Claimed by the Alpha

by Laxmi Hariharan

  The climax had caught me completely by surprise; it had simply crashed over me.

  Liquid heat had erupted from my center, and my butt cheeks had clenched. Slick gushed out of me in thick streams, even as he’d raised his head and slipped in a finger into my back hole.

  That had sent me over the edge.

  Sparks of white had crashed over me—I swear I’d seen sparks of red in front of my eyes. Goosebumps had erupted on my skin, and the red and white had simply yanked me under.

  When I’d come to, it was to the warmth of his chest at my back.

  He’d held my limp body up, so I was kneeling and he was positioned behind me.

  I’d been so far gone then, so pliant, and floating on that post climax high that I’d simply raised my arms behind and around his neck and pushed back, trying to smash as much surface area of my body to his as possible. I’d all but rubbed myself against him. I’d wanted to absorb his scent, the feeling of his skin gliding over mine, that roughness of his calluses as he’d grabbed my thighs and pried them apart… I’d wanted it all…and he’d known it.

  “Ready, Squirrel?” His breath rustled in my ears, a second before he'd hauled up my hips and slammed into my dripping pussy from behind.

  I’d screamed. My back had curved down. My hips had twitched and clenched and begged for more.

  “You didn’t think I’d take you there without preparing you first, did you?” He’d nipped the shell of my ear. “The time will come, just not yet.”

  The promise in his voice had curled my toes.

  I’d trembled. My elbows had slipped, and I’d deepened the stretch of my body. I’d thrust up my hips, had waved them right in his face. I had begged him to take me, and he had.

  He’d pushed a finger into my back hole.

  I chafe my thighs together. Don’t do it. Don’t. I thrust my finger into my sopping channel. I want to come again. To ride out the climax as I had done with him earlier.

  I’d felt him purr, and that had drawn forth even more slick.

  That force inside me had intensified all over. It had surged up from the soles of my feet.

  He’d pulled back to the edge of my channel and slammed in again and again. On the last thrust, I’d felt his knot slot into place, and he’d shot streams of cum into me, filling my womb. I’d been aware of the liquid building up, adding to the wave of climax that had crashed over me.

  It had felt like the next climax had begun to build almost at once, sweeping through me. I remember throwing my head back against his chest and screaming, even as I’d held on to his shoulders and raked my nails over his skin. I’d collapsed and must have fallen asleep, for when I’d come to, he was gone.

  He’d left me as he’d said he would.

  My belly. I drag my finger from my channel. Raise it to my lips and suck on it.

  The salty taste of the remnants of his cum fills my mouth. I roll it over my tongue and swallow it down. I taste like him. Smell like him. Behave as he’d trained me to even when he’s not around.

  My heart hammers, and my pulse flutters at my throat. I don’t know who I am anymore. I swing my legs over the side of the bed to place my feet on floor

  Every part of me feels like it’s been well and truly fucked. The woman I’d been, the Lucy who’d stood up to her father, evaded the marauders and reached the shores of this country is fast drowning. I am losing myself in him. Until all that’s left is the echoes of my climax. The high of the endorphins brought on by our mating lingers in my blood. My head spins.

  I groan and drop my head forward. My free arm dangles between my legs. There’s a liquid feeling in my limbs, as if I am melting everywhere. If I stand now, I am positive my knees will buckle. I look around and spot the tall glass of orange juice on the side table.

  I snatch it up, raise it to my lips, and drain it.

  The sugar seems to revive me at once. I place the cool glass against my forehead. That’s when I see the note. It’s folded, and there’s no name on it, but clearly, it’s for me.

  I gnaw on my lower lip. I shouldn’t read it. Don’t care what he has to say to me. My fingers tingle. Who am I kidding? I want to…need to know what’s in it. I place the glass back on the table and reach for the note.

  What could he have written anyway? More excuses? Lies? This alpha confuses me.

  I firm my lips.

  One minute he wants me, and the next he pushes me away.

  The only person he hates more than me is himself, and isn’t that a laugh? Surely whatever he wants to tell me can’t be all that bad? I pick up the note and unfold it.

