Page 31 of Possessive Alpha

All I need is to know that he doesn’t have a scratch on him. And if he does, I’ll go to war against whoever hurt him.

“I’m okay,” he assures me.

I still can’t bring myself to let him go. I don’t know that I ever will.

An eternity later, we reluctantly pull apart.

He thumbs a tear away from my cheek. “No crying allowed, sweetheart.”

“No running off on your own.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t apologize for what I did, and if I had to do it again, I would. Your safety comes first. Over me. Over anything.”

“You said being mates means we’re partners,” I remind him.

“I did.” He slides his palm around the nape of my neck, and his fingers caress the fine hair there. “But it also means me putting my life on the line for you. Those aren’t instincts I can or even want to ignore.”

He means it. Even if he’d known there was a pack waiting to spring a trap on him, he’d have raced right into it.

For me.

“What happened?” I whisper, leaning into his caress.

His chest is rising, signs he’s breathing hard as he steps into me. “Smelled trouble.”

I swallow around the dryness in my throat as my breathing ramps up to meet his. “And did you find it?”

He slowly shakes his head as he strokes his free hand down my side and gently squeezes my right hip. “Just tracks. Spoke to Jackson about it. Looked like we had two new arrivals who decided they didn’t want to come here after all and turned away. Could be nothing, or…”

He nudges my back against the closed door and his hand briefly releases my hip.

The sound of a lock engaging makes moisture flood my panties. “Or?”

His eyes fix on my lips. “Not sure, sweetheart. I’m suddenly losing the ability to use my brain.”

Don’t I know it.

“You locked the door,” I whisper as his head lowers.

“I did,” he says.

His lips touch mine and he slants his head to deepen his kiss. As far as kisses go, it’s tame. Soft, a little sweet. Yet something about it destroys my brain and his.

We’re suddenly clinging together as I do my best to crawl up his body. He traps me against the locked door, his lips fused to mine as I curl my legs around his hips and run my hands over every inch of him I can get. I don’t just need to know he’s okay. I need to feel it.

His hand is under my shirt, tugging at my bra, and about to unsnap it when I realize what I’m doing.

I break the kiss, breathing hard as I rest my head on the back of the door. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

He strokes a large hand up and down my back, a question in his heated stare. “Stop?”

I work hard to regulate my breathing.

“Martha? Say the word, sweetheart, and we stop.”

I don’t say the word. My eyes dip to his mouth, and I lick my lips, still tasting his kiss and wanting more.

He groans in the back of his throat. “Keep looking at me like that and I might have to do something about it.”

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