Alpha's Secret

by Renee Rose

  She hovers behind me. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No,” I bark and repeat in a softened tone. “No. You’re perfect. I just—it’s been a long day.”

  “Of course.” She dusts her hands on her dress. “Just…let me know what you need me to do.” She scoots off, bustling around the kitchen. I try to go back to preparing food, but I still have the scent of her in my nose, the taste of her on my tongue. I pounced on her as soon as she walked through the door, but she didn’t protest. I kissed her and she let me, as if I was just taking my due. I grit my teeth. Would she be so willing to offer her charms to the conquering victor?

  I gotta get my head straight and let her know where she stands. Whatever we feel for each other, whatever we’re heading towards, it can’t last.

  The thought makes me want to howl.

  “Bags, Kit. Go unpack,” I order her. Tuned into her as I am, I listen to the bags rustle and wait until her breath catches before turning.

  She’s holding a big sketch pad.

  “Is this for me?”

  “I’m not much of an artist. Anyway, I told you I’d get it.”

  “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

  “No problem.” I dump everything into a crockpot and turn it on low. “We have some time before dinner. Make yourself at home.”

  I stomp to the bath to clean up. Strip off my shirt and examine myself in the dingy mirror. Fucking wolves got a few shots in, but the bruises are almost gone. The cats’ scratches have all but disappeared. Only a few red tears where they got me with their claws. I’m not surprised they tipped their nails in something that would delay shifter healing.

  The door creaks open and Jordy stands there, eyes round as she surveys my bare chest.

  “You’re all healed up,” she says, coming and touching my back. Her fingers dance over my skin, light and gentle. I still and she must take it as a sign of encouragement because she strokes both hands down the expanse of muscle then wraps her arms around my middle and presses her body into mine. Her breasts brush my back as she hugs me. Fates.

  She has no idea how close I am to whirling around and pouncing, wrenching her legs open and pounding my cock into her sweet little cunt until she’s screaming my name.

  I take a deep, steadying breath. “Course I’m healed,” I tell her gruffly. “Just took some punches.”

  “And scratches and bites,” she says, a hint of chastising in her tone. I turn and cradle her face. “You don’t like me fighting, Kit?”

  Biting her lip she shakes her head.

  I drop a kiss onto her forehead, right where the reddish hair meets freckled skin. “Better get used to it, ‘cause I’m a fighter. It’s who I am.”

  “I know,” her voice is muffled against my bare chest. Her fingers slide over my pect, tracing a raised mark. “You have all these scars.”

  “You should see the other guy.”

  She doesn’t crack a smile. “How did you get these? Not fighting shifters.”

  “No.”

  She frowns up at me. Her fingers still swirl over my scar, muddling my thoughts. A potent torture I can’t resist. A few more minutes, and I’ll spill my guts for a chance to get her in my bed. Gotta say something, get her off this dangerous subject.

  “Did you ask Augustine so many questions?”

  Her little body stiffens. Fates, why did I bring that leech up? Jordy starts to pull away and I haul her back against me.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it.”

  “You know I didn’t,” she says shakily. “That was not the relationship we had. He was my master. I had to obey.”

  “Jordy, I’m sorry.”

  Angling her head, she eyes me with her hair half obscuring her face. “You’re not my master.”

  “No, I’m not.” I bite back anything else I might add. I don’t want to be her master. Do I?

  She’s frowning thoughtfully, her narrowed eyes flicking up and down my body. Sizing me up, weighing me. I get the feeling she sees every part of me. For the first time in my life, I’m not proud of who I am.

  Even if I wanted to own her, she shouldn’t allow it. I don’t measure up.

  “Jordy…” her name is sweet on my tongue. “I’m not a good man.”

  Her frown deepens.

  “I’ve… done things. It’s not that I’m not proud of them, it’s just that what I am, what I do, it doesn’t fit in the normal world. The world you live in. The world you deserve.” Fates, I’m not explaining this right. “I’m not like normal guys.”