  I’ll be gone by the time you read this… I wanted to say thank you...

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  Thank you? He actually wrote thank you? Probably just a trap. I am sure he doesn’t mean it.

  ...for being with me for so long. I haven’t always been tender with you…but, I don’t think you want gentle, do you, Squirrel?

  You are an omega, yet you’ve challenged me, baited me, you even claimed me first. It might have been your instincts as you say, or maybe I was just irresistible…(the latter, I think).

  Bet he’d smirked as he’d scrawled that. Ha!

  Either way, I claimed you, too. Clearly you haven’t accepted the connection between us for you led Kayden straight to me and betrayed me.

  My stomach flip-flops. I firm my lips.

  It turned out for the best, as this way I can keep my half brother under the same roof as me.

  “You had him imprisoned, asshole,” I fume. Now I am talking to the man in his absence. I toss my head.

  His voice comes through so strongly in the letter it’s as if he’s here in the room with me. My scalp prickles. Stupid dominant alpha, his presence is everywhere. Even when he’s not physically with me, he is influencing me. The hair lifts on the back of my neck. I look around the room. Well, I am in his suite, surrounded by his scent, and faced with the evidence of our recent coupling on this bed, so clearly, I’d think of him, right?

  I lower my gaze back to the letter.

  The thing is, Omega, you are the one for me. The only woman who’s stood up to me, gone toe to toe with me, and even managed to win a few of our encounters…which, I allowed you to, of course.

  “The ego of the man,” My fingers press into the paper. I want to scrunch up the note and throw it aside, and yet I can’t. Besides, he did write, The only one for me… Does he mean that? Zeus has many faults, but the alpha I have come to know does not lie. I continue reading.

  Which is why I can’t let you go, you understand? It’s why I need to keep you chained, much as it pains me, because it’s the only way to ensure you don’t escape again. I need you to be safe, so I can focus on defeating the Marauders.

  My heart stutters. A cold feeling grips my chest. He’s gone after them. And he purposely didn’t tell me. The sneaky bastard.

  Yeah, if I’d told you, you’d have found a way to sneak off with us, or convinced me to take you along, and you know I can’t.

  You make me weak, make me care for you, make me want to protect you, all of which makes me vulnerable, and I don’t like it, not one bit, Squirrel.

  Doesn’t change that you are my mate.

  I’ve exercised my right to block the bond, as only an alpha can, so you cannot track me; you will not be able to read me or intuit what’s happening to me, and that’s for your own good. So don’t try to escape and come to me if anything happens. Not that anything will.

  “Overconfident alpha-hole,” I rake my fingers through my hair. “You’ve gone and put yourself in danger. You are doing exactly what that Berserker wants. I am not going to let you die, Alpha. Not on my watch.”

  To find out what happens next get OWNED BY THE ALPHA. 1-CLICK HERE

  Love bad boy alpha-holes? Look no further...

  The sexy Dark Fae of the FAE CORPS, are the heroes of the Fae’s Claim series.

  "★★★★★Reading this book is like burning in flames of passion, lust, an
d danger. A turbulent race to an explosive climax." Amazon Top 250 bestselling author Skye Jones

  Read an excerpt from Dante and Gia’s story

  Gia

  “Incoming heat missile.” The bartender stares past me.

  I turn, and he clicks his tongue. “Don’t be that obvious.”

  Right. I bite the inside of my cheek, then straighten to peek in the mirror above him.

  A group of men talking, two women conversing at the far end. Everything seems normal. Exactly why I’d chosen this watering hole at the edge of Red Square in Moscow.

  Then, one of the women points to the entrance of the bar.

  I follow her gaze.

  The figure of a man fills the doorway. He’s tall enough for his head to graze the top of the frame.

  The hair on the nape of my neck rises.

  Sunlight pours over him, and his features are in shadow. Yet there’s no mistaking the sense of danger that radiates from him.

  The bartender lowers his voice. “Good luck.”

