Page 27 of Forced By the Alpha

“Grumpy, huh?” He held tight to her hand as they continued their walk around the garden.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

He huffed. It was a rare, quiet morning with the rest of the pack still in bed. She could almost pretend they were the only two there, that their relationship was nothing more complicated than that, a moment of discussion over a turtle’s struggle. The truth was so much more jagged than that.

Guilt plagued Beth’s every step. She was lying to Devon, with her words, her smiles, and her hand clutching his. Letting him believe that she believed his promise.

She wished she could. But she knew better than to trust a White Winter, no matter how tenderly he held her or how badly she wanted to kiss him. So she’d play the part. Sink deeper into the pack until she knew everything there was to know, and then she’d use that to help the Rosewoods destroy them.

“Are you thinking of home?” He asked, surprising her.

They mostly avoided talking about the Rosewoods, the family and friends she’d left behind. Undoubtedly, it was easier for him to pretend that she was there by choice.Always, she wanted to reply.

“Just my friend, Adria.” She looked away, across the line of trees, in the direction of the Rosewood territory. “My best friend. Maybe I could visit her sometime? Just a visit.”

Devon clamped his jaw. But he didn’t say no. “Maybe. In time.”

“With a few White Winter guards at my elbows?” A shadow of pain crossed her face. She knew as well as he did that there was no chance of letting her visit home. They both knew that she’d never come back.

He pulled her to a stop there in the garden, in the shadow of a grand, old oak.

“It’s not forever, Beth. It’s just for now.” Devon held his arms out to her, his back against the tree.

Just for now.Lies fell so easily from his tongue, but she went to him, pressed her head against his chest, and breathed in the scent of her mate as it mingled with the perfume of the garden. Her fingertips skimmed the day-old stubble on his chin. He was warm and solid, and her body melted against his, into the safety promised when held by something so strong. Surely it wasn’t wrong, to live for just a moment in fantasy.

She worked her fingers lower, up under the hem of his shirt. Tracing the scars that crisscrossed his firm chest, his muscular back, she was pleased to hear his soft sigh of pleasure. Her touch grew bolder.

From the hollow of his throat, she drew her fingers down, down, to the button of his jeans. He caught her lips in a kiss as she worked blindly, unzipping his jeans to grab hold of him.

His head lolled back against the tree when she wrapped her fingers around his cock, finding it hard and warm and ready for her. She stroked him slowly, watching his eyelids flutter, and felt a sort of power she’d never felt before, watching this man come undone in her hands.

“Beth,” he begged, when she kept that steady pace, not giving him a bit more than she wanted to. “Beth, please.”

His hips bucked, pushing himself into her hands. She shook her head, denying him, and he growled in frustration. Suddenly, he was gripping her, his hands cupping her ass to spin them, pressing her back against the tree.

Now, she was his to torment. He held one hand on the back of her head to pillow her, and the other worked under her shirt, flicking lightly over her nipple until it hardened for him. She gasped when he pulled her shirt up, exposing her breasts to the cool air, but his mouth was there to cover them a heartbeat later. His tongue mimicked his finger’s work, and soon she was arching against him, moaning into his ear.

She let her thumb drag over the head of his cock, catching the slick there. He wanted her so badly, it made her thrum with a responding ache. It was all she could do not to shove her own jeans down and take him inside her then and there.

Her short skirt had ridden up, exposing her panties. Devon touched her there, over them, feeling the soaked fabric. He let out a groan like a man dying of need, then slipped his fingers underneath.

Beth panted, gripping his shoulder to keep her legs from buckling. He dragged a finger up through her wetness, then rubbed it lightly over her clit, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She bit her lip to keep from crying out when he sunk first one, then a second finger inside her.

The feel of her around squeezing tight and hot around him undid him. His cum roped across her arm, her stomach, her hand.

“Fuck,” he groaned, dropping to his knees, fingers still deep inside of her.

He pushed her panties to one side, and before she could protest, his tongue was there, lapping at her clit as his fingers worked in and out. Her fingers knotted in his hair, and it was her turn to buck against him, past the point of caring if it was too much. She couldn’t keep in her cry when her orgasm hit, crashing over her in a wave that turned her legs to jelly.

Chest heaving, she pulled him to his feet and draped her arms around him, lazy and warm, tingling.

“Do you think anyone heard that?” She mumbled into his neck.

He laughed, low and throaty. “It could’ve been anything. A bird. A bear. No one will know.”

She let out a whine of protest when he pulled away, planting kisses on the top of her head.

“I was basking there,” she said, pouting.

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