Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
“Would you like me to wash it for you?” I ask, tracing her spine with my fingertips.
She nods, her arms tightening around me a fraction. I slide my hand around her neck and tip her head higher with my thumb on her jaw until the water once again drenches her hair from the roots to the ends. Her eyes shut, and her palms glide down my chest, pressing against it to balance herself as she gives in to my manipulations of her body.
When her hair is thoroughly soaked, I spin her by her shoulders and grab her shampoo, squeezing a generous amount into my hands and lathering it between my palms. Her hair is soft underneath my hands even when wet, and I massage the suds into her scalp, applying gentle pressure everywhere with my fingertips.
With each circular motion of my fingers, Cassandra’s body releases more tension, until she’s as soft as warm clay. Her hands reach behind her and caress the sides of my ass and thighs, her neck and chest arching.
I hold in a groan at the way her breasts push forward, presenting themselves to my gaze, and focus instead on the sweet connection I feel from her soft touches on my legs as she seeks reassurance from my presence and our intimacy. I step closer, pursuing that deeper intimacy as well, searching for something stronger than the desperate need to claim and to own her.
There’s something inexplicably remarkable about sharing this moment with her. It’s reminiscent of the quiet in the early mornings when I run up to the outcrop on the side of the mountain and watch the pack lands wake up—when the sky is pink, the air is crisp, and there are still drops of dew left on the fauna of the forest. She is becoming my solace, my eye in the storm of life.
She’s becoming my everything.
I swallow and brush her soapy hair to one side, bending to kiss her neck. I linger there, breathing in her scent and squeezing her shoulder. “You can rinse your hair,” I say, my lips moving against her skin, but I don’t leave her neck.
I can’t. I can’t bring myself to. The bare, exposed skin is too tempting. It beckons me, ensnaring my attention.
She spins, though, forcing me to back up enough to let her keep her footing so she can remove the shampoo from her hair. As she rinses, I grab my shower gel and washcloth and wash myself, keeping my eyes and mind off her delicious body and the water and suds that trace over every subtle curve.
And off of her graceful, arched, beautifully displayed neck.
A delicate hand takes the shower gel from the shelf, and I whip my head around, my brow raised as Cassandra squeezes a large dollop into her green washcloth. She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, a blush spreading across her cheeks and a sheepish smile on her face. “What? It smells good,” she says with a one-shouldered shrug. “I want to smell like you.”
My wolf spins in a circle in my head, preening and prancing like a peacock, and my chest maybe puffs up a little as well. “I want you to smell like me too,” I reply as I drag my gaze down her body, watching the path of her hands as she washes herself.
“I know a better way to make that happen,” I add, stepping under the water and returning my eyes to hers.
I reach for her, ready to follow that path with my hands instead of my eyes, to take over the cleansing of her skin and to leave my scent inside her pussy and on her body, but she backs away a step, shaking her head. “Eyes only.”
“But—“
“Wesley is here,” she says, just as the doorbell rings.
“You saw him?” I ask, and she nods. “Why didn’t he mindlink me?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I groan and drag my hand over my face. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know that either,” she says, shaking her head as she continues to wash her body.
“Well, he can go back home. I’m busy.” She arches a brow at me. “I am.”
“You don’t want him to think you’re shirking your duties, do you?”
I rest my hands on my hips, the water sluicing down my body and taking the soap with it. “Right now, you are my duty. And I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”
She nods her chin at the bathroom door. “Just go talk to him. I’m sure he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. And I will be fine without you for a few minutes while you do.”
I growl, then spin away from her and march out of the shower. “Fine. But I want you in my T-shirt and in that bed”—I point towards my bedroom as I yank my towel off the rack and dry my body—“when I come back up here. Understood?”
Her irises swirl with her lycan, and she nods her agreement. The fogged glass of my shower blocks most of her body from my view, but she steps under the water to rinse herself, and I can imagine the path the suds take as they disappear from her body.
I’m so tempted to tell Wes to fuck off and jump back in there with her.
So tempted.
Instead, I rush out of the bathroom, biting my fist to hold back the building groan of sexual and emotional frustration so I can dress and talk to my alpha.
NOLAN
My front door opens on its own before I get halfway down the stairs. I pause and frown, then speed up my descent, taking the steps two at a time to reach the first floor as I tug a black hoodie on. My heart skips a beat in my chest, worry threatening to overtake me. Wesley isn’t the type to let himself into my house, so I can only imagine it is something urgent if he is.
As soon as I reach the entry, though, my mom’s voice and Wesley’s float towards me from the propped open door.
“Thank you, Alpha Wesley,” my mom says as she walks into my house, arms full of grocery bags.
I completely forgot that it’s Saturday.
“You’re welcome,” Wesley replies with a smile, entering behind her and closing the door. “And you don’t need to call me by my title, Fiona, since I’m pretty sure you changed my diapers when I was a baby.”
“Diapers or no, you’re still my alpha, and I will give you the respect you deserve.” She spins, and her hazel eyes that match mine light up when she sees me. “Nolie!”
I avoid Wes’s teasing eyes as I step forward and give her a kiss on the cheek, grabbing a bag from her arms. “Hi, Mom,” I say. “Wes,” I add, nodding at him over my mom’s shoulder.
“Let me help you with some of those, as well.” Wesley darts forward and snatches two bags from her other arm before she can make her way into my kitchen.
“Fine, fine. But I’m putting everything away myself.”
She waves us away after I grab the last two bags from her and then follows us into the kitchen. Wesley and I set everything on the counter and begin removing the items from the reusable bags, but my mom shoos us off. “I said I would do that part myself!”
I wince, and Wes ducks his head, backing up and leaning against the stove with his arms crossed, looking very much like a scolded pup. I hold in my laugh and lean against the counter next to my mom, watching her as she putters around my kitchen, restocking my pantry and my fridge.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?