The Biker Alpha's Obession

Chapter-2 That's Our Mate

Hope’s POV

2 months later

“Cheers to a brand-new life and the end of eighteen years of misery!” Harper beamed, slamming down her empty shot glass before shoving another into my hand. “Drink, birthday girl.”

“My birthday was two months ago, Harper,” I said, coughing as the tequila burned down my throat.

“Yeah, and you almost died that day. You have your wolf now too, so we're celebrating both.”

Born with a congenital heart defect, I'd spent my entire life sheltered. I was homeschooled and rarely allowed outside without Gabriel or a team of guards because no one knew when my heart might give out.

Everything changed the day Gabriel performed the transplant that saved my life. When I woke up, the chronic ache in my chest was gone, replaced by the thrum of Alpha blood finally waking up in my veins.

Harper leaned across the table, eyes gleaming. “Hope, you're eighteen, you're healed, and you finally have your wolf. You know what comes next?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Dating. Finding a mate. Getting laid!” she said, swatting my arm. “I refuse to let you leave here an eighteen-year-old virgin. Tonight, we fix that.”

“Hell yes!” my wolf agreed enthusiastically. “We need to find our mate.”

“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled. “You literally stumbled into your mate... thanks to me.”

Harper knocked back another shot, looking far too pleased with herself. “And I am forever grateful for that. I get to have you as my sister-in-law, and your brother is hot."

She gave my hand an excited squeeze, pulling a laugh from me.

“Now if only we could find a man for you,” she continued smoothly, leaning in with a sly grin. “And as luck would have it... I already know the perfect candidate.”

I frowned, but the hopeful glint in her eyes gave it away instantly.

“You know I don't feel that way about Ryder, and he definitely doesn't feel that way about me,” I sighed. “He's Gabriel’s best friend... and your brother. It’s a terrible idea.”

Harper rolled her eyes. “He’s hot, charming, single, and you've known him your whole life. What more do you want?”

“Harper…” I began, but she held up her hand and nodded.

“Fine, fine. Your loss,” she said, shoving a glass of wine into my fingers. "Drink this, then we're hitting the dance floor. And I'm finding you one of those hot guys over there. Alcohol is the best remedy for stage fright."

“I don’t have stage fright,” I scowled, taking a long sip of the wine.

Much better than the tequila. It settled my nerves enough to make me believe that maybe I really could do this. I'd read enough steamy romance novels to know the theory.

How hard could it be?

“Okay, I can do this.” I nodded, draining the glass and setting it on the counter.

“That's what I like to hear! Now go—Gabriel's calling my phone anyway, so I'll catch up in a second.”

I nodded, then, taking a deep breath, I turned and made my way toward the dance floor.

It was packed. Sweaty bodies swayed beneath flashing lights, brushing against one another as the bass pounded through the room. I squeezed my way through the crowd until I found a little space near the center.

Then my favorite song came on.

A smile tugged at my lips as my body moved instinctively to the rhythm. Before I knew it, I was dancing, completely losing myself in the music.

It was...liberating.

Just as I closed my eyes for a brief moment, breathing in the freedom I had craved for so long, a scent drifted through the air.

My entire body went still.

Leather. Cedar. Whiskey. Smoke. There was something undeniably wild about it, dark and intoxicating, wrapping itself around my senses until it became impossible to breathe. Every instinct inside me stirred, going on hyper alert.

"What is that?" I whispered, my eyes darting around the crowded dance floor.

My wolf suddenly fell strangely silent. Through the bond, an overwhelming rush of longing and certainty surged between us before a single word hit my mind.

"Oh no..." she whispered, sounding almost disbelieving.

"What?" I frowned, my pulse quickening.

"Mate."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Mate?

My gaze swept across the room again, searching for the source of that impossible scent until it landed on a man standing near the edge of the dance floor.

He stood a head taller than everyone around him, his broad frame impossible to ignore. Dark, unruly curls fell carelessly across a rugged face carved with sharp, masculine angles. His gaze found mine, warm amber eyes locking onto me with such quiet intensity that my breath caught in my throat, and for one suspended moment, the rest of the world simply...ceased to exist.

My wolf whimpered softly.

"It's him," she breathed. "He's our mate."

I'd imagined this moment countless times, but nothing could have prepared me for the force of it. He held my gaze as he walked toward me, never once looking away while I stood rooted to my place. When he finally reached me, one strong arm slid around my waist and drew me effortlessly against him.

