Page 21 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

“Relax and let me in,” she urges, her voice a reassuring anchor amidst my uncertainty. Her fingers, delicate yet firm, cradle me gently, and I surrender to her touch, allowing the tension to melt away.

“Do it,” my words coax, and I yield completely, a sense of anticipation stirring within me. A faint tingle dances along my spine as her hands guide me, her presence a calming force enveloping me.

“Okay,” she breathes, drawing nearer until her breath caresses my skin, her hands tenderly framing my face. Her touch is gentle, like a whisper against my skin, as her thumbs trace the contours of my eyebrows. “Close your eyes,” she murmurs, her voice a soft melody that I willingly follow, trusting her implicitly.

I comply, obedient to her guidance, and darkness descends, enveloping me in its comforting embrace. Gradually, light filters through, painting my mind’s canvas with vibrant hues, each shade dancing before me in a mesmerizing display.

And then, he appears—a towering figure, his fiery mane casting a warm glow, his presence commanding and powerful. Grace’s words weave through the colors, filling my heart with a sense of warmth and belonging. In her eyes, I am majestic, a force to be reckoned with—a sight to behold.

“Amazing,” I murmur, captivated by the image before me. “Can you do me a favor?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “Look into the water nearby so I can see you.”

Grace’s gaze shifts, and I follow her lead, my eyes tracing the familiar path through the woods and the garden, the distant sound of the stream growing louder with each step.

“Are you ready?” she inquires, her gaze meeting mine once more, a fleeting glimpse of myself reflected in her eyes before she turns her attention to the stream. And there she stands—a vision of ethereal beauty, her reflection shimmering in the water’s surface.

“You’re stunning,” I breathe, my words tinged with awe as I drink in her beauty. “Even though the word doesn’t do you justice.” A flush of warmth spreads through me at the thought of claiming her as my mate, of basking in her radiance for eternity.

Chapter 13

Grace

-Meant to be- Florida Georgia Line, Bebe Rexha-

I can feel my wolf pacing within me, its energy thrumming beneath my skin, urging me forward as I share my vision with Lorcan. “It will be stronger when you claim him. Easier.” My wolf tells me.

“I know,” I murmur.

The gravel crunches beneath our feet as we approach the guest house, its rustic charm a backdrop to the intensity building between us. Barrett’s nod acknowledges our presence, but my focus is solely on Lorcan as I guide him inside.

“We’re in the guest house,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

“I know.” His response is a husky breath, laden with anticipation. His scent shifts and I can almost taste his desire on the air.

In the dim light of the bedroom, I watch as Lorcan’s hands move with purpose, deftly unbuttoning his shirt. Each button released sends a jolt of electricity through the air, his skin revealed inch by tantalizing inch. The fiery red curls on his chest catch the soft glow, a beacon drawing me closer.

My desire ignites, a primal hunger mirrored in the depths of his gaze. With each garment shed, the tension between us thickens until the air crackles with anticipation.

I shed my clothing, each piece hitting the floor with a soft thud, echoing in the room. He cocks his head, his focus sharpening at the sound, attuned to every movement. The air is heavy with anticipation, thick with desire, and I can practically taste it mingling with the scent of our arousal.

As Lorcan listens, his nostrils flare, catching the scent of our need swirling around us. His voice rumbles low, a primal growl vibrating through the air as he sheds the last remnants of fabric from his body, his movements primal and urgent.

My gaze widens as I drink in the sight before me, the transformation from clothed to bare revealing a body sculpted by years of labor. Whirls of russet hair cascade over his chest, framing the defined muscles beneath. The soft contours of his abdomen draw my eyes downward, tracing the lines of his body to the tempting V that leads to his endowment.

His large shaft stands at attention, thick veins wrap around silken steel. His husky voice draws me closer, and my hands instinctively find their place on his hips, grounding me in the moment.

“Lass? I can hear you breathing. Say something?” His voice is a whisper, yet it reverberates through me, pulling me deeper into the intimacy of the moment.

“You are beautiful. And I am a very lucky female,” I murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Though he can’t see it, I hope he can feel the warmth of my affection. Gently, I guide his hands to my face, letting him feel my happiness radiating through every touch.

My fingertips glide over his warm skin, tracing the contours of his muscles as his breath hitches in response. The weight of his desire presses against me, palpable in the air. His moan, raw and needy, ignites a fire within me, urging me to draw him closer.

“Lass... You’re killing me,” he murmurs against my lips, his words a plea and a confession intertwined. His kiss, soft yet urgent, sends shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that demands to be sated.

I guide him to the bed, feeling the tension in his muscles as realization dawns upon him. A primal sound rumbles from deep within his chest, a warning and a promise of the passion to come.

With a fierce determination, I pull him closer until the edge of the bed meets the warmth of his leg, inviting him into the depths of our shared desire. His response is immediate, a growl vibrating through his being, a testament to the wildness simmering beneath his surface.

Lorcan’s touch trails along my ribs, a sensation both tender and possessive, as he lifts me effortlessly and lays me down on the sheets. His blind eyes, milky and yet somehow seeing, search my form with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

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