“You didn’t have anyone guarding me? Didn’t you think I’d run?”
Bumping my shoulder into the door at the same time as I turn to her, I steal a moment to take in Zoe’s image. My first impression of her from all those months ago defines my view of this woman chosen to be mine. No matter how hard I try to see her differently, the image of her porcelain-white skin stitched together with the sloppy black stitches she sewed into herself remains.
She’s been cracked into a million pieces—held together by her own grit—but she’s not shattered.
“Didn’t you think I’d run?” Zoe repeats.
“It crossed my mind.” I step backward, drawing her forward. Then I drop my hands, letting her stand on her own. “But ownership goes both ways.”
“Ownership?”
“Yes.” I kick the door closed, and the automatic lock clicks, blocking out everyone who doesn’t know the code. And since Ilan, the night manager and part-time assassin for Shifter Affairs watched me hustle Zoe back here, nobody will be disturbing us tonight.
Zoe’s smirk matches her unbelieving grunt. “You’re talking about me owning…you?”
I kick off my loafers, the expensive leather shoes hitting the wall with a thump, then reach for my belt. Zoe’s widened eyes stop me. The realization of my intent for us tonight is there in her shocked yet interested gaze. Best damn sight I’ve seen all night.
“Yes.” I unbuckle the belt and drop my hands without pulling the leather free or unbuttoning my pants. “That’s exactly what I’m referring to.”
Zoe’s heated perusal of my body lingers on my chest, right where the pet tag she gave me rests against my skin. There’s no way she can see it. The thick cotton dress shirt isn’t see-through. When I checked earlier, the metal edges didn’t leave a noticeable impression either. After a moment, she continues her visual inspection, touching on my stomach, my waist, my groin and then zeroes in on my inner thigh. The cock resting against my leg lengthens and thickens under her focused intensity.
Curling my fingers, I grip my pants legs, tightening and stretching the material and drawing attention to the fact a thin layer of cloth contains me—both my sexuality and my primitiveness. My teasing serves a warning I failed to make her understand yesterday. I’m not human. And I won’t act like one, not in any aspect of our relationship.
“Jesus Chr—” Zoe covers her mouth.
With a firm tug, I pull my top from my pants, the shirttails hanging far enough to hide part of my arousal, not all. The outline of my dick’s head pokes out from under the wrinkled white dress shirt, and Zoe’s attentive stare on that small section stirs my restrained erection, thickening it to the point of pain.
On a shaky exhale, Zoe eases her hand from her mouth and drags the tip of her tongue along her lower lip. She doesn’t speak, though. At least not in words. The look of hazed lust in her eyes and the scent of her excitement reaches me, a tantalizing lure I’d give in to if I didn’t have a specific goal for tonight.
I turn my back on the female I need to ensnare and sit on the leather couch with my legs spread wide enough to relieve the worst of the pressure on my strained erection. “And as I said, ownership goes both ways.”
With her hands on her hips, Zoe narrows her eyes at me. “That is such a load of bullshit, Kade Alexander. You brought me back here for sex.”
“If I brought you back here for sex, I’d be inside you already, and you’d be coming over my dick.” Placing my hands on my thighs, I lean forward. “I’m here to correct the mistake I made last night.”
“The mighty alpha made a mistake with me?” Zoe shakes her head on a small snort. “That’s about as believable as you not wanting sex.”
“I never said I didn’t want to get inside you tonight.” I lower my chin and let my needs show in my expression. Her sharp inhale assures me she understands my hunger and my restraint in not giving in to it. “But whether we end up fucking is all on you and whether you’re woman enough to own up to your actions.”
Back ramrod straight, Zoe loosely fists her hands and steps forward. “Whether I’m woman enough? What exactly are you implying?”
With a cocky grin on my face, I stretch an arm along the back of the couch. “I thought I made that clear the first night you decided to sneak back home like a coward without seeking me out. That you’re still an impulsive brat who throws temper tantrums.”
“Why you…” Zoe storms forward.
The second she raises her hand, I snatch her wrist and jerk her close, tumbling her between my legs. With my other hand on her waist, I pull her flush to me. She arches back—an attempt to get free. I nip her chin, tearing a gasp from her, but the small bite focuses her gaze on me, her lips inches away from mine. “Does the truth hurt?”
