Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
“Like what?”
“Anything you want. Make you feel good.” His voice grows even more ragged. “Kiss you.”
“You are kissing me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean on the lips?” He rumbles. For some reason, I want to giggle.
He’s so male and dominant and grown, but in this moment, he reminds me of Fallon and the other scrappers who come by the cabin on some pretext—to borrow a video game or get a cut fixed up—and try to chat us up, puffed up and bold and transparently scared as shit.
I squirm in Darragh’s arms, but I don’t try to escape him. He tightens his grip anyway, but gently. A fizzy warmth tingles between my legs, and it’s not heat—it’s a more subtle sensation. I’m surprised it even registers.
“Yes, I want to kiss you, Mari,” he mutters like I’ve tortured it out of him.
“How bad?” I whisper.
“So fucking bad,” he groans.
“Okay,” I say and twist in his arms.
“Okay,” he says back, cupping my bottom to scoot me closer while he gazes down at me as if he’s never seen anything like me in his life. Sheer wonder. Slight terror.
I smile and tilt my head. He tracks my curls as they fall back, and then his gaze falls to my lips. I don’t have time to take another breath. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me.
Like he’s starving.
Like I’m everything.
Like he’s wanted to do this his entire life, and he never thought he would, and reality has exploded into a technicolor dream, and I’m the center of it all.
Like that.
The power makes me lightheaded. It scares me witless.
His lips taste like salt and copper, and they’re rough but soft, and I can’t get enough. He won’t give me enough. He kisses me and then holds me away, his grip tight on my upper arms, searching my face—I guess to see if I’m freaking out—and then he groans in surrender and kisses me again.
I’ve never been kissed before.
I’ve never been this close to someone, and he doesn’t let me adjust at my own pace. He demands that I open my mouth for his tongue, that I wrap my good arm around his neck, that I hold on to him tight.
His hand slips between us. Between the clank of the chains, a button pops, a zipper unzips, and fabric rips. I glance down. His jeans are in tatters, his ruddy cock jutting up, flush with his taut abs, thick and proud.
I nip his tongue so that he’ll let me up for air. He growls into my mouth, his eyes flying open. They’re burnished, swirling gold, the pupils mere pinpricks.
“D-Darragh?”
He growls again. His fangs flash. From one instant to the next, something has changed. Something is different.
Oh, shit. Is this rut?
Fear shoots down my veins at the same time a gush of wetness soaks my pussy, dribbling down my splayed thighs. I freeze. I hardly breathe.
He rises to his feet. I fall to my butt, barely managing to cushion my wrist to my chest, and scuttle back. He reaches for me, but the chain catches him short, and he roars. As if newly aware of his bonds, he tears at them, fighting forward, wild-eyed, his bared fangs glistening.
With a groan, the container walls dent inward, but the metal plates don’t give.
Darragh raises his head to the roof and howls, a primal outcry of rage and the promise of retribution. My wolf whimpers and goes to her belly, caught between the impulse to run, hide, and present.
In a split second, the illusion of free choice is gone. I either do this and save him from himself, or I don’t. I leave him like this.
He left me, and my heart is still bitter, so bitter. But what if he didn’t want to?
I don’t think he wanted to.
I don’t think he’s just the male who hurt me. I think he lived a whole life before we recognized each other, and maybe I don’t understand everything, and maybe I haven’t tried.
Maybe he needs me.
Maybe I have to be the strong and brave one.
Oh, shit.
I don’t want to go down on all fours. I don’t want it to be anything like last time.
I’m so scared, and there’s no time. If they open the door and shoot us full of tranqs now, it’ll all happen like they want. We won’t have a chance.
Darragh’s howl of rage subsides into a prolonged growl, punctuated by snarls and the snap of his teeth, and his blanked-out eyes roll toward me. He tries to lunge forward, but he’s come as far as the chains will let him.
His throat rattles with a series of guttural snarls, and I don’t need my wolf to translate—it’s a demand to present.
For a moment, a sense of profound loneliness grips me. My gaze skitters around the empty box, dimming as the sun sets.
I don’t want to be alone in this. I want Darragh back.
And I’m so fucking terrified. My knees knock.
“D-Darragh?” I say, softly.
He snarls and fights against his chains, his skin flushing, his cock even harder and thicker, his balls heavy where they hang.
Inside my trembling body, a gush of heat clashes with a wave of cold fear.
“P-Please don’t hurt me.” I take a small step toward him. I can’t tear my eyes away. I’ve seen the man and the wolf, but I’ve never seen or imagined this terrifying amalgamation—Darragh’s innate dominance and strength coupled with his wolf’s wildness, his ferocity.
I’m not going to walk into his arms, am I? That’s insane.
But I’m not leaving him like this. I’m strong and brave and this is not ending with us disappearing—it ends with Darragh laying their bodies at my feet, like he said.
Again, I flash back to him racing for me in the clearing, throwing his arms wide, a different wildness in his eyes.
I take another small step forward.
“I-I’m scared,” I whisper to him.
His face doesn’t change. There’s no flicker of awareness in his blazing eyes, but as he strains toward me, he throws his shoulder back and sort of rotates his arm. It’s a jerky maneuver, like he’s a marionette on a string. He does it again with the other shoulder while he snarls, demanding I present, and my body instinctively responds, my nipples aching, my belly contracting.
It takes me longer than it should to realize what he’s doing. He’s winding the chains around his arms, pinning them behind his back. Obviously, he could free himself as easily as he’s strung himself up, but I understand.
Warmth infuses my chest. He’s in there, or if he isn’t, whatever he is now doesn’t want to hurt me.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. Sunshine fills my lungs. “I’m doing this.” I step closer.
He drops to his knees. His arms are pulled taut behind him, and he’s gripping the chains in his fists, like a sacrifice. He growls at me, and I don’t need my wolf to know what he’s saying.
Come here. Now.
Every inch of my skin is alive. I want to touch him. Crush my aching, full breasts against his hard chest. Lick and bite his tensed, exposed neck.
I give in.
This is mine.
I drive my fingers into his hair, fist the strands, yank his head back. Snarl into his face.