Alpha's Chosen Mate

8

I grab his collar and pull him down without a single thought. He lets me. He wants this, too. I can tell because he’s breathing harshly and his eyes are flashing. I close my eyes when I feel his breath tickle my skin. An inch farther and I’ll finally have a taste of those tempting lips⁠—

Asher yanks his hand back from mine, and the spell shatters. The warmth and delicious heat in my core turn cold. My senses return to me just in time to register something cool poised at my fingertip. My body trembles with the pressure of too many emotions at once.

“Do you, Leilani Stone, vow to be his eyes and ears, his strength and confidant, his equal and partner in this bond forged in love and respect, for as long as you live?”

I stare at the elder, wide-eyed. A heavy “no” sits pretty at the tip of my tongue, but I never get to say it, because Asher makes an impatient sound and pushes the emerald ring onto my finger. “She does. I do. End it, Baron. Now.”

Elder Baron pales, and he stutters for a moment before getting the words out. “By the power vested in me by the Moon Goddess, I pronounce you alpha and luna. You may now seal your bond with a kiss.”

Asher doesn’t kiss me. He walks away from me, and the guards guide me back upstairs. They return me to my room, now tidied, and the chains are placed on my right wrist and ankle once more. I don’t bother fighting. I’m too stunned thinking about what the hell happened down there. I almost kissed him. I wanted to and would have, had he not stopped it. Even now, my core tightens at the thought of how close my lips were to his.

I’ve felt this before. The memory is clear as day: the moment I discovered Christian was my mate. It doesn’t make sense. I still have Christian’s bite on my shoulder. I feel it even now, pulsing weakly. I’d know if Asher was my mate.

Too restless to sleep, I stay awake, waiting for the devil himself to make an appearance. If he is as ruthless and cruel as they say he is, he’ll try to consummate our marriage. He’ll force me to. I’d rather be ready to fight like my life depends on it—because it does—than have him catch me off guard.

But there is no need to fight, because Asher doesn’t come.

CHAPTER 4

LEILANI

I

spend all night reading. It’s the only thing that has kept me sane over the last three days. I receive no visits from my father or my captor. All I get is a silent Enya dropping off meals and comments that make me want to claw out her eyes.

Occasionally, Christian’s mark on my shoulder flares and crippling pain consumes me, lasting for well over an hour. He’s having s*x with Georgia, and I have to suffer because I wasn’t given a chance to accept his rejection.

It’s all left me emotionally exhausted. I’ve been waiting around for my father to show up, but it’s clearly not happening. I’ve been an i***t to think he’d choose me over the pack for once. Sick of everything, I’d hurl the book at the window and pull the sheets over my head, sobbing myself to sleep.

A finger travels up my calf, rousing me from sleep. My eyelids flutter, but I’m too tired to keep them open. The bed dips to my left and those fingers slowly push up my nightdress. “Do you like it gentle?” A too-familiar voice asks roughly, and I’ve never had a more brutal wakeup call than having large hands grab my thighs and pull them apart. “The pictures say otherwise.”

There’s a blue-eyed demon hovering above me. I scream.

A hand slaps over my mouth, and Asher makes a strangled sound. “You’re afraid, but you’re wrapping your legs around me.” My gaze darts to his shirtless, toned torso, and I’m mortified to find that my thighs are indeed around him, holding him close. Asher tsks. “Pretense really isn’t your strong suit.”

I bite his palm in retaliation, even as my hips undulate against the sweet hardness between his legs. His eyes darken and he shuts them, muttering under his breath. “f**k, you’re a tease.” When his eyes open again, they’re clear. “You pulled me into this miserable dream, Leilani. Wake up.”

I don’t understand what he’s saying.

My skin grows hotter with every second he leans over me, with every inch of his tattooed skin I see, with the growing erection nestling between my thighs. My breasts are heavy and my n*****s ache for attention. Wetness pools between my thighs and I gyrate harder, trying to make sense of the fact that this arrogant, murdering prick’s presence unravels me this way.

The hand against my lips draws back abruptly as Asher settles between my thighs, gripping each like a vise. The sight of Asher on his knees with moonlight caught in his hair makes me almost wild with lust. This is hotter than anything I’ve felt before. I’m on fire, and only Asher can douse it.

“Asher…” I rasp, pushing myself up on my elbows and watching as he hikes my dress up until my blue lace panties come into view. “We shouldn’t—” I bite my bottom lip, moaning as his hands wrap around my waistline, toying with the tiny bows on the sides of my nightdress. “I don’t want this.”

His eyes are like chips of ice, cracking at the ends. “I don’t, either.”

We stare at each other like that for a minute. I move first, but Asher is faster. My lips collide with his in the same moment his fingers graze my skin. I feel my panties slacken as his tongue plunges into my mouth, sliding against mine hotly with an expertise that could only come from experience. It makes me mad to think someone else had him before me. The thought is vile because I don’t even like him, but I don’t dwell on it. It’s hard to when his lips leave mine, trailing kisses down my neck until his teeth are dangerously close to my pulse point. “You smell so good, it’s unreal.”

My clothes come off quickly, almost like magic. His blue eyes stare at my naked body with a feeling too soft for me to read. I pause in my exploration of his chest, unsure. “What?”

A broad, tattooed hand reaches between us. My breath hitches when he takes his time holding each breast and running his hand down my belly, stopping just shy of my folds. Holding my gaze, his finger slides down, parting them. I bite down hard on my bottom lip to halt a moan. He doesn’t break eye contact as he pushes a finger inside me. “Anderson was a fool.”

Another finger enters me, filling up the hollow, aching heat in my core. And then, he hooks both. I mewl, clenching hard around his fingers.

Suddenly, he lifts me, flipping me over so my face presses into the mattress. Asher grips my waist, arching me against his length. “Asher,” I whisper. “This isn’t⁠—”

Something soft—a piece of cloth—pushes past my lips, silencing me, and he pushes my head farther into the mattress with a growled order: “Don’t speak, or I’ll remember.”

His grip turns harsh and unforgiving, and I scream into the cloth as his c**k plunges into me. It doesn’t matter that I’m so wet I can feel my juices trickling down my thighs. It still hurts. He’s too large, and I’m not ready.

I fall forward, trying to get away, but Asher catches my hands, trapping them behind me. His next thrust has me coated in sweat and tears. It’s too much. I can’t breathe. I try to adjust and relax my inner muscles around him, but when I squeeze again, he grows harder, larger inside me.