Page 83 of The Alpha's Forced Rejected Mate

“And you’re obsessed with your research.”

I rolled my eyes. “I want to get to the bottom of this demon thing. If I’m an heiress to an estate because of my bloodline and the demons came afterme, then I need to know why. I need to know what’s in my blood to make that happen.”

Cliff grabbed my hand. “I’ll be by your side the whole way through.”

“Me, too,” Jillian said while placing her hand over ours. “I’ll help as much as I can. As long as I’m hydrated.”

I giggled. “I should hydrate, too.” I focused on Cliff with a look of yearning. “We have a long night ahead of us…”

***

The blood of my ancients circulated my body, reminding me of my true nature. I wasn’t just a wolf shifter—I was a wolf princess, a guardian of the Wildtooth Tails whose fate was entwined with that of my Alpha, my husband.

My mate.

Inside me lived every affectionate molecule that existed for him. As he smoothed his hands over my waist and bowed to the ground to kiss my stomach, I rested my hand on the back of his neck and listened to the peaceful silence of our home. Long gone were the sounds of celebration. What remained was the subtle creek of the house against Maine’s insistent wind, the tick of the clock, and the shuffle of clothes.

The tulle of my skirt rustled, and then a cool draft drifted over my thighs. “Take your dress off.”

I did as he instructed, exposing the thin satin thong I wore for our ceremony. The tiny bow on the front shimmered in the dim light spilling in from the kitchen. That very same light revealed his pleased smile, followed by a glimmer of lust in his eyes as he gazed up at me.

Eyes locked. Pupils blown. Irises sparkling.

We were playing our secret game. I wasn’t sure precisely when it started, but I knew breaking eye contact now would lead to an unmerciful demise. The last time I lost a round of staring with my mate, I ended up in a three-hour edging session that ended with me losing my mind for a good twenty minutes once I finally came. Though if anybody could handle his games, it was certainly me.

It would always be me.

He extended his tongue without blinking, slowly applying the tip to the outline of my slit without even searching for it.One confident stroke was enough to undo the glue that held my hips still. I bucked right into his mouth, urgently chasing lick after lick as I clutched his head tightly to me. Each thrust led to a bigger mess. That same mess was now soaking my thighs and making them slick, making it hard to keep my body in the same position as he teased my clit with a slurp.

Without breaking eye contact, he dug beneath the fabric of my thong to lap my wet folds, keeping a strong grip on my hips with the robes pinned there. The extent of his strength and endurance was incredible—and part of me was eager to push his buttons, to see how far he would take me.

But another part of me wanted to win this game. I doubled down my staring, only blinking when it was absolutely necessary and sharpening my gaze each time I did it. He stroked my slit apart and dove for my entrance, plunging his tongue into the wet arousal mixed with his saliva.

My lips quivered as I whimpered against the tide of his plunge. Quick licks demanded my bucks shorten, tightening my grip on the back of his head to keep him from so much as taking a breath. I didn’t want him to stop, even as I yearned for other things. Even as I desperately craved his cock to drill me into a state of chaos.

I gritted my teeth while trying to keep my eyes focused on his eyes, watching the way his mirthful grin crinkled his eyelids and curved the almond shape of his eyes. He knew just how to make me wiggle. And I knew I would lose soon if I didn’t clamp down on the urge to throw my head back.

With great strain, I managed to pull his mouth away from my slit, gasping for air as I pushed him back on the ground and mounted him. All the while, our eyes remained locked, and my peripheral vision became a frenzy of movement as I yanked hisrobes up to reveal his hardened cock. The thick shaft bounced between my thighs, teasing my clit with light taps that made me bite my lower lip.

I raised my hips and perched his cock at my entrance. “What happens if neither of us breaks eye contact?”

His eyes widened with mischief. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

I sheathed him an inch, triumphant by the sight of him ever-so-subtly twitching in response. He gripped my thighs and held me still, teasing me with a short thrust that made me shudder.

I struggled to hold myself up, my muscles aching from standing so long. “Does that mean the end of the game?”

He smirked as he thrust hard, sending a shock of pleasure to my nipples. “No, it just means the game gets better…”

As he dug his fingers into my hips, I let my attention drift to the hard planes of muscle meeting my bottom, the desperation in his grip, and the way his stony stomach felt under my palms. Sweat coated our hot bodies, a steamy heat that boiled me up from the inside out. Looking into my mate’s eyes like this as he plowed between my legs was intimidating.

Yet I couldn’t get enough of it.

I used to think closing my eyes made my senses stronger, but I was rapidly discovering it was quite the opposite. With my full visual attention on Cliff’s eyes, every other sensation intensified. My nipples hardened against the cool air that drifted down my center to where Cliff plunged into my entrance. Arousal soaked my folds and slicked his entry, making my responsive bucks slippery and sloppy.

His strong hands massaged a path to my hips, over my waist, and to my breasts that longed for his bruising touch. The way his pupils swallowed his irises made him look demonic for a second, a fear that lashed through me and nearly made me look away. Cliff paused mid-thrust, holding me steady with one hand on my shoulder to keep me from moving.

“Breathe,” he instructed, “go on—that’s it—keep breathing—”

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