fate of the alpha - episode 2 (10 page)

Filled with a burst of moon drunk energy, Ainsley bounded into the trees to catch her leader. When she caught up to Ophelia, perhaps she would nip playfully at her heels to see what would happen.

Ophelia liked her, it was easy to know that when Ainsley was a wolf. She could almost taste the tomato-red smell of Ophelia’s pleasure at teaching her.

CHAPTER 15

G
race stood before Julian, trembling with desire.

Why had he stopped kissing her?

She would have liked to kiss him all night, maybe even all year.

He’d said he wanted her. Badly. The memory of his words washed over her, warming her from the inside. She searched his blue eyes for a clue about what she had done wrong.

“That business with the egg,” he demanded. “Was that enough?”

His words didn’t even make sense. What business?

Oh.

“No, that wasn’t enough,” she whispered.

The magic wasn’t the source of her desire.

She didn’t know exactly why she wanted him - needed him. She had never felt this way about anyone before. It couldn’t be love, because she didn’t know him, and what she did know, she mostly didn’t like. But it sure felt the way love was supposed to feel.

“Good girl,” he said again.

Every cell in her body bubbled over with joy, though she was a strong woman, and had never wanted anyone to call her ‘good girl’ before.

“Do you have another bedroom?” he asked.

She ought to have thought he was presumptuous, asking a question like that when they were only kissing and she was supposed to be making pancakes. Instead she felt sweet relief.

Until she remembered that her bed was full of canines.

“No, that’s the only one,” she replied.

He smiled and she figured he must have heard the regret in her voice.

“Come on,” he told her, “I have an idea!”

He took her hand and led her into the living room.

Gazing at the sofa, he muttered, “
Disponat vobis
.”

The sofa unfurled like it was stretching after a long nap. Branches grew out of its back, and before Grace’s eyes it morphed into a bed with a railing made of living trees.

“
Succendunt ignem
,” he said to the fireplace.

To Grace’s wonder, a small fire appeared in it. She stepped forward to look at it. The flames danced merrily, and the air in the room was already getting toasty.

She sensed him moving behind her, then felt his hand on her arm and his warm breath in her ear.

“Is this okay? I’ll turn it back into a sofa in the morning.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told him.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, and ran his hand down her arm. Her skin tingled in its wake.

He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her that way for a long time as they stood together, gazing into the magic fire.

Julian slid one hand up her chest to curl around her neck. His hand was warm and though the position was unusual, Grace didn’t feel threatened. She could feel her own pulse against his hand. Or maybe it was his pulse.

“You’re brave and you’re beautiful. And you have such incredible restraint. I’m going to enjoy stripping that away from you, my love,” he whispered. And though his words were smooth, his voice was harsh with desire.

The hair on the back of Grace’s neck lifted and she stopped breathing.

Since she was a teenager, she had tormented herself about why boys never made her feel anything. Was she the ice queen the boys called her?

Then she’d had the magic. Its side effects made her realize that, yes, she did like boys. Just not any of the ones she’d met - not without the magic, at least.

In college she’d had what looked like a serious boyfriend. They were exclusive, she lost her virginity to him, they shared interests. But she wasn’t really shattered when he broke up with her after spring break of their senior year. He was going to medical school and she was headed back to Tarker’s Hollow.

Landon was another guy who seemed like a good choice. He was nice and about her age, and he had an interesting job. But even after the magic induced session they’d had, she was left feeling nothing.

And now here she was with Julian. A man she had never really trusted. A man who insulted her at every turn.

His hand was literally wrapped around her neck.

She should feel scared, she should feel offended, she should feel creeped out, or at the very least annoyed.

Instead she felt gloriously alive.

Time seemed to slow down as Julian pressed the fingers of his left hand to her throat and slid his right hand up to caress her belly.

“So tense, my angel, so tight. I know what you need,” he whispered.

Grace closed her eyes and tried not to whimper. The anticipation wasn’t building, it was rocketing, exploding. Her sex was suddenly too swollen, her nipples too hard. Out of nowhere she was on the edge of desperation. And she feared his touch as much as she hungered for it.

“Easy, darling.”

He pulled his hand across her midriff and slid it behind her. Then she felt his bladed hand slide between her buttocks, the tips of his fingers barely touching her sex from behind.

She tried not to mortify herself by angling against him, but it took all her control and she moaned softly.

Instantly, his hand tightened on her throat.

“Good girl,” he whispered again.

She felt his hand leave her posterior and nearly sighed in relief. But then he slipped his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt.

With a languidness that was almost unbearable, he splayed his hand across her abdomen. His skin was warm and dry against hers and she felt her insides clench.

His other hand released her neck, but she could still feel it there, its afterimage like a collar.

Julian turned her to face him. His lip turned up at one corner, another sign of his control - she was drowning in need and he was amused. He lifted her shirt over her head like she was a child.

For once, she had no dread about her body. She knew without looking that she was exactly right for him. So she stood proudly, offering what she had.

His sigh of delight told her he was pleased. She smiled up at him and his nostrils flared.

“Turn around,” he said gently.

She obeyed immediately and felt his warm hands unhooking her bra, smoothing the straps down her arms.

He nuzzled her neck from behind, sending tingles from her scalp to the tips of her toes.

His hands traveled down her body, slipping the tiny lace bra from around her wrists and then further still, pushing down the yoga pants to reveal the strip of lace that was the last thing covering Grace.

She shivered, waiting for him to touch her again.

“Come, darling,” he said, taking her hand. He led her to the bed.

It was both her sofa and not her sofa. The trees seemed so real, she wanted to touch the bark. They looked like real white birches. She tried hard not to ask how he had done it.

“Lie down,” he said softly.

