After My Alpha Ordered Me to Cheat, He Regretted It

Chapter 3 No Turning Back

He didn't give me time to think.

One second I was still catching my breath. The next, his mouth was already on mine.

His hand slid into my hair, fingers tightening at the back of my head, holding me there. The other locked around my waist and pulled me up against him, leaving no space between us.

The kiss wasn't gentle.

It was deliberate and possessive.

His lips were thinner than I expected, but softer, too. And the way he kissed wasn't tentative. Not even close.

He took what he wanted.

My breath hitched, a muffled sound slipping past my lips as he deepened the kiss, forcing my defenses open like they were never there to begin with.

I couldn't move.

My wrists were still pinned above me, my body completely at his mercy. All I could do was tilt my head back and let it happen.

And somehow, that made it worse.

He was too good at this. Every movement felt intentional and precise, like he knew exactly how to pull a reaction out of me. My thoughts blurred. My knees gave out before I even realized it.

He'd noticed and a low chuckle brushed against my lips.

The next second, I was lifted off the ground, my body dragged fully against his. Instinct took over and my legs wrapped around his waist, holding on without thinking.

One of my heels had already slipped off. I didn't even know when. The other dangled uselessly from my toes.

His hand slid lower, moving from my waist to my thigh.

His fingers traced along the slit of my dress, brushing against bare skin, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Tell me your name."

His voice dropped near my ear, rough and almost hoarse. His lips grazed the sensitive skin behind it, teeth catching lightly on my earlobe.

"C-Claire..." My voice broke into pieces. "Claire Bennett..."

My fingers were already in his hair, tightening without permission.

"Claire..."

He repeated it slowly, tasting the syllables, like he was committing them to memory.

"Pretty name."

His lips moved again, trailing down my neck this time, unhurried, deliberate. He paused at my collarbone, teeth grazing the hollow there before soothing it with the warmth of his tongue.

A soft sound slipped from me before I could stop it.

My head fell back against the wall, breath unsteady, body no longer entirely under my control.

Footsteps and laughter echoed down the corridor, growing steadily nearer.

The moment I heard the voices, my body went rigid.

Instinct took over, and I pushed against him, trying to break free.

He didn't let me.

If anything, he pressed closer.

His mouth dropped back to my collarbone, slower now, almost deliberate. At the same time, his hand slid higher beneath my dress, fingertips brushing dangerously close along the inside of my thigh.

"Someone's coming..." My voice came out shaky, breath uneven as I tried to push him back.

He stopped, but only for a second.

Then he lifted his head.

In the dim light, his eyes locked onto mine, dark, unreadable, reflecting the heat in my flushed face like polished stone. He studied me, unhurriedly, and then, slowly, a smile formed at the corner of his lips.

"What are you afraid of?"

His voice was low, rough, and completely unbothered.

Before I could answer, the world tilted.

With one swift movement, he lifted me off my feet.

A door opened somewhere beside us, and before my mind could catch up, I was already thrown onto a soft bed.

He stepped in after me, shrugging off his jacket in one smooth motion. The white shirt beneath clung tightly to his body, stretched across his chest like it could barely contain the muscle underneath.

The door shut behind him.

Almost at the exact same moment, voices and footsteps passed right outside, close enough to make my pulse spike, then gone just as quickly.

The room fell into darkness.

Only a faint glow from a distant screen outlined his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. His collar hung open, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut across his chest.

He moved closer, sinking one knee and then the other into the bed.

His hands came down on either side of my head, trapping me beneath him as he leaned in.

"Now..."

His voice dropped lower.

His nose brushed mine, his breath warm against my lips.

"No one's going to interrupt us."

I didn't hesitate this time.

My arm slid around his neck, pulling him down as I tipped my face up to meet him.

"Then stop talking," I murmured. "Just do it."

For a second, that was all there was, heat, closeness, the weight of the moment about to tip over.

And yet, just a few hours ago, before I ever met Ethan Vaughn, I had still been stuck in something else entirely.

I was still trapped in the wreckage of another relationship, drowning on dry land no matter how hard I fought to breathe again.

He moved first, fast and decisive.

His weight came down over me, all heat and pressure, leaving no space to think.

My breath caught abruptly.

And right then, of all moments, something finally clicked in my mind.

My hand shot up, bracing against his chest, stopping him just short.

He frowned slightly, clearly not expecting that.

But I was already moving before he could say anything else.

I reached for the sheet at the edge of the bed, dragged it loose, and spread it beneath me in one quick motion.

That got his attention.

One brow lifted, his gaze sharpening. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just making it feel official," I said without blinking.

It was a lie, but I didn't give him time to question it.

My fingers caught his tie, pulling him back down and closing the distance as I kissed him first this time.

That was all it took.

He came back at me immediately, pushing me down into the mattress, his body hovering just above mine, breath already uneven.

But he stopped.

His gaze locked onto mine, dark, searching—like he was giving me one last chance to back out.

"You sure about this?" His voice dropped, rougher now. "No regrets?"

Regret was the last thing on my mind.

I almost laughed.

After everything that had happened, what was left to regret?

Instead of answering him directly, I moved first.

I shifted my weight, flipping us over in one smooth motion until I was the one on top.

I straddled him.

The moment I settled over him, the heat hit me all at once, sharp and overwhelming, but I swallowed it down, forcing myself to lean into it instead.

I acted impatient and wanting, like I truly meant it.

"No point wasting a night like this," I said lightly. "Let's not drag it out."

The air in the room shifted, growing thicker and warmer.

Everything slowed and stretched right up until the moment things were about to tip over.

And then my phone buzzed. The sound was sharp and sudden.