“You know nothing about me. Why I act the way I do. What I’m running from. How I need to live my life to guarantee I wake up another day. So don’t you dare get on your high horse and give me shit. You’re nothing to me.”
“Other than the man who owns your soul.”
A flash of panic narrows her pupils. She pushes against my chest with her free hand, putting some space between us but not escaping. My firm hold on her waist and wrist keeps her right where I want her.
She shakes her head. “I am not your true mate. I don’t know where you got that crazy idea. Maybe because I smell like you. Or that I ran from you. Or that you think I’m playing hard to get or something. It’s not true, though. I am not your destined soul mate or whatever it is you think I am. What we did last night… It was fucking. Nothing more. We can’t ever be more. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression or triggered your instincts somehow. I didn’t mean to.”
Her rambling statement holds the same anxious tone she used last night right before driving off. “Ownership goes both ways, and it’s my duty to educate you as to your responsibilities to me.”
“I don’t own you. I—”
My tongue in her mouth stops her foolish words. Her flavor hits me…drugs me. Groaning, I kiss my true mate, deeply and completely until dizziness grips me and tempts me to reach for our connection. Despite the darkness in Zoe’s soul, I crave her. More than that, I need her. The shadows she holds inside her can act as my shield, my cloak, the wall that blocks the world out and lets me bask in the one I share here with Zoe.
Releasing my tight hold on her, I stroke my hands over her body, from her neck to her ass and pull her so close, her every breath is one I feel along my chest.
With a whimper, Zoe straddles me, her knees pressing my legs together and her groin rocking against mine. Her squeezing motion strangles my dick and rubs the material of my pants along the length. Each of her forward thrusts pulls the fabric of my pants over the head of my dick. Energy skips down the shaft to my balls and up my spine until my body aches with contained need.
The compulsion to fuck—to ease the pressure in my balls—is the kind of drive that can overpower a man, turning him into a beast. For me, the fall to my primitive side is shorter and more satisfying.
I slip a hand between our bodies. Zoe’s fingers are already there. She flicks my hand back and undoes the button holding my pants closed, then drags the zipper down. All the while, I kiss her, devouring her with an intensity that doesn’t allow for thought or doubt. There’s only need.
Zoe slips her hand into my pants and traces the crease between where my balls are crushed by my pants to where my shaft is bent at an odd angle and trapped by the leg of my pants. Then she strokes the base of my dick, and her mewling slips through me, tearing a rough sound from me. But it’s the pressure of her fingers sliding over my contained length that pulls my mouth from hers on a curse.
I drop my hands, letting them hit the couch cushions as pain chokes me, drowning me with a pleasure I can’t say I enjoy, but it’s one I can’t bring myself to stop either. There’s an anticipation with the building agony, a promise of relief that’ll take me to heaven.
With a firm press of her thighs, Zoe squeezes my legs
together, compressing my balls even more. I tip my head back, my eyes threatening to roll back in my head, and groan Zoe’s name. Angelic, sweet, adoring—my true mate’s name doesn’t match the woman working my body with a level of control we both know I’m allowing.
The caress of soft lips down my throat draws my attention from where Zoe’s nails are dragging over my cock, inching toward the sensitive head. Her warm breath leaves a trail of fire. The burning spreads outward, down my limbs to my fingers and toes. Every inch of me screams for her touch.
“You’re addicting, Kade.” Zoe groans the words. “A habit…a bad habit.”
And then she’s working her way down my body, licking and nipping along my collarbone until my shirt stops her exploration. She skims her open mouth to the base of my neck. With a swirl and lick, she distracts me from where the fingers of her free hand are slipping the buttons of my shirt free. After the third button, however, she jerks the material, popping the remaining buttons and exposing my chest.
On a reverse stroke, she drags her nails over my constrained dick, then abandons my erection and slides both her hands over my stomach, her fingers tracing the ridges of my abs, before slipping around my waist and pushing my shirt back. The sleeves slide down my arms, only the press of my back to the couch holding the material up.