She crawled forward and heard his breathing speed up at the sight of her.

When she reached the head of the bed, she let her fingers run along the railing of saplings. They were rough and real as far as she could tell.

Amazing.

She lay on her back and looked up at him - still fully clothed, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, grey cords tight to his hips. He studied her calmly, but his eyes were hazy with lust. She wondered frantically when he would take his clothes off.

“Beautiful girl,” he breathed. “Can you lie still for me?”

Her body burned in response. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and struggled to be still.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Do you want this, Grace?”

“Yes,” she whispered without having to think about it.

“You did magic tonight,” he said.

“But--”

“I’m not going to make love to you. Not until I know it’s what you want.”

Grace tried to tell herself she was crushed only because her body was yearning for him. But it was her heart that was aching. She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

“However, I can’t leave you like this either,” he continued.

Grace opened her eyes but kept her face averted. She was looking into the fire and she mentally begged it to make him change his mind.

Suddenly, there was warm heat on her breast. She turned and saw that he was nuzzling her, mouthing her without latching on. Her nipple stiffened to the point of pain before he snaked his tongue out to caress it.

She tossed her head back and looked into the branches of the trees, unable to watch him without losing control.

As soon as she had acclimated to the teasing sensation on one breast, his hand was on the other. The contrast between his warm, wet mouth and cool, dry hand made her feel almost deranged with desire.

When he raked his teeth against her nipple, she cried out and wantonly arched her back, pressing herself closer to his mouth.

“Hush, angel,” he soothed her, breaking all contact with her breasts and stroking her head.

He seemed to lose himself as soon as he touched her hair. He pressed close to her, and she felt the heat of his erection against her thigh as he buried his face in a pile of her hair.

Tentatively, she reached out with trembling fingers to caress him through his cords. He froze and she could feel the effort it took him not to crush himself against her hand. The same discipline she was showing right now, by not lifting her hips up and begging him to take her.

After only a few seconds, he pulled her hand away.

“I told you ‘no’,” he whispered darkly. “And now you’re going to be punished.”

Grace couldn’t explain the thrill that coursed through her at those words. It was an outrageous thing to say. Unless he was kidding. But she knew he wasn’t.

“Wrap your hands around that tree,” he indicated the sapling that was the center of the living rail.

She grasped the trunk of the tree between her hands.

“No, wrap your wrists around it, cross them,” he said.

She scooted up on the bed and stretched her hands over her head until they met on the other side of the tree. His eyes blazed the brilliant blue color of his magic and something tickled her wrists. The branches of the headboard shifted, knitting themselves together around her hands until she couldn’t withdraw them.

Her heart raced like a dear darting through the forest. She was helpless before him. But it was okay. She trusted Julian.

Didn’t she?

“Good girl. Now be still,” he admonished her.

He tugged her panties over her hips and slipped them down over her ankles. She wanted to look, but she couldn’t lift her head very far with her wrists bound by the branches. She had to settle for a view of her ceiling, and the top of Julian’s head.

He spread her legs wide. Instinctively, she wanted to press them shut again. She managed to stay open for him, hoping he would touch her.

“Mmm,” he sighed, parting her with his hands.

The cool air of the room on her clitoris made her draw in a quick breath. Moisture beaded on her sex as she opened and swelled for Julian, begging wordlessly for his touch.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his finger pressing against her opening briefly, then sliding in.

The sensation was incredible. Grace had never been so worked up before. She wanted to sob her relief and scream her frustration all at the same time. Her insides convulsed on his finger and he cursed again, this time into the muscle of her inner thigh.

In spite of herself and what she had promised, she rocked her hips, trying to find friction.

He clamped his hand down on her, preventing her from moving.

Please don’t stop, please don’t stop
she begged in her mind.

His tongue found her clitoris and she writhed under his weight. She burned and tingled simultaneously. Deep inside Grace, another sensation twisted and rolled, gathering strength.

Julian moved his finger inside her, stretching it upward to knead a place she hadn’t known existed.

The brand new sensation exploded inside her, radiating waves of pleasure. Her center clenched down hard on his finger as his tongue teased and suckled her over the edge into the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.

Quickly, Julian replaced his mouth with his other hand, and leaned back to look at her. She still convulsed on both his hands. A tiny bit of self-consciousness tugged at her, but the expression of naked need in his eyes was enough to send her over the edge again, before she’d even come down from the first wave. By then she didn’t care about anything anymore.

At last, the wave subsided. As if on cue, the branches released their grip, freeing her hands. How silly she must have looked. She laughed and curled her body up self-consciously.

“No,” he said darkly. “Don’t hide from me.”

She smiled and rolled onto her knees, reaching for him, wanting to show him a tenth of the pleasure he had given her.

“I said, no,” he said, but the expression on his face told her he was in pain with desire.

“Let me help you, please, Julian,” she whispered, this time keeping her hands at her sides.

His expression softened.

“I won’t make love to you tonight, Grace, but we can do anything else that you want.”

“Please, let me touch you,” she heard herself say. She had never expected to hear herself beg in bed. Let alone beg to do what she hoped he would let her do.

He smiled and lay back on the bed, stretching his arms back to cradle his head casually.

Grace leaned down to do what she had though about since the day she had met him. Very gently, unbuttoned his white Oxford.

He sighed at her gentle touch, but didn’t move.

She pushed the shirt to the sides to reveal the light muscles of his bare chest. She stopped to nuzzle him, inhaling his clean scent. Then, reaching downward, she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his cords.

The silk boxers underneath his pants did little to hide his bulging erection. Grace allowed her fingers to trace the shape of its head through the thin fabric.

Julian let out a ragged sigh, but didn’t move.