  I grip the bottle of water, the skin over my knuckles stretching tight. “What do you mean?” I swig from the liquid, wishing it were something stronger. But I can’t afford that, not when I have to return to duty with the Bureau of Shifters later today.

  “Alpha-hole headed your way.” He chuckles.

  “Wait. What?” Every instinct in me snaps to attention.

  He jerks his chin in the direction over my shoulder, then moves away.

  Don’t look, not now. I hold my breath. Then heat slams into my back. It’s as if a furnace has been switched on behind me.

  My mouth goes dry.

  The scent of the first rain on parched earth teases my nostrils. My blood thumps.

  I raise the bottle of water to my lips again, when arms cage me in on either side.

  I peer out of the corner of my eye and see a corded forearm peppered with dark hair.

  Muscles flex under the tanned skin and flow down to meet long, tapered fingers.

  Hands that could trail over my skin, grasp my curves, squeeze my flesh, and massage them and… Heat flares in that secret place between my legs. I clench my thighs.

  A flutter of lust licks my belly.

  I lower the bottle. My fingers tremble, and my palms go slick with sweat.

  I swivel around on the barstool and stare at the widest pair of shoulders I have ever seen. The man is massive; his big body blocks out the sight of the rest of the bar.

  He doesn’t move. Just stays, hunched over me. He’s all around me.

  His perfectly sculpted pecs are accentuated by a plain white T-shirt that clings lovingly to every single muscle. Dog tags nestle between those hard planes, and his nipples are outlined against the fabric.

  My mouth goes dry.

  I want to lean in and lick the valley between those chiseled planes, then drag my tongue over his skin, across to that nipple and bite it.

  I swallow and raise my eyes.

  The tendons of his beautiful throat flex as I move my gaze up to his square jaw. There's a shadow of a dent in the center of his chin. My fingers twitch. I want to reach up and trace the furrow.

  One side of lips turns up in a smirk.

  Bet he knew exactly what I was thinking just then.

  A shiver runs down my spine and my nerve endings stretch with anticipation. He won't be gentle, this man. He'll take without regret, and... I want him to do just that. I want to nip on his pouty lower lip, then swipe my tongue over his cruel mouth… A mouth made for snarling, for sucking… for taking… Heat sweeps my skin.

  I tilt my head back, and farther back, forcing my gaze to climb over that hooked nose to the furrow between those hooded eyebrows and… I gulp. Blue eyes blaze at me.

  They are turquoise and sea blue with a hint of green, and there are amber flecks that ebb and flow in them. It’s as if there’s a fire that’s lit inside, one which is reflected in those irises. Yet his pupils are so dark. Empty. Cold. So cold. A shiver ripples down my spine and… whoa! Is it possible for one pair of eyes to have so many conflicting emotions?

  This man could rip me apart and not care. He would own me, possess me, make me scream with pain, he’d bring me so much pleasure. Damn!

  My thighs clench. My fingers tremble, and the bottle of water slips from my grasp.

  I keep waiting for the crash of the bottle hitting the floor, except this gorgeous, otherworldly, heat-inducing, moisture-drawing, perfectly beautiful hunk of a guy swoops down and catches it.

  His muscles uncoil as he straightens. Every move of his seems to be etched in sheer poetry. I try to move, and it’s as if my body is weighed down.

  He raises the bottle and holds it right in front of my nose. “Yours?”

  “Mine.” I force the word out through a throat that feels it’s lined with shredded glass. Does he realize that I am staking my claim on him already with that word? “Impressive catch.” I jut out my chin.

  “I know.” His voice is low and husky and tugs at my nerve endings.

  There’s no mistaking the innuendo in his tone. He’s so damn self-assured, so confident of the impact of his nearness on me. It should annoy me, but the truth is that his arrogance is a turn-on. Sheer charisma oozes from his every pore, threatening to overpower me with the dominance of his personality.

  My belly flutters. Heat flushes my cheeks. I reach out and grab the bottle from him.

  One side of his lips quirk.

