Page 23 of The Alpha Under My Bed

Because the drugs weren’t perfect. If she ever remembered—if recognition ever flickered behind those heat-dazed eyes—I couldn’t risk her knowing.

Not until it was too late.

I pulled my hoodie over my head, discarding it carelessly onto the chair by the door. My jeans followed, kicked aside as I moved forward—toward the only place I belonged.

Her nest.

She lay sprawled across it, barely visible beneath the thick layers of blankets, lost in the heavy fog of heat.

Mine.

The thought echoed deep, reverberating through my ribs, through my chest.

I slipped into the nest beside her, the warmth of it soaking into my skin, into my bones. She stirred, a soft whimper escaping her lips, her body shifting toward me instinctively—seeking out the warmth, the relief she couldn’t find. She had no idea I was here.

I exhaled slowly, settling in, pressing closer, feeling the slow, steady pulse of heat that radiated off her. This was it—the beginning of the end.

She wasn’t leaving this heat unclaimed.

And she sure as fuck wasn’t leaving it unbred.

Eight

MALCOLM

Ellie wasthe most breathtaking creature I had ever seen—her skin flushed, glistening with sweat, every inch of her radiating heat. Her dark hair spilled around her in wild disarray, a halo against the sheets. Her glasses lay discarded on the side table, forgotten in her desperation. Perfect.

She had no idea. No idea that every movement, every breath she took, only fed the hunger clawing inside me. That my restraint was a fragile thing, fraying at the edges with every soft whimper that spilled from her lips. That my presence here, masked and hidden, was the only thing keeping the truth at bay until the time was right.

Her hand moved between her legs, fingers sliding through the slick evidence of her need. The scent of her arousal hit me like a gut punch—thick, intoxicating, utterly fucking perfect. My cock throbbed in response, a raw, visceral ache that demanded satisfaction.

A growl rumbled low in my throat, muffled by the mask that shielded me—a barrier between the man she thought she knew and the alpha who was about to claim what was his.

She needed me. Not the soft, tempered affection she believed was enough, but something deeper, something undeniable. The kind of need only I could satisfy.

“Shh, sweet girl,” I murmured, stepping closer, my voice dark with promise. My hands found her wrists, firm but gentle as I pulled them away from her cunt. “Let me take care of you.”

Her hazel-green eyes were hazy with heat, pupils blown wide, but I caught the flicker of surprise as I maneuvered her, guiding her effortlessly into my grasp. Her thighs draped over my shoulders, soft and warm, her breath catching as I pressed her wrists into the nest beneath her, pinning her in place. My grip tightened—just enough to remind her. She wasn’t in control anymore.

I lowered my head, inhaling deeply. And fuck.

Her scent hit me like a freight train, searing through every last ounce of restraint I had left.

She was intoxicating. A drug I had craved for too long.

A drug that belonged to me.

The first taste was a revelation.

Sweet, with a hint of something deeper—something that was purely Ellie. Her slick coated my tongue, a delicacy I wanted to savor forever.

My moan vibrated against her sensitive flesh, and she jerked in my hold, a keening whimper escaping her lips. I lapped at her, long, slow strokes that had her squirming, her hips canting up, seeking more.

It had been too long since I’d tasted her like this, too long since I’d had her spread out before me, completely at my mercy.

I was drunk on her—my entire world narrowing down to the woman beneath me and the wet, needy sounds she made as I feasted on her pussy.

I released her wrists, letting her have some semblance of control, even though there was no escape from this—from me. She immediately reached for me, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer as she rode my face.

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