The Alpha CEO’s Unloved Wife

Chapter 34

Lovers

She woke to the sound of his voice, her body aching because he had left the bed. Afternoon again, she thought, by the light. The frequent, brief sleeps in between f-king disorientated her, and for a moment, she wondered what day it was, before deciding that it was Friday.

He was in the sitting room, on his phone. He laughed. “No, I don’t know an alpha who would complain about their mate having two heats close together, though it is a strain on my scheduling, and I apologise for cancelling again… The removal of a contraceptive implant triggered another heat due to the change of hormones. Apparently, it happens on occasion… Ah, of course… Yes, I would say we could schedule it for then. Thank you.”

He disconnected the call, but he did not return to the bed.

She rose, pulling on her robe, and crossed to the sitting room. He was on her laptop, and she felt a flutter of fear as she wondered if she had closed down her course material, or just shut the laptop, after it’s last use. She was falling behind on her course, she thought grimly, and would have to study hard over the weekend in order to catch up.

He looked up and smiled. “I will just be a moment,” he returned to what he was doing. “I just need to update my schedule and send some information through to Judith.” Judith must be, she decided, a personal assistant or receptionist of some type. “All done,” he pressed a button, and then closed the laptop, but remained seated, frowning.

“Is everything okay?” She was nervous and wanted her laptop as far from him as possible.

“Yes,” his expression cleared, and he set the laptop down on the coffee table, rising. “I don’t see that picture of your mother anywhere,” he observed as he reached her. “I would have thought that it would be framed and on display.”

“I keep it somewhere safe,” she said. In the hollowed book with her money, tucked away in the little stack of books that occupied a shelf in the closet.

His eyebrows raised. “Your bedroom isn’t safe?”

She swallowed but then lifted her eyes to his. “It wasn’t the last time.

“Ah,” understanding passed over his face. He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I will ensure that Angelique knows not to enter this room for any reason. I would change your rooms, but it would be salt in the wound if I were to move Angelique at the moment,” he said gently. “And I don’t think it would be wise to push her further.”

“No,” she agreed readily. She did not want the room, anyway. She did not want to sleep in the bed where he had f-ked Angelique.

“No,” his eyes searched hers for a long moment and he frowned slightly.

“Is something wrong, Baron?” The craving for his body was crawling through her more insistently, but the fear lingered, and his frowns concerned her, that perhaps he had seen something on her laptop…

“No,” his expression cleared, and he leaned forward, inhaling. “Let’s drag the bedding into your sitting room, and we can watch a movie together,” he said as he pulled her towards him, and released the belt of her robe, peeling back the satin and stroking his hand down to her breast, teasing the nipple beneath the pad of his thumb. “There is a stupid human movie about werewolves that I have heard good things about.”

It was, she thought as he leaned over to kiss the pulse point of her throat, such an ordinary thing to do, the sort of thing that humans did, that mates did, in a normal relationship, watch TV together. He released her and returned to the sitting room in order to move the furniture to where he wanted it, whilst she retrieved cushions and the bedding from the bed.

They built a nest in the space between the TV and the couch, and he brought her down onto it, onto her hands and knees, pressing kisses up the knobs of her spine, his hands stroking and teasing as he curved himself over her, thrusting into her just as she was on the point of pleading for his c-ck. He groaned as he pushed deep, the tone gritty with desire.

“Next full moon,” he said between his teeth as he thrusted and she braced beneath him, moaning at the feel of his c-ck sliding through her. “I will chase you through the trees, until your heart races with prey response, and then I will f-k your sweet little wolf in the undergrowth, until we tie. It is what your body is craving now,” he said. “It knows that, inside, you are a wolf, and your mate should knot in you, to ensure…”

He moaned suddenly, and came, laughing as he sagged over her. “Sorry,” he said ruefully. “Just the thought finished me.” He wrapped his arm around her and stroked her clitoris, pushing her into her orgasm, and groaned as she clenched around him, before collapsing them both onto their sides in the cushions and bedding, pressing his lips to her shoulder. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

He started the movie and arranged her against him. Watching him laugh at the utterly unrealistic predicaments of the werewolf on the TV, she smiled, enchanted. His eyes when he looked down at her were bright, happy, and carefree.

Emboldened, she trailed her fingers over his jaw, through the cleft in his chin, down the line of his throat. She followed the ridge of collar bone to the hollow point at the base of his throat, and then down the center-line of his body.

It was as if, she thought, his body had been sculpted to direct a woman’s touch, the furrow between the muscles of his stomach exactly measured to her fingertip. At his waist, a v of muscle tempted her to trace it to it’s point where his c-ck stood hard and ready.

He was no longer watching the movie, his eyes on her, his body stilled, waiting, she thought, to see what she did next.

She touched his c-ck, exploring the twist of veins under skin felted so soft, the core of him densely hard. He was beautiful here too, she observed.

She had never thought that a man’s c-ck could be a thing of beauty, but his was perfect in every way. Pre-come beaded, and she spread it under her thumb.

His moan was filthy with desire. “Don’t stop,” he whispered when she paused, flicking her eyes up

to his uncertainly. “Your touch feels so good, my mate.”

She tried to close her fingers around his c-ck and failed, and his eyes closed, his head arching back. He swallowed, hard, on a groan.

She traced the line from tip to balls, the skin-tight to her touch.

“Oh f-k,” was dragged from him and his c-ck jerked, his hips twitching. His hands were fisted, the knuckles whitened. On the edge, she realised, of coming. He broke suddenly, pulling her beneath him and thrusting into her with a jagged cry, his body bowing with his orgasm, every line of him masculine beauty in perfection.

He laughed as he lowered over her. “Twice now,” he said wryly. “I have lost control and come without bringing you pleasure, Jane. You will start to think that I am a terribly selfish lover.”