  Understanding lights her eyes. “I don’t want normal.”

  I sigh hard enough to blow her hair back. My hand finds her face. She closes her eyes. There’s a picture, my tattooed and fight roughed hands on either side of her sweet freckled cheeks. She’s so perfect and innocent. My skin looks dirty against hers. I don’t want to touch her. I don’t want to ruin what she is.

  But I will. If she stays.

  “I should send you away.”

  “Where would you send me?”

  “Somewhere safe,” I mutter against her hair. “Somewhere far away…from me.”

  “I don’t want to go.” Her hand seeks my cheek. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here. With you.”

  “You can’t know that. You don’t know what I’ve done. What I plan to do….”

  She turns and draws the dress over her head, turning a little. I stand stunned as she lets the clothing drop to the floor and smiles at me over her shoulder. Her hips sway, and all the blood rushes out of my head, going straight to my dick.

  “Well?” She pauses in the doorway of my bedroom. “Are you coming or not?”

  Chapter 11

  Grizz

  “Fates,” I mutter and stride to her so quickly, her eyes widen. I scoop her up in my arms and toss her on the bed so fast she gasps.

  I draw back. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” She’s laughing. “This is what I wanted.” Her hands roam over me and when I find her mouth and claim it, she arches into the kiss.

  Then she wriggles down my body.

  “Kit—?” I go to grab her, haul her back up, but her hands are busy on my jeans and I freeze.

  “Shh,” she says. “Just relax and enjoy it.”

  I huff. “That’s my line.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know. I want to.” She unbuttons and unzips and opens my jeans like unwrapping a present. It’s dark, but I feel the reverence in her touch. Hot breath hits my skin.

  “Hang on.” I can’t believe I’m stalling her, but the chance to watch her is too perfect to pass up. “I want to see you.”

  I reach over, flick on the light.

  She blinks up at me. I lie back and let her settle over me, reaching to stroke her face.

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Mmm,” she purrs, and nuzzles my cock. She starts kissing it, her eyes closed as if she’s reached nirvana. Fates, she’s not gonna suck my cock, she’s gonna worship it.

  Her head drops and I groan as she licks my balls, swirling her tongue like she’s licking an ice cream cone. Dizzy with pleasure, I let her take her sweet time. How did I get this lucky?

  “Jordy…baby…you gotta stop.”

  She jerks her head up. “You don’t like it?”

  “You know I love it. But I’m gonna explode.”

  She smiles, and I see the vixen in her.

  “Naughty,” I growl. “Suck my cock.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fates, I’m gonna blow. “Now,” I order and she sits up, dipping her head down immediately.

  That’s when I see it, a white mass of scars over her left breast.

  “What the fuck?”

  Her head snaps up, worry creasing her brow.

  I touch the raised flesh, white weals where the skin was marred and healed. How have I not noticed this before?

  “It’s nothing,” she says, her expression dulling. A huge change from her usual sunny self. Like light shutt
ing off.

  “He fucking mauled you.” I splay my hand over the raised flesh, so angry I can’t see straight.

  Jordy bows her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Who did this to you? Was it Augustine?” I can barely growl out his name.

  Her eyes closed, she shakes her head. I catch her hair, holding her still. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. He was another vampire. I don’t know who he was. Augustine gave me to him…as a reward. You know my relationship with him. I did as I was told.”

  “And he hurt you.” It’s not a question. Fangs tearing into her like that, it had to hurt.

  She jerks away and sits on the edge of the bed, folding into herself. I get a lungful of her scent. Not fear, not anger.

  Shame.

  My anger washes away.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I know he marked you. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not,” she says in a small voice that kills me.

  I scoot to her, and when she shrinks away, I straddle her small body between my heavy thighs, enclosing her. My arm goes around her middle just in time for me to feel her give a dry sob.

  Oh fuck.

  “Hey,” I say, desperate. “Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that. It’s just…” I search for words to describe the rage brewing in my chest. “The thought of you getting hurt like that…makes me want to destroy worlds.”

