Page 51 of Impregnated By the Alpha

“We’ll walk you home,” Adria said, glancing at Spencer for confirmation. He nodded. “I don’t want anyone out in human form alone at night. Not until this guy is caught.”

That would make things difficult. Moira needed to see Jonah. He needed to know what had happened that evening with the Rosewoods. And, she admitted to herself a little reluctantly, she wanted to see him too.

She let the others walk her home and waited for them to leave before shifting and heading off down the street to the cafe, where Jonah lived above it. He answered after two knocks, looking surprised but happy to see her.

“Moira? What are you doing here so late?” He asked, pushing the door open to welcome her in. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. “Come in before you freeze. I just finished dinner, but I can make you a bowl, if you’re hungry.”

Moira swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away from his bare chest. To her surprise, Jonah’s apartment was tidy and had the touches that spoke of a home. It smelled amazing, like roasted squash and cinnamon, and something buttery.

“That wolf attacked Vera tonight,” she said, lingering by his couch. A knit blanket was thrown casually over the corner.

He blanched. “Is she okay? He’s getting bold.”

“She’s fine,” Moira said, “but he caught her in human form, and she’s got a bite on her arm. She’s patching it up herself, of course.”

Jonah chuffed and drew her onto the couch. “Sounds like her. Are you okay? You look pale, and you’re shaking.”

His hands roamed over her arms, up and down, as he forced warmth into them. As always, her body leaped to respond to his touch. She didn’t want to talk anymore or think about the worries biting their heels and the tangle of problems lurking over her shoulder. She just wanted him. Daring, she ran her hands over the smooth planes of his chest and felt his breathing hitch.

When his lips met hers, they were hot and soft and needy, catching her lower lip between his teeth. She straddled him, feeling the hardness of his cock between her legs.

“God, I want you,” he said, grabbing her hips hard, eyes wide when she started to rock back and forth over his length. “it’s all I can think about.”

She needed him and was in no mood to wait, though she liked the strain of desperation in his voice. Freeing his cock, pleased to find he was wearing nothing beneath those sweatpants, she pushed her panties to one side and hitched up her skirt, letting the tip tease her entrance to slick it. When it was wet enough or when she couldn’t stand another second without him inside of her, she sank down on top of him, taking as much of him as she could.

He groaned and tightened his grip on her, fingertips digging into her skin. One of his hands moved to her clit, thumbing the bundle of nerves there in a way that had her shaking, keening out noises she’d never heard from herself before. Jonah bucked his hips up, sinking deeper inside of her until there was no space at all between them.

They moved as one. His thrusts found something deep inside of her that made her clench around him. Jonah’s head dropped back, but his eyes were fixed on her. Her orgasm came suddenly, washing over her in shattering waves. Beneath her, Jonah was not far behind. He pulled her down hard on top of him, sheathing every inch of his cock inside of her before filling her with his seed.

Wrung out, Moira collapsed against his chest. His breathing mirrored her own, unsteady, gasping. As his fingers stroked over her hair and down her back, Moira’s eyes began to close. There was so much to tell him, so much she had to explain, but the world would have to wait a little longer. Wrapped in his cocoon of warmth and safety, Moira slept.

Chapter 17 - Jonah

She was still there when Jonah woke. He could hardly believe the sight of her lying in his bed, the sheets tucked up beneath the pale curve of her shoulder aglow in the morning sun.

While she slept, he started the coffee and prepared breakfast. It was a way to calm his nerves more than anything, the giddiness that threatened to overwhelm his reason. A business deal with benefits, he reminded himself sharply, flipping bacon in the pan. By the time she woke and shuffled, sleepy-eyed and messy-haired, into the kitchen, there was far more food than two people could ever eat.

“Wow.” She blinked and dragged a hand across her eyes. In his t-shirt, the dark shape of her nipples visible beneath the white fabric, she might look the best she ever had. “Is there any army coming over?”

“I cook when I’m nervous,” he admitted, ruffling his curls and handing her a mug of steaming coffee.

She took it and pulled out a chair at the high top, finding a space for it between the platters. “About the alpha stuff?”

He looked sideways as he answered, hesitating. “That’s part of it.”

And the rest of it was right there, in that chair. She made him nervous. That delicate tightrope he had to walk to keep her feeling comfortable in the knowledge that he wouldn’t try to push for more than the arrangement they had even as his heart and body screamed for him to beg for all of her. Better to have the parts of her that he could than to scare her away entirely.

“I have something to tell you,” she said, helping herself to pancakes. “It’s actually why I came over here last night. Not for… that.”

He loved the way she blushed, how it crept up over her cheekbones all the way down to her chest. Jonah listened as she filled him in on the rest of what had happened the night before, gripping his fork so hard the metal dug into his fingers.

“They’re deciding on alpha tonight,” he said after she had finished and lapsed into silence, pushing a forkful of pancake around in a flood of syrup. “I don’t want to scare you, but I think Evans probably wanted to go after you, not Vera. He’s trying to get to me. Punish me for my father’s sins.”

After filling Moira in on everything he’d learned at his father’s house, he recalled the conversation he’d had with the pack elders.

“You have equal claims on alpha,” she’d agreed. “But if Evans is responsible for the tensions with the Rosewoods, he will not be fit for the role. He may have seen it as a way to strengthen our pack, but that was never our way. We are the safe port. The light in the storm.”

It had been years since Jonah had thought of the Silversands in that way, though the lore had been ingrained into him as a young wolf, told through bedtime stories and tales around the lighthouse campfire. Like any good port, they fostered alliances and trade, and did not fear outside packs as many others might. It was not their way. Evans was betraying the pack’s heritage in his bid against Jonah, and it would hamstring him.

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