More kisses, more gliding strokes, and my heart pounds hard enough to escape my chest. Still, I keep my hands loose at my sides and the bestial side of my persona in check. Zoe’s willing touch is not enough. Her lust doesn’t push me over either. There’s only one thing that’ll snap my control. She’ll give it to me too. My true mate won’t be able to resist.
Power feels too good, especially coming from a man who demands the submission of others. She’ll recognize that. She’ll recognize what this moment is.
A king only bows down to his queen.
Zoe’s wandering touch pauses at the edge of the chain hanging around my neck. She curls her fingers around the metal and eases back to look into my face. For a long moment, she stares at me, not at the gift she gave me, but the realization of what’s attached to the chain is there in her eyes. Too bad pleasure or happiness isn’t reflected in her gaze. The regret growing there is the kind that would destroy most men, inflicting them with foolishness and embarrassment.
I hold my true mate’s gaze, letting my confidence show.
With a raw curse on her lips, Zoe cradles the metal tag. For an endless moment, she stares at the inscription, the one she chose for the gift she gave me—a gag gift, maybe, but still a gift.
“Do you remember what you said when you gave this to me?” For me, the memory is all too clear.
“Yes.”
“Do you?” Zoe looks up at my questioning tone. “Do you really remember?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“You gave this to me because you didn’t want to lose me.” Lowering my voice, I lure Zoe closer until her breath mixes with mine. “Did you lie?” I hold her gaze while my smirk grows. “Or can’t you handle me?”
“Damn you!” The words are ripped from her soul. The pain in her voice is real, along with the tears in her eyes. She tugs on the chain, the metal biting into my neck but not snapping, then flings the pet tag against my chest, smacking the metal’s edge into my collarbone.
“Damn you, Kade! Damn you.” Zoe digs her nails into my shoulders and pulls me against her, our mouths touching, her voice softening. “Damn you.”
And then her tongue is sliding against mine, and she’s tugging my trapped shirt down. Her hands explore me, and the drag of her nails over my back pushes me closer to the edge. My claws slip free. I curl my fingers, piercing the cushion, and all the while, the pet tag resting against my skin burns.
I swallow Zoe’s every groan and let the pressure within me build. My restraint stretches and the compulsion to take this moment from Zoe grows until I’m choking with the need to flip our positions. An alpha is not meant to submit. A true mate, however, is compelled to be what his other half needs.
And Zoe is starving.
She captures my lower lip, biting until chocolate-flavored blood slides down my throat. On a hiccupping sob, she sucks on the cut she made. Her pleasured moan jacks up my desire. I lift my hips, pushing my groin to hers and strangling my trapped erection in the process. Zoe swipes her tongue along the inside of my lower lip once more, then works her way down my chest, licking and nipping at my skin, not enough to bleed me, but leaving small red marks that fade almost instantly.
At my pants, she slips her fingers between my groin and the material covering my hips. With a small push, she shows me exactly what she wants. I lift my ass, and she pulls my pants down, then drags them lower until my dick is free of the material strangling it.
My relieved groan turns into a curse. Zoe’s name is blended into the expletive. Her fisted grip over my dick chokes me, tightening my chest on a fresh burst of pleasured pain.
The wet swipe of her tongue over the head jerks me back, pushing the discomfort aside and centering everything on the woman kneeling on the floor.
Zoe shoves her shoulder against one of my knees, then the other, urging me to open for her. I widen my legs, giving her the space she needs and the control over me. Only one woman deserves this—to treat me as she pleases.
My queen.
“Zoe.” The growl to my voice makes my true mate’s name sound as primitive as I am in this moment—a shifter on the edge on humanity. And perhaps love.
“I can’t even swallow this.” Zoe mutters the words before opening her mouth and wrapping her lips around my shaft.
With her head bent over me and the strands of her hair teasing my groin, Zoe worships me, the slow swirling swipes of her tongue wetting and heating the head of my dick. My breaths deepen with each lick while Zoe skims the back of her hand over the erect length. Her lips follow the path of her hand, kissing my dick on a downward path to my balls. Another swirl and lick at the base, and I lift my hips, sliding my cock against Zoe’s face and into her hair. Tingles spread, the strands of her hair dragging over the sensitive tip.