The screen lit up in the dark. An incoming call lit up the screen, it was Adrian.

The name flashing on the screen made me pause.

For a split second, my mind went blank.

He had never called me before.

Not once.

Confusion flickered through me, and I didn't even notice the change in the man above me. The moment he saw the name, something dark flashed in his eyes.

Then I was dragged back to the present.

The force behind him was sharp, possessive, and unforgiving.

He pressed me down harder, his gaze turning dangerous, something raw and territorial burning underneath.

"I gave you a chance," he said, voice low, almost a warning. "No backing out now."

Where that possessiveness came from, I had no idea.

And I didn't get the chance to think about it. He didn't leave me space to.

After that, everything became a blur.

He was even better than I'd imagined, or maybe worse. Because he didn't just take control, he pulled me under with him, deeper and deeper, until there was nothing left but sensation.

At some point, my phone slipped from the bed.

It hit the carpet and kept vibrating, lighting up again and again with call after call coming through until the screen finally went dark.

*****

By the time I came back to myself, two days had passed.

I was the one who stopped it.

I barely managed to stop it.

As I tried to move, his hand caught mine, fingers tightening around my wrist as if he wasn't quite done with me yet.

One of his brows lifted slightly.

"Weren't you going to wear me out?" he said, voice edged with amusement. "That all you've got?"

I was still breathing unevenly, my body soft, lingering warmth clinging to my skin. Even my voice carried a trace of it.

"I've got things to do," I said, forcing steadiness back into my tone. "I need to save my energy."

Tomorrow night was the bonfire gathering.

But before that, I had something long overdue to settle. Everything between Adrian, Vanessa, and me.

I was going to end all of it and walk away from the Kainos Pack for good.

Adrian wouldn't stop me. If anything, he'd probably be relieved.

As long as I stayed, he still had to pretend and keep explaining himself.

But Vanessa was different.

That was where things might get complicated.

Vanessa needed me, not because I mattered, but because I was proof.

As long as Adrian was willing to hurt me, it meant he loved her.

Take me out of the equation, and that proof disappeared with me.

Still, it didn't hurt to be prepared.

My hand lifted almost on instinct, pausing for just a moment before brushing along his jawline. His features were sharp and clean-cut, too good to let go of so easily.

My fingertip tapped lightly against his throat.

"Kind of a shame," I said, half teasing. "If I'd known, I would've booked you for a month instead of just one night."

Because honestly, he was exactly my type.

He was good-looking, well-built, and dangerously good at making me lose control in bed.

If things were different, I wouldn't have minded keeping him around.

But things weren't that simple.

I was leaving the Kainos Pack. And I needed money more than I needed a man. Keeping him wasn't an option.

One of his brows lifted slightly. Something unreadable flickered through his eyes.

"Two hundred thousand's enough for a month," he said.

I blinked in confusion.

"Wait, what?"

Before I could process it, he had already reached for my phone. He glanced at my face once, and the phone unlocked immediately.

Then he was tapping something in, fingers moving with quiet certainty.

"That's my number," he said, handing it back. "If you need me anytime this month, call."

I stared at the screen for a second.

There was a number and a name on the screen.

Ethan Vaughn.

For a moment, I forgot all about what he'd just done—grabbing my phone, unlocking it with my face, and putting his number in without asking.

None of that mattered anymore.

I looked up at him, suddenly serious.

"Same name?" I asked. "Just a coincidence, right?"

Because I'd heard that name before.

He was Adrian's idol, the Alpha of the Bordeaux Pack, a man hardly anyone ever saw in person.

Only pack leaders and their Lunas ever got close to him.

Someone like me would never have come close to a man like that.

There was no way a man like that would be here working as a model.

So it had to be coincidence. Of course it had to be.

The thought immediately put me at ease.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, then reached out and gave his chest a light pat—fingers lingering just a second too long.

"Alright," I said with a small, satisfied smile. "I'll call you when I need you. You're kind of hard to beat in every way."

The moment I got back to my place in the pack, the door burst open.

Vanessa walked in first, her arm looped through Adrian's as if it belonged there.

Her gaze landed on the half-packed suitcase in front of me, and she paused, clearly caught off guard.

"Claire?" she said, tilting her head slightly. "What are you doing?"

Then, as if the thought amused her, her lips curved.

"Don't tell me you're trying to pull the same stunt I did by running away?"

The last part dripped with disdain.

Like she genuinely thought I wasn't worth the comparison.

Two days ago, I would've snapped back without hesitation.

But now, I finally understood something I should've seen a long time ago.

Vanessa could disappear for five years and still remain untouchable in Adrian's heart simply because he loved her.

As for me, I wasn't even worth a passing thought.

The moment I was out of his sight, I'd be forgotten completely.

So there was nothing left to compare, argue about, or fight over.

"Apologize."

Adrian's voice cut through the room, sharp and impatient.

I froze for half a second, then looked up at him.

His expression was cold.

"Claire," he said, each word edged with authority, "apologize to Vanessa."

Of course I knew why, even without him saying it.

I looked at him carefully, really looked at him, and then I laughed.

The laugh sounded soft, bitter, and mocking.

The sound clearly irritated him. His brows pulled together, his voice tightening.

"Cla—"

"I'm ignoring her," I cut in calmly. "That doesn't mean I'm in the wrong."

I met his gaze, my voice turning cold.

"I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?"

I didn't wait for an answer.

Because I didn't need one.

"Adrian," I said, each word deliberate, "you don't care about right or wrong—you just take everything out on me."

Silence lingered between us for a moment.

Then, without flinching, I said, "You're not fit to be Alpha."