Page 43 of Fated Alpha Baby

My knees shake, weakening just from the look he’s giving me. Then, he does the unthinkable when he steps even closer, closing the little distance between us, and I notice how his chest heaves with equally uncontrolled breaths as he reaches a hand to my cheek.

“The only thing I want to do,” he purrs, voice silky smooth now as he stares into my eyes, “is rip your clothes off and make you mine. Really make you mine.”

My lips part on a gasp, my heart hammering in my chest, every nerve ending tingling with sensation, every inch of me heated simply because of the way he whispered those words to me, and the way he stroked my cheek with the coarse, warm pad of his thumb.

His very existence is my undoing, and while I hate how much power he has over me, I can’t help but fall victim to his clutches, my body naturally responding to him. I press my thighs together tightly, gulping hard and swallowing my saliva.

“Do it…” I whisper, not sure what has come over me except primal desire, primal need to mate with the alpha.

“Don’t tease me, Hannah.”

“I’m not.”

Conan growls under his breath and abruptly pulls back, clutching a fist beside his face, his gaze slanted and almost intoxicated, brows furrowed with pained restraint. He opens his eyes just a peep, orbs heavy and dark.

“Eight years…” he drawls. “Eight long years, and it’s still only you who does this to me,” he groans as he returns his hand to my face, this time to grip my chin as he fiercely glares into my eyes. “You are supposed to be my strength, but you are my weakness.”

I shake my head slowly, unable to form a single, coherent thought as his hot breath fans my face, the minty notes of his unmistakable scent wafting through my parted lips and turning me feral.

“Then let me be your strength,” I whisper. “It’s why you made me your luna.”

Conan shakes his head. “I made you my luna because of this…”

He kisses me then, his tongue driving between my lips with a relentless, passionate force that has me moaning and melting into him. One hand is at the small of my back, pulling me close to his firm frame, the other at the back of my head, drawing me into the greedy kiss as he devours my lips and explores the cavity of my mouth.

I’m already drenched just from feeling the bulge of his erection pressed against my hip, one leg curling around his thigh as my body, my core, begs to feel him.

He breaks the kiss, and I mewl in protest at the loss of his lips as he stares at me with heated desire flashing in his eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, Hannah…” he growls against my lips right before he spins me over and pulls me against his chest, one hand sailing down my satin blouse, the other sliding up to my neck.

His breathing is heavy against my ear as he reaches the waistband of my shorts.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes…” I whisper, my breath hitching when his fingers slip through the waistband. I close my eyes and let my head fall back onto his shoulder as he keeps me restrained with one hand on my neck, the other cupping my clothed core possessively.

“Fuck…you’re soaking, Hannah…” he breathes against the shell of my ear before latching his teeth on my lobe. He bites down firmly while he moves the crotch of my panties to the side, and when his finger merely brushes past my folds, I shudder.

The sensation is intense enough to elicit another wave of wanton need, my body quaking as I let out a moan. Conan tugs on my earlobe just as he slips a finger through my aching walls.

“Conan…” I murmur his name as I close my eyes and let the sensations wash over every inch of my being. As he pushes his finger deeper and my soaking walls clench around the digit, I realize just how much I’d missed this. Missed him.

Eight years of pent-up desire come crashing into me as he thrusts a finger inside me, and all I can imagine is what it’d feel like to have his hard, thick cock between my thighs. My mouth waters at the mere thought, and I reach back to put my hand on his crotch.

He grabs my wrist to stop me, twisting my arm and pushing me down against the island table, the coldness of the marble soaking through my blouse and pressing against my heated flesh.

I gasp when he grinds his hips between my thighs, his solid erection nudging at my clothed folds.

“Be a good girl, and don’t make a sound. We don’t want to wake Clarissa, do we?”

I purse my lips and nod my head as he pulls my shorts and panties down my thighs, and I hear his knees hit the floorboards. Behind me, he’s kneading my flesh between his large hands, peppering open-mouthed kisses on my skin.

“Beautiful…” he praises as he sucks in a breath, and before I can inhale again, his hand crashes flat on one mound.

My body jolts as electric awareness rushes through my veins, my arousal skyrocketing to dangerous heights. By the time he touches my folds again, I’m on the brink of orgasm, body spasming with pleasure, moans falling from my lips of their own accord.

“Shh,” he husks as he grabs my neck when he’s back on his feet, drawing me flush against him. His bottoms are gone, his cock digging between my ass cheeks. “I told you, Hannah, don’t make a sound, okay?”