Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate - Season 1 Episode 45

Ella

I don’t have the chance to gasp, because the moment my lips part, Sinclair’s mouth has claimed them. His hand is firm on my nape, holding me in place so he can plunder my mouth at will. His tongue teases my lips before delving inside, coaxing my own out of hiding until they’re dancing, tangling and ma*saging each other with ravenous hunger.

My shock pa*ses quickly, and soon I’m rising up on my toes to meet him, my insides turning to mush as I wrap my arms around his neck, moaning when he pulls his lips from mine and begins carving a ruthless path over my jaw and down the sensitive skin of my throat.

I’m out of breath already, completely invigorated and lost to the world around us. As Sincalir’s talented tongue snakes out to dip into my clavicle, I take the opportunity to nibble his ear lobe. He purrs and a delicious river of heat pours through me. My body is flush against Sinclair’s, and I’ve completely forgotten about the other dancers. I press myself as close to him as possible, trying not to squirm. I’m desperate to get relief for my suddenly aching breasts and the deep pulsing between my legs, but too shy to truly seek it.

Luckily Sinclair doesn’t need to be told, he seems to sense my need effortlessly, and he’s not at all shy about seeking his own desires. He grips my hips in his powerful hands, holding them firmly against his and letting me feel his hardness. He gently undulates our bodies through the dance, rubbing me in all the right places under the pretense of following the sensuous steps.

This isn’t like our other kisses. There are no cameras around, no eager shifters looking on. I’m sure a few of the other wolves present are peeking our way, but everyone is so preoccupied with their own partners that I doubt we have a large audience. If I had the ability to think clearly right now I might wonder why Sinclair is being romantic when we don’t have anyone for whom to put on a show, but that’s all beside the point – because I couldn’t think clearly if my life depended on it.

I’m sure time stops, that the world stops spinning and everything in it ceases to matter except this singular moment between two people – despite the fact that we could not be more different if we tried. Sinclair’s lips are soft as silk, but his affection is rough and merciless, as if he’s trying to sear the feel of his kiss into my bones so that I’ll never forget the way it feels to be in his arms – to be his. I know he’s setting me up for heartbreak in the future – because I won’t forget, I’m sure I’ll never be able to kiss anyone again without remembering this and feeling infinitely disappointed that nothing can ever compare.

It’s also getting carried away very fast, but I can’t seem to find the will to end it. Luckily Sinclair does, pulling back a moment later and looking down at me with a fiery gaze that leaves me tingling from my head all the way down to my toes. It’s a good thing he has more restraint than I do, because I was about ready to rip off both of our clothes despite the cold. I swear I’ve never lost control that way in my entire life, and though part of me is worried about the power Sinclair obviously holds over me, it’s also impossible for me to be too worried when I’m with him. He makes me feel so safe it’s astonishing – and when I finally have the space to clear my head, frightening.

“Why did you do that?” I manage to gasp, still dazed with the aftershocks of his touch.

“Why?” He offers me a wolfish grin that makes my heart do somersaults. “Didn’t you like it?”

My cheeks flush with color, “Yes, but –”

“Then what’s the problem?” Sinclair inquires, completely missing the point. Before I can think of answering he’s kissing me again, stealing the thoughts from my mind and making my insides flutter. This time I do find the will to back away from him, and I’m not even a little intimidated when he rumbles with displeasure… at least, that’s how I try to act. In reality his growl has my knees turning to jelly. Why, oh why do I suddenly want to throw myself at his feet and expose my soft underbelly to his mercy?

“Dominic, I don’t think this is a good idea.” I finally manage to say, even though the little voice in the back of my head is protesting at the top of her lungs. .

“You don’t want me to kiss you?” Sinclair arches a skeptical brow, ma*saging my nape and studying my face so intently I wish I could run and hide.

“I didn’t say that.” I answer huskily. Lying when he’s looking at me this way is not even an option, the best I can do is skirt around the truth and pray he’ll let me get away with it.

“So you do want me to kiss you?” He smirks, tucking my body closer against his.

With an exasperated huff, I glare up at the impossible Alpha. “Look, I’m simply not the casual type.”

The amusement drains from Sinclair’s features at once, as if he realizes I’m truly not playing his game. “And you think I am?”

I want to scoff, or laugh in his absurdly handsome face. I think he’s rich and good looking enough to have any woman he wants, and ever since he divorced the tabloids have never once reported him taking the same woman out twice. They haven’t named him a play boy exactly, and I know it isn’t fair to label him this way because he’s obviously a family man – but committing to one’s children is very different from committing to a woman. Plenty of men continue their roguish ways even after becoming fathers.

I don’t say any of this, instead I answer, “I think I’m human and your surrogate. You’ve told me a dozen times that your mate will come along eventually and I’ll step down as Luna. Ie we have no future, which makes ‘casual’ the only option available to us.” I remind him stiffly.

“Would you want something more – a relationship – if it was possible?” He asks, the gears visibly turning in his head. I find myself reeling back. Why would he ask me such a thing – doesn’t he realize how cruel that is? Is he taunting me? Dangling the impossible over my head for sport? He doesn’t look like he’s being humorous or attempting a joke, he’s also not wearing the playful expression he’s donned when he flirts, but I can’t fathom why else he would go down this path.

“It isn’t possible, so why ask?” I inquire, feeling more and more annoyed by this line of questioning.

“Because I am.” Sinclair replies, with just enough edge to make me rethink a sa*sy retort.

“No, I wouldn’t.” I snap, and despite my overexcited body – I mean it. I’m woman enough to admit that I couldn’t handle a man like Sinclair. He would chew me up and spit me out… and I’d never survive it, no matter how attracted I might be to him. Rather, I wouldn’t survive it because of how attracted I am to him. The problem is that the heat between us is so much more than physical, I’m getting more emotionally invested every day, and I can’t take anymore. A relationship with Sinclair would be beyond self-destructive, especially given how raw I am after what happened with Mike.

“But you do want me to kiss you?” He presses, his co cky grin covering a countenance which suddenly seems dark and unreadable.

“I never said that.” I remind him.

“Not verbally, maybe.” Sinclair agrees. “Your body on the other hand…” He trails off, caressing one of his huge hands down my ribs, perilously close to the curve of my breast. I’m still plastered against him, on fire from his touch, and it takes all my willpower not to turn and press my aching nipple into his hand.

“You’re impossible.” I grumble, trying to stop myself from lashing out at him. The more he drags this flirtation out, the more I feel like some helpless rabbit his wolf is just toying with for sport. It isn’t fair, or right.

Sinclair sighs then, relaxing his hold on me and dragging one hand through his hair, “Ella, there’s probably something I should warn you about–”

I shake my head, drawing away from him. I don’t want a warning or lesson right now. I just want to catch my breath and I’ll never be able to do that if I stay with Sinclair. “I’m going to find a restroom.” I announce, cutting him off.

“Ella –”

“The baby is pressing on my bladder.” I declare stubbornly, knowing he’ll do anything to accommodate the pup. Unsurprisingly, he lets me go, and I storm off into the crowd, hoping I’ll be able to find some decent facilities.