Page 44 of The Alpha's Arranged Bride

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know,” she gasped out honestly.

“You’ve never taken a cock there?”

She shook her head. But suddenly an image flashed through her mind of him doing just that, the way he already made her feel, she was sure she would enjoy it quite a lot, even if it hurt, and god, when she imagined him fitting his massive cock there and splitting her apart, she imagined it would indeed hurt.

He gave a dark chuckle, a noise that made her already swollen clit throb in anticipation. His finger circled her hole again. She shivered at the foreign sensation. “It would be a first for me too.”

She cranked her head around, trying to get a glimpse of his face. With what she’d seen happening at that mating celebration on his pack lands, she could hardly believe there was nothing he hadn’t experienced.

“Now?”

His finger pressed against her hole, but not painfully. He didn’t push past her limits without her wanting it. It struck her that he might even make her beg for it. She would. She’d beg in any way and any form he wanted.

“Whenever. Today. Tomorrow. Years from now. Not until you’re sure you want me.”

“I am sure I want you, Agnar.”

“I meant here,” His finger circled her again.

Jesus god, there were so many nerves back there that she had no idea even existed. Her hips bucked forward at the sensation, and she moaned when her clit made contact with the table. She felt like she was back on those herbs again. Needing and drunk and dizzy at even the anticipation of pleasure.

“But first I want to fill your cunt.”

Fuck, she didn’t know if it was the language he was using, or the fact that she was so turned on she was about to explode, but right now all she could think about was having him inside her. It wasn’t fear that made her turn her face back to him again. “I’d like it if we… if you—you’ll think it’s stupid, I know, but I want to see your face. I want to be able to touch you.”

“Because you’re scared of the loss of control?”

“No. Because for me, for both of us, I want to be able to touch and hold you. I want to see you.”

He looked confused, but he stopped, lifting his hands from her ass. Her skin burned where he’d touched, and she longed to feel him again. She twisted around so she was sitting upright. When she reached for him, he caught her wrist. His grasp was unmerciful, but then he moved his thumb to her pulse point. She placed her other hand on his heart, absorbing the heat pouring off his massive body through the worn fabric of his shirt.

“I break things. I shatter them. I’ve taken lives. If someone ever threatened you or the boys, I’d take more yet. I’m like a landmine waiting to go off. One day, I probably will. I’ll annihilate the good in my life. I’ll be the one to hurt you.”

“No.” She shook her head, but she realized these weren’t just idle threats and he wasn’t trying to warn her off or scare her away. He truly believed these things. For him, this was his version of feeling, of cutting his chest open and offering her his heart. She picked up on the barely perceptible tremble in his hand still clasping her wrist. “No, Agnar.”

She brought her hand to his jaw and pulled him to her as she surged up and off the table, wrapping her legs around his waist. The hardness of him pressed right at her core and her body chased the sensation, hips automatically rolling forward, grinding against him, seeking pleasure. He collared her and held her up with his other arm.

He kissed her, but not like before. The ice in him thawed, the demons resting, at least for a short time. He didn’t stop at her mouth. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her jaw, before coming back to her lips. There was a brutal force held in check behind it, but that was his sweetness.

“Fuck.” He took her with him, carrying her towards the bedroom they shared and falling back onto the bed with her legs still wrapped around him. She was on top of him and gazed down at the man beneath her.

There was nothing more real than this moment. Agnar had never been something he wasn’t. There was no cloak of power, nothing to disguise his anguish. He’d never been taught to properly feel or how to express it, but he did it without knowing that he was doing it. He was more real and had more emotions than most people probably did.

She put one palm behind his head. Touching the nape of his neck was like putting her mouth to his throat. He let her do it, staring back at her with wariness.

“It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to be heartbroken. Anything and everything from despair to joy, I want it. I want all of you, even your cruelty. I’m not afraid. Not afraid to have you right now and I’m not afraid to be your mate in the future. I’m not scared of what’s coming. Ugly or beautiful, we’ll share it together.”

“Fuck,” he hissed again, bringing his forehead to hers. His nostrils flared with the effort to keep himself in control.

There was the slightest hesitation, like he was making an agreement with himself. He’d wanted her, desired her, he’d been ready to share this, but he had wanted her in a position where they weren’t face-to-face, or heart to beating heart. He wanted her close and wanted to be close, but he didn’t know how. All he knew was how to hold himself apart and keep his distance.

“Take me out,” he rasped, like his throat was painful.

He hadn’t asked her to, but she grasped his shirt by the collar and pulled, tugging insistently until he lifted his arms and gave her what she wanted. His bare skin. She thought she was prepared for the sight of his scarred beauty, but she was wrong. It hit her like the explosion he promised. He was so solid and warm. He had the body of a fighter, and every scar made her ache, but his raw, powerful size also made her throb and writhe. He moaned as she rubbed against his cock.

She didn’t trace any of his scars. As she shuffled back, her hands were busy undoing his belt and unbuttoning those black fatigues that comprised his entire wardrobe then she reached into his boxers and her hand closed around his shaft.

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