My curse is blended into a shaky sound—half anticipation, half pleasure. I drop my head against the back of the couch and look down the length of my body at my female, and Zoe raises her gaze to mine without taking her mouth from my dick. With her focus on me, she drags her flattened tongue upward, from the crease between my balls and shaft to the ridge around the head. Wetness glistens on my dick, on Zoe’s lips, on the head. She eases her mouth away, her plump, parted lips a tempting invitation.
“Look at me.” I tip my chin toward her and the effect she has on me. “What you do to me.”
Zoe glances at where my thick length stands for her. Liquid wells at the tip and spills over, a creamy drop sliding over the swollen head. With the side of her finger, she spreads my precum, rolling her finger in the wetness before lifting her hand to her mouth. Her eyelids lower as she sucks on her finger. She pulls it free, and a hazed veil of lust slips over her, pulling back her reservations or maybe even her hold on humanity, but the woman between my legs no longer wants to explore me.
She wants to devour me.
“Swallow me.” My voice is growled, dark and ominous. “All of me. I want your lips on my balls. Your throat squeezing me. Now, Zoe. I want it now.”
My command hangs between us, but I don’t lift my hips, pushing my dick closer to her mouth. I don’t grab the back of her head and direct her to where my dick aches. I don’t so much as move my hands from where my claws are embedded in the cushions.
I wait on my queen.
Zoe wets her lips as she leans closer. Her nose brushes along my length. The tip of her tongue touches the crease where shaft meets balls. And the slow drag of her tongue up my erection tears a huffing sound from my throat. The animalistic sound doesn’t faze my woman. She bends over me and swirls her flattened tongue around the head, her hair arcing in a fluid wave around her, around me. Hot air bathes the head of my dick. And then warmth. Tightne
ss.
I tip my head back on a groan as she swallows me, engulfing me in a rhythmic sucking that inches her lips down my length and cushions my hardness with a soft, tight glove. A curse falls from my lips. My chest heaves.
“Zoe.” Her name is dragged from some part of me I never knew existed. It’s not sweet, not respectful, not endearing. It’s something else. Something dark. “More. Fucking give me more.”
My true mate groans, and the movement of her throat dances waves along my length. Another noise slips from my throat. It’s not human, not even something I’ve ever heard come from me. The press of Zoe’s soft lips to my balls scatters the thought over what my true mate has unleashed within me.
A cascade of Zoe’s hair hides the sight of her loving me. The arching of her back and the tendons standing out on her delicate hands tell me her attention isn’t easily given. But she’s giving me what I need…what I demanded.
I sweep a section of her hair aside. With her lips stretched wide around my dick, her nostrils flaring, her throat filled, and rapture mixed with pain painted on her face, Zoe peeks at me. A single glance, that’s all, but it’s enough to set my path.
Carefully, I ease a finger between her lips and my balls, then I add another and another forcing Zoe to relax her strangling hold on my cock. Just as slowly as she swallowed me, I push her mouth off. She holds on to the head with her pursed lips. Her kiss to the tip of my penis rocks me. My exhale blends with another erotic curse, and then I cup her face and draw her to my mouth.
“Beautiful.” I pant, breathing hard. “Come here.”
Zoe’s hands shake, along with her arms, but she links her fingers behind my neck and opens for my kiss. Slow at first, I curl my tongue along hers, my saliva healing any of the discomfort her show of devotion and obedience caused her. The taste of my cum on her lips—in her mouth—wipes my gentleness away, however. While she coaxed some of my seed out, my dick still stands high. My balls hurt. And my soul aches.
With an arm around Zoe’s waist, I stand, lifting her while still twining our tongues in a deep back-and-forth exploration. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I kick away my pants, stumbling for a moment, before ripping Zoe away from me, turning her, and dropping her on the couch. She gasps, her hair sweeping in an arc as she looks over her shoulder but grabs onto the back cushion as I tug on her jeans, jerking them off her body. She doesn’t help. Doesn’t resist. She studies me.
Possessed by the Alpha Page 17
