She's Human but Alpha Wants Her Back.

Chapter Ten

Rea's POV

Lord, please... just this one chance to prove myself, make him trust me enough, and make this journey short, or else Dad would be thinking I must have died—killed by Darkclaw's brutal army or even their alpha.

Damien hasn't said a word since he walked out of the bathroom, nor has he even spared a glance at me. He just angled by the dresser, putting on lotions and colognes.

I notice that I'd been holding my pants longer than necessary, trying to keep myself grounded and my mind busy and avoid the excessive wild suggestions it gives.

Having my hands and legs freely to myself felt indescribably good; the spot where the chains held still throbbed, but at last, my hands and legs were no longer bound in chains. The last twenty hours have been horribly hectic for me, and all I wanted to do was just sink into a chair or a bed and let it carry me, instead of my feet. My weight felt too heavy for my feet alone to carry now, but it was just that; the tall sculpted man who's facing away from me hasn't instructed me to do so.

I hadn't come today to stress or make things worse for myself; I would make everything I do today careful, calculated, and only meant to impress…him.The question hit me now: how the hell do I not get him upset or infuriated when he faces me and does whatever it was that made him call me in here?

Anticipation and uncertainty had never ached the way It did now; I found myself standing by the door with aching feet, craving the sofa or bed badly, but I'd never dare do that—not when he hasn't permitted it. His cologne drifted towards me, flooding the whole room, an uncommon hint of smoked vanilla that curled slowly around, and I found myself inhaling without thinking, eyes flickering shut involuntarily like an i***t.

A scent reminding me exactly who it belonged to, typical of him—it gives you enough warmth to thirst, makes you lean in without thinking, then pulls away and sends you straight to hell. At the thought of this, my eyes flew open, straight at the window, snow shrouding it, the trees, the plants, and the cars and everything outside. My eyes turned glassy at the thought of Dad. No one must be eating now; their eyes must have been glued to the doors and the window, checking to see if they'd catch a glimpse of my frame, whether alive or dead.

Time stretched.

In a split second, they flung the towel aside and spun to face me. My heart skipped instantly, and you know... these eyes of mine, they've got a mind of their own, and it's just so f*****g annoying.

The bulge. Huge. So f****g huge. His eyes locked on mine as he approached me slowly, like he loved to see me unravel each time his eyes were on me, his expression unreadable. And as for me, I didn't care about his eyes anymore; I just cared about the throb between my legs.

I wasn't supposed to feel this way; I wasn't built for this, and I hadn't felt this way for any man. I had never even really been touched by a man before Damien, just the stupid dildo I used only in my room whenever the ache got out of hand, but right now, I see myself craving him at every slight awareness, and he sees it too. I would be stupid If I thought he wasn't noticing every bit of it, if not, why else does his gaze linger deliberately like someone savoring a reaction he caused?

My skin suddenly felt tight as I forced my gaze off the impeccable size of his member and focused it on the window. Yeah, a cold morning, really, with snow swaddling the window and freezing every other thing except me. My cheeks burned.

He stopped by the door just beside me; a man was standing there, like he was already expecting him.Now Damien was a little distracted; my hand had at least a little time to race wild again. He didn't even turn from me completely; while at the door, I could still see a clear outline of his briefs.

Wild thoughts clashed into my head uninvited again: what if he did the same thing as yesterday? What if… what if… what if... I shook my head quickly. "Stop!" I yelled. Loud.

Too loud. I thought I was still thinking; I didn't know I had just blurted out a real word, not a mumble, but a shout.

He stopped chattering with the person at the door, as if my voice had just reminded him of the fact that I was still here. He took a pale beige paper shopping bag from him and just tossed it on the bed, slamming the door shut behind him loudly, almost provoked.

He reached a hand above me, and my break came quick and sharp, dropping my gaze to the ground and avoiding eye contact at all costs. His hand hovered overhead, and anticipation shifted into something that made my stomach twist.Get a grip, Rea! It was just his robe. He picked a midnight blue cotton robe hanging on a valet stand beside me and threw it on.

"Move," he said, his cold voice dripping with menace. I swayed away from him, forcing my legs to move.

He reached out and nudged the heating system higher, a few degrees more, letting more warmth fill the room.Then, he tugged the robe to settle properly on his body before wrapping up the sash around his waist, keeping the robe snug around his torso. The robe hung loose around his chest, enough to reveal the rigid contours of his chest in a way that just felt...suffocating. Every passing minute felt like I was just surviving one temptation or the other.

"Stop standing there, checking me out, Rea." His words cut me off like a whip.

"I... I'm sorry." I whispered, voice cracking, face flushed, eyes dropping to the floor, not knowing what to say after finding out he noticed.I moved away from the doorframe, to nowhere exactly, just acting frantically like a psychopath.

"Take off your clothes." His words were calm and final, and his gaze was steady and unblinking as he walked towards the armchair beside the bed and settled into it. "Now."

I froze. What? Like strip here in front of him? What difference would it make? Did he just f**k you a day ago?

My mind spun—confused and terrified—yet I just knew I didn't have to disobey, didn't have to let him repeat the word he's just said. I nodded vehemently, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine. My fingers trembled as I tugged at my pullover, taking it away nervously. The pullover came off, and my breast just dropped heavily against my skin, my wooly pants next. I could feel his eyes travel over me, heat and shame twisting together as they burned deep in me.

I tossed the clothes aside, standing completely unclad while he watched like he was inspecting every bit of me. I peeled my gaze away, unable to hold his gaze; my hands flew up to my chest, cupping my breasts, in the name of trying to cover myself.

He pointed towards my feet. "Your boots too." Then leaned back, his expression unchanged.

My arm across my breast was useless; I had to take off my hands as I bent slightly, peeling off my boots. Straightening, I cupped my breast again.

He tilted his head, just a notch. "Take your hands off and stop acting like a child."

I did. Without arguing, eyes on the floor.

"Good." He said, quiet and lethal, arms draped over the armchair. "Now walk to the bathroom and leave the door open."

I bolted without delay, cheeks burning."Rea," he called me back, and I paused halfway to the bathroom. "Make sure that scruffy look of yours is gone when you come out."

I nodded and moved at a brisk pace straight into the bathroom...directly opposite him.

He was going to watch me bathe too?Was he doing this because he thought I was loose, I mean, throwing my legs wide open for a man I just met in the name of a cure for Dad?