Page 43 of The Alpha Wolf's Pregnant Bride

Instinctively, I reach out and follow the line, breath hitching in my throat when my fingertip meets the stained spot on the crotch of his boxers.

My unsteady breathing prompts him to remove the single item that keeps him modest. Watching me through hooded eyes, he slips the boxers down, his rigid, distended erection springing free from its confines.

Gasping, all I can do is marvel at his member, the bulbous tip dripping with glistening slick. My heart thumps with anticipation as he slowly tends to the button and zip on my jeans, peeling down the layers. Each movement is fluid and natural as I buck my hips up, and he pulls my jeans and underwear swiftly off my hips. He lifts my legs and places my knees on his shoulder to fully expose me, kissing my ankle before softly drawing my thighs apart.

He climbs back over me, eyes heady pits of desire as he takes his cock in his hand, then smooths the pad of his thumb across the crown, then lines the tip at my aching hole.

My walls clench around nothing as I anticipate the stretch. A flicker of fear skitters through my chest, and Cyrus catches my gasp and then stares deeply into my eyes with gentle conviction.

“This might hurt a little,” he says. “I'm gonna be as gentle as I can, okay?”

His gentle concern touched my heart as I am shown a different side of the man. There's something so caring and genteel about him, and it moves me.

Nodding slowly, I slide my palms over his muscular shoulders. “I trust you, Cyrus,” I whisper. My faith in him is rewarded with a passionate, toe-curling kiss that distracts me long enough for him to enter the enclosure of my womanhood.

Slowly, he inches his cock between my walls, and the stretch is as delicious as it's smarting. My nails bite into his shoulder blades while I take my focus off the dull ache and instead follow the culminating pleasures beyond the pain. When he's deep inside, his throbbing cock nestled against my g-spot, he breaks the kiss and stares deeply into my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I nod slowly into his palm when he cradles my cheek, the intricacies of pleasure outweighing the burning sensation of the stretch. When I wiggle beneath him, the slight movement proffers the kind of friction that I need right now.

“I'm fine…” I whimper. “I need—” my voice breaks off abruptly. I don't know what I need, except that I need it. Cyrus seems to understand and slowly begins to draw his hips back, then languidly thrusts back into me.

Each stroke is purposeful, adding to the pleasure that builds up in the pit of my belly and coils into the tightest knot. When he reaches between our bodies and presses firm circles over my clit with the pad of his thumb, blood rushes to my bundle of nerves, and I think I'm about to pass out.

“Cyrus! Please! I can't!” I scream, but my body betrays me as I match his thrusts, bucking my hips in tune with his. I want more; Ineedmore.

I think I'm going crazy.

“Look at me,” Cyrus ordered, holding my chin to keep my face steady as he stared determinedly into my eyes. It's like he's seeing my soul, as bare and exposed as my body is beneath him. “I'm gonna come,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “I need you to come with me, okay?”

I nod ardently, gripping his shoulders more tightly as I comply. I let out the breath I'd been holding on as his thrusts became firmer until he groaned and spilled thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside me. When his strokes become shallower, it's the pace I need to leap off the edge of the cliff of my climax.

His arms slink around me, pulling me to the side as we ride out the high together. Breath coming in hot pants, our chests heaving in unison, my body slumps in his arms.

Spent and sated, the stars that flicker behind my eyelids make up the prettiest constellation I've ever experienced. My body feels amazing, every nerve enlightened by the fullness I just felt.

I'm about to lift my head from his arm when a buzzing sound fills my ears. My eyelids fly open only to notice that he's staring sternly at the night sky.

“...They're on the north border, Alpha! We're giving chase!”

In a split second, Cyrus sits upright and pulls me up by the arm.

“Quick…” he says with urgency in his voice, grabbing my clothes in a bundle and shoving it into my arms. “Get dressed.”

“Cyrus, what's going on?” I ask, confused by his sudden shift to seriousness, his brows sharpened like blades cast abovehis eyes. All I caught was the short end of Dante's warning, but I'm not sure what's going on.

“Just get dressed and go home, Cassandra,” he commands flatly. Gone is any trace of the passion we just shared, replaced by the urgency that has him hastily pulling his pants up his legs.

“Will you tell me what's going on?” I ask through the fabric of my sweater as it slides over my head. Panic rises, raising the pace of my beating heart.

“The rogues are upon us,” he reveals, followed by a string of curses under his breath. Facing the edge of the cliff, he runs a hand through his hair and grunts when howling wolves can be heard faintly in the distance.

Rogues?

The ones I overheard him speak about the other night?

“I don't understand, Cyrus…”

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