Stolen From the Alpha

The First Mark

Randall’s hands are hot on my back, sliding underneath the hem of my shirt as he slides it up to bare my waist to the slowly filling club. His lips graze my neck, and it’s all I can do to slap my hands into his chest and give a shove.

“Stop, Bossy Pants,” I say, my breathless voice betraying me. I don’t know him at all, but my body sure thinks we have a lot in common. “You don’t even know my name, you can’t go stripping me in public like that.”

He pulls his face from my neck and pins me again with those weirdly light eyes, his brow furrowed again as he tries to make sense of what I’m saying. “I don’t need to know your name, pet,” he says, his voice a rumble that I feel in the deepest parts of me. “You’ll be my Luna soon enough. Stripping you in public isn’t all I’m going to do to you.”

He grabs my wrist and pulls me to the dance floor, where the music is louder and fills the air with a thick, pulsing beat. He spins back to me and pulls me tight against him, pressing my chest to his, my hips tight against him. Heat flares low through me, and I meet his eyes again.

Randall starts to move with the music, his hips swaying, and I can feel his c**k pressing hard against me through his jeans. His hands start to wander, moving from my wrists, along my arms and shoulders, and exploring down my back. He pauses at the small of my back, his fingers kneading insistently, making me arch my back and press closer to him.

Any protest that I had for him is swept away in the sensations of his hands moving across my skin, traveling down to feel my ass through the tight latex pants that I put on for work tonight. The music pulls me along, and I feel like I’m intoxicated as he leans down and nips along my earlobe, then my neck. Every move he makes, every touch, lights another fire, and I feel like I’m burning for him.

My own hands are twined behind his neck, offering my whole body to him for his enjoyment, and he’s definitely taking advantage of that. He moves against me with the beat, nipping me, nibbling me, stroking and caressing me, driving the sense out of me with his explorations.

Suddenly, there’s a wall at my back, and the Alpha has me pinned against it in a dark corner beside the dance floor. He pulls back enough to give me a smug grin, and then he’s got both of my wrists above my head, holding them firmly in one hand. I open my mouth to protest, but he claims it in a kiss that lights my soul on fire.

His lips are like hot velvet against mine, and he devours my mouth with his. His tongue licks along my lips, and when I open my mouth to draw a breath, he pushes inside and licks along my tongue, starting a new kind of dance. Even if I wasn’t pinned, I wouldn’t be fighting to get away now.

His free hand is at my waist, and it travels upwards to my breast, testing the weight of my respectable C-cups before finding my n****e and stroking it through my shirt. It stands at attention, lightning shooting through me as if there’s a direct line of nerves connecting it to my groin. I’m panting, my head back against the wall, letting him do what he wants as long as it keeps feeling this amazing.

I rock my hips against him, feeling him hard and ready against me. His hand slides from my breast down to my hip, and it’s a moment before I realize that he’s got my pants unbuttoned, unzipped, and his deft fingers are sliding inside my panties to feel how slick I am for him.

“Mmmm, my perfect little mate,” he growls, and his fingers quickly find my bud, circling and stroking and driving me insane with desire. His tongue licks along my throat as he strokes me, driving me higher, closer to my peak, until suddenly I’m arching into his hand, my body out of my control, crying out and shuddering against him as my release takes me.

He slides his hand from my pants and pulls back to look at me, his face smug, his eyes bright with desire. “Such a good girl,” he whispers to me. “Come with me, now.”

His tone is commanding and brooks no argument, and he pulls away from me, but keeps my wrists trapped in his hands as he starts towards the door. My legs can barely function, but sense is beginning to return to my brain as he dodges through the other club patrons, and it’s telling me that I should probably not leave with a complete stranger, no matter how quickly he made me lose my mind on the dance floor.

“Wait,” I say, my voice breathless, but he ignores me and continues his journey to the door. Not going to happen, pal. I plant my feet and take him by surprise when I drop my weight bonelessly to the floor, yanking my wrists free and away from him.

Rolling to my feet, I plant my hands on my hips. “Who the hell do you think you are?” I ask, my voice raised enough now that we’ve captured the attention of the entire club. Those who weren’t already watching me get dragged to the door to begin with, that is.

“I already told you that,” he growls, and steps up to me again so that we’re chest to chest. My chest is definitely a fan of his, but not so much that I’m willing to be hauled outside to the curb by him. “I am your mate. And if you don’t believe me, little girl, I’m just going to have to show you.”

His eyes flutter closed, and I start to take a step away from him. HIs hand shoots out and grabs me by the hair, fingers tangling in the long red strands and holding me fast. Suddenly, it feels like his entire aura is enveloping me, a warmth so intense that it’s almost burning, prickling along my skin. So much life buzzing through me, heat and passion and…wildness.

I can smell cedar forests and hear cicadas droning, feel the cool light of the moon on my skin. The rough texture of wolf fur rubbing along my skin, like I’m wrapped in a pelt, and a whisper in my mind, mate, mate, mate.

And then, just as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and I’m simply me, Kenzie Farrington, standing in a nearly silent club staring at a stranger.

“What the hell?” I whisper. “What just happened?”

“Oh, sweet mate,” Randall answers, a smile curving those perfect lips. “I’ve just given you the first mark. You’re all mine, now.”