  A kind of know-it-all, I-know-the-effect-I-am-having-on-you kind of smirk. The kind of smile that does not quite reach his eyes. The kind that promises that lurking just under the surface is a male who will take without permission.

  It’s bad and oh so good.

  Every part of my body seems to wake up and scream for attention. For his attention. His very careful ministrations on every inch of my skin, my body, my soul.

  Someone opens the bar door at the front. A breeze sweeps in and flows over me, bringing with it more of that fresh rain scent. It's laced with a hint of something dark. Forbidden. Out of bounds. My heart stutters.

  He tilts his head. His hair is cut close to his scalp. The strands rise, spiky in the front.

  I have a sudden image of my thighs framing his face as he dips his head between my legs.

  My belly tightens. My pussy is instantly wet.

  “You are not human,” I state the obvious.

  He’s too well built for us to belong to the same species.

  He could be a shifter… except for the way he moves, it’s too smooth, too fluid, not like their more deliberate gait.

  “What are you?” A ripple of apprehension slithers down my spine. And yet I can’t stop staring. Can’t take my gaze off that perfect face.

  “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” he purrs.

  Goosebumps flare on my skin. I gulp. I’ve never had such an intense reaction to a complete stranger, not like this.

  “You okay?” He peels his lips back.

  It’s not a smile but a declaration of intent. A promise to take without mercy. Anticipation tightens my skin. My scalp tingles.

  No. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I tilt the bottle to my lips and take a sip before lowering it.

  Perfect white teeth flash at me, setting off that honeyed tan of his skin. That, combined with the lines that stretch from the corners of his eyes, tells me he spends a lot of time outdoors.

  The man reaches out with his finger and touches the corner of my lips. “You left some behind.”

  Heat flickers out from that whisper of a touch, down to my core, and I stiffen. Every muscle in my body tenses.

  The man brings his finger to his lip and sucks on it.

  The sight of those gorgeous lips closing around his digit sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. My belly quivers. My heart stutters. More moisture slicks my core.

  What the bloody hell?

  Who is this man? And why am I reacting like he is the last male I’ll ever see? Probably because it is true? Because I
am about to embark on the most dangerous part of my mission, and I don’t want to die a virgin? Because I want to know how it is to be taken, possessed… by him? No way am I letting that happen, not by a complete stranger.

  I sidle off the barstool, still holding the bottle in my hand, then duck under his arm. He lets me go and my breath comes out in a rush.

  Don't turn around. Don't look at him. I stumble up the corridor. When I reach the ladies' I lunge for the door and fling it open. I cross the floor of the restroom and lurch to a stop in front of the sink.

  Close call. At least I escaped.

  I plop the bottle on the counter and grip the edge of the sink.

  So why does it feel like I am missing out? That I’ll never know how it feels to trace those biceps with my fingers, to rub my face against the rough whiskers of his chin, to have him bend me over and slam into me, and… My belly twists, my pussy clenches, and the moisture flows from between my thighs.

  Heat sweeps over my skin chased by chills. Sweat beads my forehead. I don’t have a choice. Looking around to make sure the space is empty, I swoop under my skirt, push aside my panties, and thrust my finger into myself.

  “Ah.” My groan fills the space; the sugary sweet scent of my arousal spikes the air.

  I plunge the finger in and out of my dripping channel, then add another. “It’s not enough.” I grit my teeth.

  “Maybe I can help?”

  My eyes fly open, and I see his blue eyes in the mirror.

  Dante

  It was my presence that aroused her, so it’s up to me to help her, right?

  Silver eyes meet mine in the mirror. She stares at me as if she can see into my soul. Maybe she can see who I really am and why I am here?

  And now I am getting fanciful.

  She’s only a human I happened to spot while on this mission to Moscow. Except as I had passed this bar at the edge of Red Square, I had caught the scent of orange blossoms and pepper, a spoor so irresistible that I had stepped into the bar. One look at her, and I had to have her. Just the kind of man I am. I want something, I take it. Especially curvy sprites with soft skin, and an arousal that bleeds into the air, seducing me to get closer, closer.