Page 10 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

Grace tilts her head to the side, a silent invitation, before dropping to her hands and knees. The sight of her, vulnerable yet powerful, sends a surge of desire coursing through me. Moving closer, I reach out, my hand tracing the curve of her hips and the soft swell of her ass. The heat between us is palpable, a magnetic pull drawing us together.

And then, in a moment of pure surrender, Grace yields to me completely. She drops into full submission, her trust in me a heady intoxication that ignites every nerve ending in my body. With a primal growl, I give in to the urge coursing through me, losing myself in the raw, unbridled passion of the moment.

I mount my mate swiftly, the urgency of our connection palpable in every movement. As I slip my length deep into her welcoming depths, a rush of sensations overwhelms me. The heat of her body engulfs mine, igniting a fire that courses through my veins. Each slow, deep thrust sends shivers of pleasure rippling across my skin, her essence enveloping me completely.

Her warmth seeps into my soul, filling the empty spaces with a sense of completeness I’ve never known. The submission in her gaze fuels a primal pride within my wolf, his howl echoing in the depths of my being. We move together with purpose, our bodies a symphony of desire, reveling in the deep connection that binds us.

With each stroke, our bond strengthens, weaving us closer together in an unbreakable tether. I can feel her presence deep in my soul, her essence intertwining with mine in a dance as old as time itself. Even our wolves seem to mirror our movements, their primal instincts aligning with our human desires.

Our bond, once the weakest among her five mates, has blossomed and flourished with each passing moment we spend together. With Lorcan’s arrival into our family, Grace made the decision for us to dedicate more time to nurturing our connection. And so, we’ve explored every corner of both alpha houses, our passion igniting the very air around us. From my desk at work to the secluded depths of the woods, we’ve claimed every space as our own, our love leaving its mark on every surface.

The acceptance of the other mates has allowed me to draw closer to her, to immerse myself in her presence in ways I never thought possible. And in doing so, we’ve healed the fractures in our bond, forging a connection that transcends the physical, binding us together in a love that knows no bounds.

My senses are overwhelmed as I drive my knot deep into my mate. Every nerve in my body is alive with sensation, from the tightness in my balls to the pulsing release of my seed into her. I’m locked in place, lost in the primal ecstasy of our connection, feeling the rhythm of our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

As I curl myself over her, my mouth finds her mate mark, and I taste the salty sweetness of her skin, my lips imprinting my claim on her. We writhe and jerk together, chasing the euphoria that washes over us in waves, leaving us breathless and spent.

We fall to the side, tangled in a mess of limbs, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close to me. “I love you,” I whisper against her ear, the words carrying the weight of all my emotions.

I feel her response in the way her body relaxes against mine, her breath coming in ragged pants as she nuzzles into my hand. “I love you too,” Grace pants out, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

“Feel better?” I ask softly, my lips trailing playful nips along her neck, savoring the taste of her skin against my tongue.

“Much,” she replies, her hands running soothingly over my arms, sending shivers down my spine.

Sensing my knot slowly deflating, I gently let it slip free from her body, our connection still tingling between us. “What do you say we go home and have some lunch?” I suggest, pressing a kiss to her cheek and rubbing her ribs affectionately, eager to prolong our intimate moment in the quiet sanctuary of the open meadow.

I help Grace stand up, feeling the warmth of her hand in mine as she steadies herself. As I find her clothing, offering it back to her, our playful banter resumes, punctuated by pokes and tickles. It’s our little game, this race to see who can get dressed first. The loser, of course, is stuck with the dinner dishes.

Dressed and still giggling, we walk back to the house hand in hand, the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet echoing in the quiet evening air. The warmth of Grace’s hand in mine is comforting, a tangible reminder of our renewed bond.

As we approach the house, I decide to share the news weighing on my mind. “I received news that my pack has found the arsonists,” I say, raising an eyebrow as I glance at my mate, searching for her reaction.

“Rogues?” Grace’s voice carries a note of concern, and I shake my head in response.

“No, it was four anarchists from Wolverton. There’s a small faction that’s defected from the main pack. They haven’t aligned with the rogues, but they aren’t aligned with us either,” I explain, watching as Grace’s steps falter. A pang of guilt hits me. She didn’t know about this, and I can see the weight of the news settling on her shoulders. Fuck... I should have prepared her for this.

Grace is frozen in place as she stares at me, her eyes seeming to pulsate with emotion. When she finally speaks, her voice is hollow, detached, as if she’s detached from her own words. “Are they dead?” she asks, her lips forming a firm line.

I can feel the weight of her gaze as she studies me, her eyes moving over my face with a scrutiny that makes me shift uncomfortably. “Yes, they died a horrible slow death, being torn apart by my betas,” I reply, trying to gauge her reaction.

Grace lifts an eyebrow, her expression unreadable, and I feel a pang of unease gnawing at me. Her hand reaches out, gripping my arm gently, and I can sense the conflict raging within her. “Good. Let’s go home,” she says, her voice betraying none of the turmoil I know she must be feeling. But her eyes... her eyes tell a different story.

As we walk, her hand still resting on my arm, I can’t help but notice the tension in her muscles, the stiffness in her stance. Despite her words, she’s not okay, and it’s written all over her, plain as day. Between the recent death of her grandmother and the addition of another mate, her world has been flipped upside down, and she’s struggling to find her footing.

Though I disagree with the idea of pretending everything is alright, for now, if it brings Grace even a shred of peace, I’ll go along with it. We walk in silence, my hand resting lightly on her lower back, a silent gesture of support during her turmoil. But despite the physical contact, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s a world away, her true emotions hidden behind a facade of false composure.

Chapter 7

Grace

-Vigilante Shit- Taylor Swift-

The world feels different now, altered in a way that’s hard to grasp. It’s been two months since Grams passed away, and her absence weighs heavily on my heart, leaving an emptiness that seems to permeate everything around me. I know she wouldn’t want me to drown in sorrow, but finding a way to navigate through this grief feels like an insurmountable task.

“We are okay. It’s okay to be sad,” my wolf’s voice echoes softly in my mind, a gentle reminder amidst the storm of emotions swirling within me.

“I miss her...” I whisper back, the ache in my chest threatening to overwhelm me.

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