​She looked at me with those puppy eyes, begging for an orgasm. I couldn't deny her that. I shifted her lace aside and pushed my middle finger in. She arched her back instantly. I stayed still for a moment, reeling from the fact that this was the first time I was truly touching her this way. The first time I would give her an orgasm. I made a mental note to make it the best of her life.

​She needed friction—greedy friction. She began grinding against me, her hands squeezing my neck as she sought leverage. I pulled my finger out. Her lips turned into a pout, but before she could complain, I scissored two fingers back inside. My thumb found her c**t, maintaining a steady rhythm.

​She let out a loud, raw moan.

​I was close to achieving a mission as important as saving the world from burning. Damn right—giving her this was equivalent to stopping World War III.

​"Faster, Ed. Faster. Don’t go slow... you’re torturing me, asshole!" she gasped between moans. I smirked.

​I worked my fingers against her, and she rewarded me with a cry for every pleasurable stroke. She was on the edge. I curled my fingers inside her, my thumb never stopping.

​"Count the first three digits for me, love," I said. She didn't answer. I stopped moving, though I stayed inside her. Her eyes flew open.

​"Why did you stop?" she managed to say, her voice thick with tension.

The first three digits, love," I whispered, my voice a low, gravelly rasp against her ear. "Count them for me."

​"One," she choked out, her hips bucking instinctively against my stationary hand, searching for the friction I was cruelly withholding. "Two... three... please."

​I shook my head, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my face. She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, but she was the one forgetting the basics.

​"My beautiful darling," I murmured, "as much as I want to watch you come apart, I won't have you forgetting your foundations. 'One' is a start, but it isn't the beginning."

​I leaned in closer, my scent surely drowning her senses. "I was homeschooled, Chloe. At least for the first 10 years of my life. I learned very early that everything—every number, every life, every obsession—starts at the void."

​"Ed... I can't... please..."

​"Zero," I corrected, my thumb hovering just a millimetre above her c**t, close enough for her to feel the heat but not the relief. "The first digit is zero. Now, start again. Give me the zero, and I’ll give you everything else."

​The moment the word "Zero" left her trembling lips, I didn't just resume; I conquered. I increased the friction and speed, my fingers hitting her soft spot deep inside as the scent of her climax hit me just as she stopped number on two.

​She shuddered, vibrating with everything she had as she released it down her pretty thighs–which I have no intention of letting it go to waste –and she produced the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

Remember when I said I had no intention of letting her juice go to waste? I meant it. I hooked her legs over my shoulders and licked every drop, tracing the path from her thigh to the very source. When my tongue flicked against her, she let out another wrecked moan. That sound released another tamed beast in me; I stayed there, devouring her until I’d forced a second orgasm from her shaking body.

​I was expecting her to beg for a third, but as the last of the tremors faded, she fell into a dead sleep. I leaned back, wiping my mouth, watching her pulse settle. I suppose I did a good job.