Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
“I need to get out of here. Please.”
There is a flicker of awareness from her end of our link, and I feel her eyes on Nolan and me. “Wesley,” she says, her voice a little louder than her usual volume, “I think I’m ready to turn in for the night.”
He replies to her, but I don’t listen to what he says. Instead, I shoot off one more mindlink to Haven before closing the connection.
“Thank you.”
Several seconds pass. I detect Haven’s light, dainty steps traveling towards an exit underneath the music and Wesley’s heavier, dominating footfalls moving in time with hers. Another few moments, and Nolan sweeps me out of the ballroom, having danced us to the edge of the crowd without me realizing it.
The door clicks shut behind us, and everything is a blur as Nolan guides me into a back stairwell. I gulp down air and rush to the railing, gripping it as tight as I can until my knuckles turn white. Pebbles of misery rain down on me from all sides, leaving pockmarks on my heart and bringing tears to my eyes, and I bite my lip against the pain tearing through me.
I can’t get air in fast enough. My lungs won’t fill.
I claw at the back of my dress, grappling with the buttons but unable to get the proper leverage to undo them. “Nolan—“
“I’ve got it,” he murmurs.
The protective heat of his body covers mine, and he slides my ponytail over my shoulder and unbuttons my bodice with deft fingers, tracing my spine as he works his way down. His face hovers near my neck, his breath teasing my skin. The brush of his nose, the warmth of his presence, and the caress of his fingers all give me something to focus on other than the sheer disappointment shadowing my soul.
When he undoes every button, his hands glide up my back to my shoulders, gripping them in each hand as he kisses my nape, stepping closer so his chest presses into my back. “Breathe, Daisy,” he says, inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm. I close my mouth and inhale through my nose, then blow the air out through my lips, mimicking the tempo he sets. “That’s it. I’m here. I’m with you.”
An arm wraps around my waist, and he sways with the beat of our breaths. A dance of compassion to soothe the aching, gaping wound in my soul. Nolan is stalwart and calm behind me, easing my tension and suffering. His lips stay on my neck, pressing soft kisses there occasionally as he gives me as much time as I need to lessen my pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” he asks once my harsh breaths taper, giving me a squeeze.
I shrug and swipe away a tear from my eyelashes. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. ‘No bond of fate’ and all that.” He spins me around and cups my cheek, bringing my gaze to his. “I guess I thought maybe they were wrong. I was hoping they were wrong. Or that maybe something changed. I…” I lick my lips and close my eyes, leaning my face against his palm. “I wanted you to be my mate.”
My heart clenches. It’s not the lack of a mate bond, but the lack of a mate bond with him that has me so distraught. The hope was always there, a tiny blossom in the cracks of my soul, but it grew into a flowering vine in the light of his attention and his adoration. “I wanted you to be my mate,” I repeat, opening my eyes to meet his.
His gaze softens, and his other hand joins his first on my face. “I already told you, I don’t need the mate bond. Fuck, I don’t even want the mate bond. All I need is you. We will make our own bond, Cassandra.”
Our own bond. Our own path. A perfectly imperfect journey to match our perfectly imperfect souls.
I stare at him, at the utter certainty in his eyes, and I make a split-second decision. I draw in a breath, my shaking hands pressing against the swarm of butterflies rising in my stomach. “Mark me.”
His entire body tenses. Every muscle tightens. My words trigger him to act, but he lies in wait. He’s a cobra ready to strike, or a tiger ready to pounce, or a racehorse waiting for the signal to run. He blinks, and his fingers dig into my cheeks as he holds himself back from me. “What?”
My gaze darts between his darkening eyes. “Mark me, Nolan. Here. Tonight. Right now.”
He exhales, a long, controlled breath blown out from between his lips, and he shakes his head. “But the ceremony—“
“We can still do the ceremony. We’ll just mark each other again. And I know you’ve been struggling.” I cover his hands on my face with mine. “If I’m marked, it will calm you and your wolf.”
He shakes his head once more and steps closer to me, trapping me in the corner. “I can’t take that special moment away from you. I want to give you your dream.”
I smile at him and circle his wrists, removing his hands from my face and wrapping them around my waist. “It will be special no matter what, because it’s you, Nolan. And you’ve already given me so much.” I cover his heart with my palm. “Let me give you this.”
He ducks his face, and our foreheads meet, his fingers splaying across my back as he holds me close. “You’ve given me more than you realize, Cassandra.” He closes his eyes for a breath, and when he reopens them, he stares at my neck, at the place where he’ll place his mark. “Are you sure this is what you want? Because if it isn’t, I won’t be able to stop once we start. You can’t change your mind halfway through.”
I nod and press my hand harder into his chest, showing him my urgency and my determination. “Yes, Nolan. Mark me. Make me yours.”
He growls and moves his face to my neck, nipping my marking spot and sending a shiver of desire through my body. “You make it so difficult to refuse you.”
“Then don’t refuse.”
His dark chuckle sends another thrill through me, and his grip tightens. “I won’t. But. I have one condition.”
He pauses his teasing of my neck, his entire body freezing except for his breaths. The warm air on my marking spot is a new kind of torture, as the anticipation of his teeth piercing my flesh there while his dick is deep inside me builds. “What’s your condition?” I ask, my chest heaving and my voice no more than a whispered sigh.
He places a small kiss on my marking spot that has my knees shaking and my clit throbbing, and he smiles against my skin. “You can’t mark me back until our ceremony in Greece. That way, we can still complete our bond in the temple, the way you’ve always wanted.”
His hands wander to the open back of my bodice, tracing up and down the buttons he opened when I couldn’t breathe, and I can’t catch my breath again, although it’s for an entirely different reason this time. “I don’t think I can—“
“You can and you will,” he insists, his deep voice tinted with a command I can’t ignore.
I bite my lip, my neck arching in reaction to his order, and I feel for my lycan in my mind, gauging her reaction to being told we can’t mark him back tonight. But she is oddly at peace with the idea. The promise of the ceremony, his desire to create my dream for me, is enough for her.
I sigh and slide my hands inside Nolan’s half buttoned black shirt. “I love you, Nolan.”
He groans and attacks my neck again with a heated fervor that warms my body. Liquid gold floods my veins, replacing my blood. It’s sensuous and heady, like a sweet mulled wine or fruit dipped in fresh honey.
“Mine,” he growls against my skin, sliding my dress down my arms.
“Yours,” I agree, nodding as he removes my dress from my upper body.
His muscles coil as my breasts come into view, and he groans again, his hands cupping them. My spine curves, pushing them further into his grasp, and I fight with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers already trembling with the unmatched pleasure he wrings from my body.
Our lips meet as I undo the last button on his shirt, and he takes it off, his muscles rippling and flexing as he rips his arms from the sleeves and tosses it aside. I crouch down, undoing his pants and kissing and licking his sculpted abs as I do. He kicks his shoes off and yanks his pants down, then he wraps his arms around me, lifting me up and out of my dress.
It falls into a heap on the floor, along with my shoes, and he sits back onto the stairs, catching himself with one hand while holding me with the other, our lips twisting and tangling together again. He cups my bare ass, and then glances down, tearing his lips from mine for just long enough to see my naked body, my thighs spread and my pussy bared for him.
“Holy fuck,” he says, tilting his chin to the ceiling.
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?