I pressed my lips together. Now wasn’t the time, nor place for this. “What’re you going to do?” I asked. “Force me onto my knees again, so I can relievemy dear alphaof all his stress?”
He grinded his hardness into me, and I pressed my knees together. Wishing away the wetness forming between my legs.
Stop it, Isabella. Stop him. I was mad at him. So fucking mad. Mad that he hadn’t undressed me already and touched me the way I had needed him to for weeks now.
“Is that what you want, Isabella?” he asked against my ear. “For me to force you onto your knees?” When I didn’t answer the question, he released one of my wrists and trailed his fingers down my body, slipping them into my pants. “It’s good that I don’t like giving you what you want, huh?”
He rubbed my clit in small, fast circles. Damn him. I squeezed my eyes closed, tried to steady my breathing, and cursed at him for always knowing exactly how to touch me.
“I give you what you need, Isabella. Not what you want.” He pressed his lips against my neck and sucked the skin into his mouth. My core tightened, and I grasped onto his bicep. “Is this what you need?”
I let out a small whimper.
“Use your words.” He lightly trailed his fingers across my nipple through my shirt and then tugged on it. “Isthiswhat you need?”
A wave of pleasure washed through me, and I clenched my pussy. Oh, Moon Goddess. “Yes.”
His fingers moved faster. “Yes, what?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yes, Alpha.”
He pushed me further into the tree as his fingers entered me. They curled wildly inside of me, over and over and over and oh, Lord. Wave after wave of pleasure was coursing through my body, making my fingers tingle.
“Cum for me, Isabella.” He pinched my nipple hard between his fingers, and I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning out loud.
I threw my head back. “Yes, Alpha.” My body trembled, and I dug my fingernails into his shoulder, body trembling against him.
My breaths came out short and ragged. I rocked back and forth against the tree, feeling like I was walking on the clouds. It felt so good. He felt so good, and I hated myself for giving into him so easily and for letting him rilemeup so easily.
I just couldn’t help it.
When I finished, Roman nodded to his truck sitting in the Night Raider’s parking lot. “Come on.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the lot. “I’m taking you home.”
Without complaining to him for once, I sat in his car and inhaled his scent. It was impeccably organized inside—no empty bottles of water or failed math exams sitting on the seats like in Derek’s car. The dashboard was sleek, almost sparkling. He had a maroon journal sitting between us with a few sheets of paper sticking out of it. When he noticed me staring at it, he pushed the papers back into the journal.
“You don’t make things easy for me,” he said. His voice was soft despite the death grip he had on the steering wheel.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. His eyes flickered back and forth between gold and green, and he stared out the windshield. Quiet. He was so damn quiet. I frowned and sat back. “Okay, don’t tell me.”
He parked in my driveway, and I opened the door. Wanting nothing more than to sink into my sheets and sleep for once. This week had wiped me out, and I was finally satisfied.
“Wait,” he said, tapping his fingers on his journal. I stared at him for a few moments, my heart racing. He parted his lips and looked down at his journal. “I…”
I waited for him to say something, for him to tell me to stay for a moment longer, for him to grasp my wrist and tug me into the forest until it was midnight. But he didn’t do any of those things.
He sighed through his nose and frowned down at his lap, looking defeated. He hadn’t had that expression since his parents died, and even then I never saw it up close. I never felt how I was feeling now for him.
“Have a good night, Isabella,” he said.
I stayed in the car for another moment, hoping that he would break, then—when I knew he wouldn’t—I shut the door and walked to the house, not looking back despite my wolf begging me to see him one last time.
Inside of me, my stomach turned. We were wrong. This—whatever it was—was wrong. We shouldn’t be getting close to each other. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. It was supposed to only be physical, purely physical.
An emotional connection would be frowned upon by my mate—whoever he was—because feeling this way about myalpha, well, that was beyond wrong.
When I reached my bedroom, I gazed out the window to see his car still in the driveway. He gazed up at me for a moment and gave me a small, trying smile.
Goodnight, Roman.