His body was solid beneath my hands, his warmth and scent surrounding me until I forgot he was a stranger. I had never been held by a man before, yet somehow...this felt like coming home.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body going rigid as though he couldn't quite believe I was standing in front of him. His eyes searched my face with desperate disbelief before one trembling, calloused hand slowly rose to cup my cheek. His thumb brushed across my skin, sending another shiver through my body. My wolf leaned into his touch, and I found myself doing the same.

"I've been looking for you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. My breath caught.

He rested his forehead against mine for the briefest moment, his eyes slipping shut. When he looked at me again, the raw tenderness in his gaze made my chest ache.

Without a word, his fingers closed around mine, rough and warm against my skin, yet impossibly gentle. The simple touch sent another wave of warmth through me, and almost instinctively, my fingers curled around his.

Somewhere deep inside, a small voice screamed reckless. Gabriel would lose his mind if he found out. This could be dangerous.

Yet that voice was no match for the bond pulling me toward him. My mind refused to obey. My wolf had already surrendered.

So I followed him without hesitation, letting him lead me through the crowd and out of the club. The pounding music faded behind us, replaced by the quiet elegance of the hotel lobby as he guided me straight to the top-floor suite.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, locking the world out, whatever restraint he had been holding onto completely shattered.

He crowded me against the nearest wall, his deep amber eyes burning into mine.

"You're here," he whispered, his rough voice cracked with heartbreaking tenderness.

Before I could breathe, his mouth crashed onto mine. A ragged groan vibrated through his chest as his hands tangled in my hair, tasting of whiskey and smoke, stealing every drop of air from my lungs.

Without breaking the kiss, his arms slid under my thighs and lifted me effortlessly off the floor. I gasped against his lips, wrapping my legs around his waist on instinct as he carried me toward the massive bed in the center of the shadowed suite, lit only by city lights spilling through the glass.

The moment he set me down beside the mattress, his mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, the kiss deepening until I was completely breathless.

His right hand reached down, grabbed the hem of his black T-shirt, and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. The feel of his bare, warm chest pressing against mine sent a fresh wave of electricity straight to my core.

His hand slid down my waist, his rough fingers slipping underneath the hem of my dress and trekking up my thigh. My eyes snapped shut as his thumb brushed my center.

"Ah..." I slicked against his hand instantly, completely wet and trembling under his touch as my hands dug into his bare shoulders.

I knew this was moving too fast. I didn't even know his name. Yet my body betrayed my logic, arching into his touch.

His fingers reached the back of my dress and pulled the zipper down in one smooth stroke, letting the cold room air hit my bare back.

That sudden chill snapped me right out of the haze. I pressed both hands flat against his bare chest and pushed back, halting his movements.

He stopped instantly, his chest heaving against my palms. Pulling back an inch, his amber eyes locked onto mine, completely glazed over and dark with an intensity I couldn't read.

"I..." My voice trembled. "I..."

He silenced me with a finger against my lips, his amber eyes never leaving mine.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "Trust me."

The raw tenderness in his gaze unraveled the last of my hesitation. He was my mate, and he was cherishing me, handling me like I was the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

I have always dreamed of this moment, and yet this surpassed everything I imagined.

What else could I ask for?

He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose, letting the fabric of my dress slip down and pool on the floor.

Then, as gently as if I were made of glass, he tipped me back onto the mattress and followed me down, caging me beneath his powerful frame.

Slowly, he entered me, and I gasped, my eyes squeezing shut.

“Sssh…” he whispered, his voice like a siren call to the deepest, darkest parts of me.

His hard, thick length stretched me tight as he pushed all the way in. The heady mix of pain and pleasure nearly brought me to tears, and my hips lifted off the bed on instinct, taking every inch of him as my tight walls clamped around his shaft, pulling a low, rough groan from his chest.

Every deep thrust made my back arch off the bed, a breathless moan escaping me as he drove me completely out of my mind. His hands dug into my waist, pulling my hips hard against his with every thrust. The sheer intensity of his body against mine made me fall deeper under his spell.

Completely intoxicated by the bond, I surrendered to the rhythm of his body against mine, blissfully oblivious that with every breathless thrust, he wasn’t claiming his mate.

He was claiming a replacement for the dead girl he couldn't let go.