  “It’s my fault,” she says.

  “Jordy, no. No way it’s your fault.”

  She keeps her head bowed.

  “What happened? You want to talk about it?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Okay, you don’t have to talk about it.” Fates, what do I say? I thrust my forearm in front of her. “See this?”

  She nods.

  “What do you see?”

  “Tattoos. Lots of them.”

  “A whole sleeve.”

  “Yes.”

  “Feel it, Jordy. Touch it.”

  She does and I grit my teeth. Her touch still has me hard. I wait until she reaches my favorite part of the tattoo, a giant redwood. She runs her finger up the trunk and pauses. There.

  “You feel that?” I ask, burrowing my face into her hair. Even her scent is perfect. “You know what that is?”

  “A scar.”

  “Yep. Big one. Got caught with a knife.”

  “But how—” she stops. She knows what scars a shifter.

  “Vampire blood. I tried to stake the fucker. Got hit with blood, and it made the knife wound scar.”

  She turns in my lap, eyes wide at my declaration. “You fought a vampire.”

  More than one, but she doesn’t need to know that. She looks absolutely shocked and I get it. Because I fought a vampire, and I’m still breathing.

  “It’s not possible,” she whispers.

  “Feel my arm.”

  She does, more hesitantly. The weal runs through the heart of the redwood tattoo and becomes a wave on an ocean, the Great Wave by Hokusai. Further around my arm, on more placid water, a ship sails into the horizon. “How did you get away?

  “Luck.” It’s a partial truth. “I can’t tell you much.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  I shrug. Something in her eyes makes me ask, “Do you remember?” I touch her scar again, gently, but she flinches.

  “No.” Her face shutters again. “Not completely.”

  “He’d have to spill vampire blood on you to make it scar. Lots of it.”

  “I know,” she says softly.

  I don’t want to ask. What sick fuck vampire tears into his victim, and soaks her in his own blood just so she’ll scar?

  No wonder Jordy has nightmares.

  “So how’d you scar, then?” she asks.

  I don’t want to go down this road, but if it draws her away from her dark path, I will. “Same way you did. Vampire blood. Lots of it.”

  “He bled on you?’

  “Not by choice. It burned like a mother, but I got him, in the end.”

  She’s silent, contemplating, her fingers still working down my arm. Her touch falls away, and she turns to the subject I absolutely do not want her thinking about. “You fight like a vampire. I know you do. I saw you.”

  “Jordy—”

  “How do you do it? How is it possible?”

  I shake my head. Pressing my lips together. We cannot go there.

  “Declan and Parker were talking about it. Vampires are bigger, faster, strong. Shifters are all those things, but head to head, vampires beat shifters every time.”

  “He’s right. As far as I know, I’m the only shifter to ever beat a vampire. There’s a way to do it, but only I know how.” Fates, why am I telling her this? If any vampire finds out what she knows, her life is forfeit. Not to mention mine.

  “How?”

  “It’s a secret. I can’t tell you.”

  Her hand drops to her own chest. “I dream about him, sometimes. The vampire who did this.”

  “I know, Kit.” I’ve held her through those nightmares. “I’ll kill him.”

  “No. I wish I was bigger, stronger, faster. So I could defend myself. But I’m not. I’ll always be small.” She sounds so sad. I want to comfort her and have no idea how. “And now I’m scarred. Ugly. Augustine was so mad after…he saw me. He never treated me the same after that.”

  “He should’ve protected you,” I growl. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She closes her eyes, tears spilling, magnifying the freckles.

  “Kit, sweetness,” I shift her closer in my arms. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart. If I had been there, I would’ve protected you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m here now. No vampire will ever touch you again.”

  She shakes her head. “I’ve got to go back. You know that. You can’t take from a vampire.”

  “He’s not getting his hands on you again,” I growl.

  Her eyes slide to the door.

  I grip her hair. “No. No running. We’re in this now, together. If you think you’re going back to him after this—”

  “Grizz, please.”

