The alpha’s plaything

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

RIO’S POV

She was tender. Too tender. I did not want to be around her. It would bring pain. Pain that would be a mistake.

I was just starting to get on my father's good side. I was sick of getting punished, but she intrigued me. But I needed to resist. I was betrothed.

She wasn’t a Luna; she was a nobody who worked at a coffee shop. Father would never approve.

The knock on the door; it was the laundry. They had returned her clothing.

I carefully placed them in the closet while dropping the note I had written down for her. I needed to leave.

I had left father without an answer yesterday. I was dumbfounded. Typical of him to make decisions without consulting me. I was never good enough.

I pulled up to the driveway of the manor and handed over my keys for my car to be parked.

Father was seated in the garden as usual. It made him feel closer to mum.

He sat there with her, my supposedly stepmother. She never did anything except what my dad said.

“Good day, father,” I said to him.

“Seems you have finally gotten your head in the right space,” he said, taking a sip from his wine.

“Yes, father,” I replied.

“Sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday. The thing is that…” I was cut short by father's harsh words.

“Only failures have an excuse in their vocabulary. I knew you were a mistake but a failure. Quite surprising,” father said.

His words stung like a bee. No remorse. No apology. It made me question what I was living for.

“I’m sorry, father,” I said to him.

“Sorry is for those who have made a mistake,” he said.

“Have you made a mistake?” he asked, giving me a stern look.

“No, father,” I replied, with my head bowed.

But indeed, I have. I have fallen. I have had emotions for a human, destroying the relationship he had planned out for our family and the Kross.

I never wanted any of it. I just wanted him to approve of me.

“Good. You meet with the Kross tomorrow to discuss the wedding preparations with Linda and finalize a date, which will be announced over dinner with them,” dad said.

“Are you up to the task?” he asked.

“Yes, father,” I replied.

“You may excuse yourself when your son is hibernating like a bear,” he said, continuing his conversation with his wife. They looked happy. The happiness I never saw him show me.

For years, I have wondered why he did this to me. And if my mother were here, would he still be like this? I wanted to know why he did this.

None of it made sense. But what did not make sense was that I wanted to see her again.

I went to get my car with the motif of heading over to the bistro. I hoped to see her, at least one last time.

I got there. She wasn’t there. She must be exhausted.

Yesterday was splendid. She tasted different. Her moans were beautiful, music to my ears but too hard to contain.

The arc of her body formed perfectly, and she tasted divine. She was beautiful, gentle, and sweet.

“Good day, I would like to know if the coffee girl was in yet?” I asked.

“Shantel, no, and I am very furious. This is her second week working here and she’s already slacking off. She’s going to get fired, I can guarantee you that,” he said, reaching out for his phone.

“You would do no such thing,” I said to him. My words sounded strange to him being I was the one who blew up in the entire bistro the day before because of her.

“Sir?” he said.

“She got caught up working for me last night and she overworked herself. She said something about wanting to apologize for being rude to a customer the other time,” I said to the manager.

“Do with that what you will. I am here to request you give her a day off. She stays home today and tomorrow,” I said to the manager.

“What? We are short-staffed; that was why she was hired in the first place. We don't condone slacking off, sir,” he retorted.

“Well, this is my order, and that is what you will do, unless you want me to shut down the bistro,” I said to him sternly.

“Okay, sir. If she comes in, I’ll make sure to let her know that someone generous gave her a day off.”

“That would be wise of you,” I replied.

“Well, goodbye,” I said, walking towards the door.

I felt like a piece of me was missing. A feeling I had never felt before. I needed to suppress my urge.

Craving into my desires would cost me a great mistake I might never come out of.

It was 3 pm, and I had dinner with the Kross. But I couldn’t attend the dinner. Not like this. I needed to clear my head.

“Hey, Samantha, I need your finest girl. Blonde, slender, short… yes, short about 5’1. Yes, Hotel Montrose. Great,” I needed to taste something different. I was losing myself.

I headed to the Montrose Hotel to meet with whoever Samantha had sent to me.

She was nothing compared to her. Her presence irritated me.

“Get undressed,” I commanded.

“What?” she asked.

Sternly looking at her, she was clearly confused as to why she was here.

“Are you deaf? I don’t like to repeat myself,” I said to her, taking out my belt.

She sluggishly began undressing. When she was done at her own pace, she placed her hand on my chest, hugging me from behind.

“You are being naughty. You will be punished,” I said to her.

I ripped off her undies and threw her on the bed. I wasn’t here for romance. I was here out of detest. How could a single dwarf who is no good at her job have such a powerful hold on me?

In rage, I choked onto her and bit her neck. She let out a moan.

She did not sound like her. This enraged me and triggered me to enter her.

She wasn’t wet enough. A single trace of my fingers did the job for her. But this took up a lot of my time. Time I did not have.

I reached for the lube in the drawer to ease her of my entrance. She whined her waist in approval that I was fully in her.

She wasn’t what I wanted. I did not want this. I wanted Shantel, but why her?

I hurriedly pulled out and walked to the bathroom.

“Leave before I’m out,” I said to her.

She doesn’t deserve to have a job, and Samantha was definitely getting fired. I scrubbed hard on my skin, thinking of what a mistake I have made, regretting my actions. I deserve to be punished.

I picked up my belt and whipped myself until I filled the bathroom floor with blood.

I was satisfied, but I still couldn’t get over the fact that inflicting pain on myself did not surpass the burning passion I felt for her.

I craved her. I wanted her.