The Alpha’s Wrong Bride

Episode3

The heavy oak door rattled behind us as Damion closed the final inch of distance, his massive frame completely caging me against the cold stone wall. The air in the suite was thick, charged with the violent, spark of nerves.

"You think a sharp tongue and a stubborn glare are going to save you?" Damion’s voice was a low, rough rasp, his silver-flecked eyes burning down into mine with a dark, untamed fury that made my breath stutter. "Every time you fight me, Mara, you only prove how terrified you actually are."

"I'm not terrified of you," I lied, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady as his hand slid from my wrists down to grip my shoulder, his long fingers digging heavily into my skin.

"Your pulse is hammering like a trapped bird against my palm," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the rapid, frantic rise and fall of my chest beneath the heavy satin of the wedding dress. A slow smile touched the corners of his lips.

"You can lie with your words all night, little ghost. But your body is already betraying you."

Before I could twist away, his mouth crashed down onto mine.

The kiss was fierce, punishing, and entirely uncompromising—a raw declaration of ownership that tasted of aged bourbon, smoke, and sheer, unapologetic authority. My mind screamed at me to keep fighting, to bite him, to push him away and remember the cold, invisible life I had fled. But the moment his tongue parted my lips, sweeping into the hot, desperate recesses of my mouth, a soft, pathetic moan tore itself straight from my throat.

The melted heat that had pooled low in my stomach flared instantly, surging through my veins like liquid fire. My wolf was clawing at the back of my mind, howling in absolute betrayal, abandoning all resistance as she drank in the intoxicating scent of his arousal.

Damion let out a low, deep rumble of satisfaction against my lips, feeling the exact moment my body melted into his. One of his massive arms slid securely around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the floor so my legs wrapped naturally around his hips, pressing me against the heavy, undeniable proof of his desire throbbing hard against me through our clothes.

"That's it," he groaned roughly against my jaw, his lips tracking hot, heavy paths down to the sensitive skin of my neck, sucking a bruising mark into my flesh that made my back arch off the wall. "Stop fighting it. You want this as much as I do."

"No—" I gasped, though the word was completely undermined by the way my fingers instinctively tangled into the thick, dark strands of his hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

"You're fighting a losing battle, Mara," Damion whispered darkly against my skin, his hand sliding beneath the heavy fabric of my gown, his scorching fingertips searing against the bare skin of my hip, pushing higher toward the aching, wet core of me that was already screaming for his touch. "I'm going to make you beg for me before the night is over.”

The heavy, suffocating warmth of his breath against my neck sent a violent tremor straight down my spine. Every single inch of my skin felt hypersensitive, burning beneath the heavy silk of the gown where his scorching fingers continued their slow, deliberate ascent along my hip.

"Stop," I breathed out, though the word sounded less like a command and more like a plea, completely stripped of the fierce defiance I had tried to hold onto just moments ago.

"I'm not stopping, Mara," Damion murmured against my skin, his voice thick with a dark, intoxicating hunger that made my head spin. He shifted his weight, carrying me effortlessly across the dim, velvet-draped chamber until the back of my knees hit the edge of the king sized bed.

With a swift, controlled movement, he lowered me onto the mattress, following me down so his massive, hard frame caged me completely. The contrast between his heavy, commanding weight and my trembling body felt like an anchor in a rising storm. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, frantic and exposed.

He didn't rush. That was what terrified me the most. He wanted every second of this resistance to crumble into dust.

Damion braced his hands on either side of my head, his dark, silver-flecked eyes burning down into mine with an intensity that felt like physical heat. He reached up, his long, calloused fingers catching the edge of my bodice, and with a slow, deliberate tear of expensive silk, he exposed my skin to the cool night air.

A sharp gasp tore from my throat, my hands instinctively flying up to push against his shoulders. "Damion—"

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave into a low, husky growl that commanded absolute obedience from the wolf scratching frantically at the surface of my mind.

I forced my eyes open, staring up into his fierce, unyielding gaze. There was no mockery there anymore, only a raw, consuming possession that terrified and mesmerized me in equal measure.

"You think you're unbreakable because your family treated you like a ghost," Damion whispered, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizing path over the sensitive curve of my collarbone, pressing down just enough to make me shiver. "You think enduring a lifetime of cold corners and silence made you strong. But you've never been touched like this, Mara. You've never been wanted like this."

His mouth descended again, capturing my lips in a kiss so deep, so thorough, that my thoughts instantly unraveled into a chaotic haze. The friction of his body moving closer, pressing the heavy, undeniable proof of his arousal against my core through the thin barrier of my remaining clothes, sent a shockwave of liquid heat straight through my veins.

My back arched off the mattress, a soft, pathetic whimper escaping my lips as my fingers, which had meant to push him away, instead curled desperately into the heavy fabric of his shirt, pulling him down, needing the pressure, needing the friction to stop the hollow ache screaming inside me.

Damion let out a low, triumphant groan, feeling the exact moment my body surrendered. His hand slid lower, parting my thighs with effortless authority, his hot fingertips brushing against the damp, aching center of my desire.

"Say it," he murmured against my mouth, his breath hot and ragged as his fingers slid slowly inside, making my vision blur and my hips lift instinctively toward his touch. "Say you want me, Mara. Beg me."