  “No, Jordy.” I tip her face up. “He doesn’t get to have you.”

  Her eyes open and meet mine. “Then who does? Who gets to have me?”

  “No one.”

  “I don’t want to belong to no one.”

  “You belong to yourself.”

  “I know. But I want to give myself to someone.”

  I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help it. “Who?”

  She licks her lips. “You.”

  “Jordy. I can’t…” This is killing me. The knife in my arm, the burn of vampire blood hurts less.

  “I know.” She lays her small fingers over my scared lips. “Shh, I know.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you, Kit. I should let you, but I can’t. Not until—” Not until I find someone better to take her. I should say that, but I can’t.

  With a small nod, she pulls away. I let her go. But then she starts to slip down between my knees again.

  “What are you doing?” Hope and alarm mixes in my voice.

  “You saved me from him.” She sets her hands on my knees, her face at my crotch. “Let me thank you.”

  “I want more than your gratitude,” I growl, tugging her head back by her hair.

  “Then what do you want?” Her whiskey-colored eyes spear me, open and guileless and absolutely devastating. Stripping me down, wrecking every wall I’ve raised between us.

  “You, Kit. I want you. But I can’t have you…” My voice grows ragged as she tugs against my hold, putting her lips right near my upright shaft.

  “Just for tonight then. Just for tonight.”

  If I tug her hair any tighter, I’ll hurt her, so I let her go. She wants to suck my cock? Fuck if I can stop her. I can barely think with her auburn hair spilling over my thigh, her lips skimming my cock.

  “Fuck, yes. Kit, baby—”

  “I
love how you call me Kit,” she says, her breath blowing over my turgid length. “Your baby fox.” Her tongue darts out, and she licks me. Fuck, I’m gonna explode.

  “Kit, please.”

  Her smile is smug. “I like being your baby. You make me feel small and cute.”

  “You are small.”

  She wrinkles her nose.

  “You’re cute, too, but not just that.” Reach down and spear her hair with my blunt fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

  With a quiet satisfied smile, she opens her mouth and engulfs my cock. Lights flash in my brain, my hips jerk up, fucking her mouth. She goes with it, bobbing her head, her mouth providing perfect suction. She takes me to the root—insane, given how big I am and how small she is.

  She’s humming—Fates—vibrations through me, my balls gonna explode.

  “Jordy,” I jerk her. “I want you.” I want to come in her but there’s not time. “I’m gonna come.” I want her. She sucks harder, vacuums every bit of cum outta me.

  With a roar I thrust hard into her mouth, she takes it, every inch.

  Cum dribbles out of the side of her mouth. Obscene. Should be angry for defiling her, instead I want to lay her down, make her scream, wreck and ruin her and make a beautiful mess in my bed. Then hold her in my arms and croon how precious she is. She’ll let me. She’ll let me do every depraved thing I want to do, and lie there, tattered innocence, and smile.

  Fisting my hand in her hair, I hold her still and kiss her, hard enough to bruise. My stubble scrapes her soft skin, but if it hurts her, she makes no sign. She wriggles under me, her legs wrapped around my hips, tugging me closer, begging for more.

  I kiss down her body, browsing over her heart, breasts chafed, her hands begging.

  “Please, Grizz, please, oh, yes—”

  I prop her legs over my shoulders and bury my face in her snatch. Fates, she tastes so damn good. “Gonna eat you, baby. Gonna lick up every drop.” My tongue rough and wide, lapping over as much of her tender skin as I can. She writhes under the onslaught, but her hands grip my hair, pulling me tighter.

  That’s it baby, let go. My hand finds her breast and plumps it, squeezing it. She’ll wear the marks from my rough stubble, my conquering hands. I pull her legs apart and attack her sweet pussy with my tongue again, drawing fresh moans. Fuck, I want more.

  I flip her over and swat her ass, growling with pleasure at the red handprint on her pale flesh. I want to mark her. I want to own her. I want her to feel me in every way. I smack her again, without malice, but hard enough to leave a mark.