Page 21 of Freeing My Alpha

My stomach flutters. I’ve never heard someone put it so plainly before. “God, exactly. I don’t want to do any of those, either.”

“Your turn.” He smiles against my fingers, and I laugh.

How did he stomach this? I’m quivering where I sit, half from excitement and half from raw fear. But this fear is beautiful; it’s reminding me this is something I care about most.

“I guess one thing I’ve thought about a lot is that I want to help my kids to not only express their emotions with words, but to also identify their feelings through physical and mental cues. I feel like our generation missed out on that, and it’s something that worries me for my students.”

Noah nods with furrowed brows. “Fuck, yeah, you’re right. That one might be more of your wheelhouse. I really suck at it still.”

“I don’t think so.” Running my fingers through Noah’s hair, I can’t stop smiling. “You’ve shared some really vulnerable things with me in our cuddle balls, my shy Alpha.”

Noah laughs, rubbing his forehead against the back of my wrist. “That’s because I’m more open with you than anyone. Either way, I’d love to get better at expressing how I’m feeling so I can teach them alongside you.”

He kisses my fingers, but I can hardly feel it over the elation vibrating through my chest. He’s saying “them,” as in our future kids.

With a hum, Noah lifts his head. “I have another: I want to try not to expect their lives to look a certain way.”

“What do you mean?”

Noah sits back on one hand, clinging to mine with the other, but he’s still feeling too shy to look at me. He studies my ceiling, rousing my heart muscles with his soothing, deep voice. “I don’t know how to phrase it, exactly. Just that I don’t want to tell them who or what they are, I guess. I felt a lot of pressure as an Alpha, growing up. I don’t want that for them. I don’t want them to think we’d be disappointed if they turn out— Well, different.”

I can tell Noah is tense, even without his wolf pacing in our bond: his shoulders are practically up to his ears. This desire means a lot to him.

Scooting closer, I gently rub the back of his hand. “My shy Alpha, I love that idea.”

When we meet eyes, a spark zaps from my heart to my gut. We break into instant, contagious smiles. And with that, Noah breaks into giggles.

I laugh. “What is it?”

Noah can’t stop giggling. “Nothing. I just haven’t seen you so excited before. It’s making me extra happy.”

My heart swells, threatening to burst. At the same time, it aches. I take a deep breath through my pounding heart muscles, preparing myself to admit the truth. “I’ve never had a partner to share this excitement with before.”

Noah gazes deep into my eyes, giving me a pained sigh. But when his hand releases mine to land on my hip, his thumb tracing over my hip bone, we grow extra quiet.

His touch holds more meaning than I expected it to. Someday soon, he could be pulling me to him by the hips with the intention of getting me pregnant.

My heart flips into my throat at the mere thought. I flush to my neck, no longer able to hold Noah’s focused stare. But as my yearning scent floods the room to meet Noah’s rising Alpha musk, I bite my lips, unsure what to do with myself. Does this mean he wants to try soon-soon? Maybe I’m not actually ready if I can’t even look into his eyes.

But I want to be. I dare to peek back up at him. The second I meet his shy, flustered stare, his hair tousled over one eyebrow as he ducks his chin, I melt in adoration. Stroking his chest, I do my best to extend my soothing scent.

Instead of calming Noah’s breath, his chest rises faster beneath my fingertips.

Noah’s quiet huff breaks the silence. We meet eyes, and his irises are vibrant again—his wolf demanding to be front and center in our bond. Our sudden, sexual desire heightens, building upon itself until there’s no way to ignore it. Even before either of us speaks, the intention is clear; there’s nowhere else for our affection to go except in a fit of passionate sex.

Noah clears his throat. “Do you want to—”

“Yes,” I blurt out.

6

Noah pulls me into his lap. He’s done so a million times, but I suddenly feel like I’m back in college, ready to frantically strip and get right to it for the first time with no clue foreplay exists.

But instead of kissing me, Noah rushes in with a heavy hug. I let out a small breath from the impact, but my eyes flutter in bliss as he gives my whole body a satiating, tight squeeze.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I don’t know what to do with myself again.”

Wrapping my arms around him, I kiss the permanent mark I left on his neck, loving the pleasure-induced thrill it stirs in our bond. “You don’t have to do anything. I love you too, just like this.”

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