Page 157 of Ruled By The Alpha

She turned the name over in her mind, wishing she could try it out loud, but not wanting to disclose how much her tongue longed to explore those two lush syllables. Packing her rogue desires away, she fixed her eyes on his shoulder and stepped close to the bed, determined to mask how affecting this conversation was turning out to be.

“Lift your shoulder, please, if you still want me to scratch it,” she said, hiding her discomfort except for the smallest of wobbles on the wordscratch.

Without comment, he did as directed, and Rosemary took a quick, steadying breath. Resting her left hand on the bedframe, she pitched forward, slipping her right hand under his shoulder cap. His skin, warmer than it had any right to be, tingled on her fingertips. Hurriedly her fingers curled, nails clawing and scratching at his firm flesh.

An emphatic moan vibrated through Samson’s chest and into her hand, the tone of it ripe with satisfaction, appreciation, and something decidedlycarnal. Papa had groaned as thecancer ate at his bones, but the sounds Samson made had nothing to do with pain.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed. The hiss of his words caressed Rosemary’s face, and the humid moisture condensed on her skin like a physical touch. Again her lower belly tightened with a fresh, mortifying burst of liquid from her sex. Heat suffused her cheeks as she caught the sweet hint of her own scent in the air. This close to him, there was absolutely no way he could miss it, but he was too preoccupied with his enjoyment to take note.

“A little closer to the middle,” he said, pulling his shoulder up until the skin blanched on either side of the restraint.

Rosemary leaned farther over, her palm curving over the upper contour of his torso, midway between his neck and shoulder, in order to reach the accursed itch. Sweat prickled on her hairline, whether from the vigorous effort she was putting into this, or the continued embarrassment of her sex leaking like a faulty pump handle. She redoubled her efforts, covering large stretches of his broad back by touch alone, hoping to finish the job before anything got out of hand. Ormoreout of hand.

“Is that good enough?” she asked, sounding breathless. Her hand and wrist and forearm wedged underneath the massive bulk of his torso, Rosemary had a moment of panic—if he wanted to, he could very well pin her arm there with his size and strength.

Not that he seemed inclined to mischief at the moment; he was too busy voicing his appreciation for her efforts. “Good girl, Rosemary… Now just a bit lower and you’ll be there… ah…” He strained as ifhewere putting forth effort. “Toward the center… Almost… A bit more… Yes! Rightthere.”

Her fingers ceased their exploring, concentrating on the elusive patch of skin in question. Nails digging in, sharp and determined, she scratched and scratched until jolted by a warm mouth sealing itself to her neck.

Rosemary froze, her nervous system singing in a tumultuous cacophony of confusion and sensation. Hismouthwasonher, sucking and delivering the tenderest of nips from some very sharp teeth. The soft grazing of teeth released her, only to be followed by a bold and heated caress with what had to be his tongue, licking its way up her throat.

Samson moaned again, louder and more emphatic, and having nothing to do with her scratching abilities as she had ceased any and all of those. It buzzed against her skin, zinging pleasure straight to her fully awakened core. Rosemary’s body refused to move, locked in place by shock and surprise, the singularpleasureknocking her over.

Unconcerned with her lack of scratches, Samson’s mouth moved faster and faster, as ifhungry,as ifstarving.She dared not move, fully ensnared as heat spread along her throat, trailing his efforts. Not the heat of embarrassment, but a heat that skipped its way down to her chest and coalesced in the erect tips of her breasts. A heat that prickled and curled and made her arch her neckintohis ministrations when she ought to be jerking away.

Yet her body refused to comply. Her body wasn’t her own, having wholeheartedly given itself up to this strange man—this mysteriousSamson—and his adept mouth that feasted on her neck like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Samson,” she breathed, the word a yielding and a plea all at once.

“Give me your mouth,” he rumbled against her skin, and Rosemary’s lust-foggy brain stumbled over the command.Give him her mouth? Like… for her to taste him like he tasted her? Her tongue immediately flooded with saliva at the prospect of tasting his strong, muscled neck. Is that what he wanted?

Confusion dispelled the enchantment she’d been under and her body remembered how to move. She drew back and stood again.

What had just happened?

“Where are you going?” Samson demanded, his eyes flashing golden-green fire. “I want to kiss you.”

Kiss.

Of course, he wanted tokiss.She knew about kisses—she’d just never had someone demand one from her. Parted and moist, his wide lips beckoned like a siren’s song, jamming her head with wild, unanswered questions. What would they taste like? How would they feel? Moist and disgusting? Or soft and sensuous?

But no,wait. She wasn’t supposed to be kissing him. Her feet shuffled a few steps backwards, tripping over Toby, who glued himself to her calves at every inconvenient moment. In the excitement, she hadn’t noticed until she tipped backwards, walloping on her bottom with anoof.

“Christ!” Samson strained against the ties. “Are you all right?”

Butt stinging, Rosemary rubbed her hand over her brow, gathering up her scattered dignity. Toby sniffed at her face and she gently pushed him away, feeling judged by his look of doggy disdain.

“Rosemary,” Samson said again, his tone pitched low and serious. “Did you hurt yourself?”

She lifted her face, her heart bouncing a woozy pitter patter at what she saw written in his features. Not lust or command or domination, but a tender, heart-rendingconcernthat did weird things to her insides.

“I’m fine.” Rosemary shook her head, strands dislodging from her braid and sticking to her heated cheeks. The taut line of Samson’s body slumped a degree and a wisp of a relievedsigh left his lips. “Toby trips me all the time. Usually when I’m distracted,” she muttered as an afterthought.

His lips, still reddened and puffy, flexed upward. “And that…” His eyes roved and lazily appraised her lips, her shoulders, her breasts. “…distracted you?”

Rosemary could’veswornher face went up in flames, yet she couldn’t break away from his intoxicating stare. Something intense flared through his entrancement, and communication unlike any other flashed back and forth between them. His: smug, sensual, determined. Hers: fearful, wary, intrigued.

“Rosemary.” His voice dipped so deep in timbre it approached an animalistic growl. The sound reverberated through her, and if she hadn’t already been on the floor, her legs would’ve given out. “Listen to me carefully.YourOmega wantsmyAlpha. Your body is announcing it loud and clear.”

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