Page 74 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Tonight,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it tonight.”

I rock my hips slightly, feel the head of his cock press against my entrance. Reyes’ breath catches in his throat, he grasps my neck and pulls me against him.

Yes…right there.

Just like that.

I sink down on him with a groan, taking his full length. Reyes unleashes a primal growl, his teeth grazing over my neck. I’m tempted to tell him to bite me, but I know we should be careful; if we’re going to meet with the Homesteaders tomorrow, I don’t want them to see the mark on me.

“Not there,” I gasp, rolling my hips. His knot is dangerously close to slipping inside, and I know we won’t be able to untangle once it penetrates me. I yank my top down to reveal my breasts, and gesture over my heart. “Here. I want you to bite me here.”

His hands are still at his sides, not touching, just like I told him. His hips twitch to thrust into me, though, and I let myself rise and fall to build delicious friction. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes.”

His teeth are sharp as they graze my flesh, his touch always gentle even when he knows he’ll cause me pain. He doesn’t know I revel in it—that I like a little pain with my pleasure. I tangle my fingers in his thick salt and pepper hair, giggling a little at the way his beard tickles my sensitive flesh. “Do it, darlin’,” I groan. “I want it. I…I like it.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs.

His teeth press hard, then sink just barely into my flesh. My pussy throbs and clenches around him, and I start riding him in earnest as he lathes the bite with his tongue, stemming any blood flow. I keep his head pressed to my breast, and the pain makes me euphoric.

He pulls away, lips red with my blood. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growls.

“So are you,” I breathe.

I kiss him, taste my blood on his lips. The slap of our bodies together fills the stable, my knees stinging from the points of hay biting into them, denim rough on my inner thighs. Reyes is careful not to knot me, but I want it…God, I want it so bad I can hardly breathe.

“Come for me, Tilda,” he commands, jaw clenched. “I’m right on the brink. Come for me–”

I come fast and hard, pulsing around him just as I feel him tumbling over the edge. He comes deep inside me, continuing to thrust, cum dripping down his shaft and coating my inner thighs with our mixed arousal. Half-dressed and flushed with lust, we hold each other tight, where anyone could see.

I take a deep breath, inhaling him, dragging my nose up his jaw. His hands find my ass and he pulls me up and down his shaft one more time, making us both groan.

He’s still inside me when I lean forward, resting my chin on his shoulder. He holds me close, fingers gliding up and down my spine.

“If you keep coming onto me like this, I’m not sure if we’ll ever even be able to leave the den,” he murmurs.

I smile into the crook of his neck. “That doesn’t seem all that bad.”

25

REYES

It’s easy to lose myself in the haze of Tilda’s presence, the pleasure she stirs in me making it hard to focus on the harder truths. But those truths don’t disappear, and one of them is this.

I have to tell the pack.

And not everyone will be happy about my decision.

When we walk into the community center for dinner, Tilda tucked against my side with my arm wrapped protectively around her, I can feel the weight of every gaze in the room. The scrape of chairs and low murmur of conversation falls silent as we enter. My eyes immediately seek out the people I’m most concerned about. Frankie is at one of the long tables, her expression a careful mask, but the tight set of her jaw and her crossed arms give her away. She doesn’t look pleased.

Will sits a few chairs down from her, his posture casual, but I can tell he’s on edge. Frankie and Will don’t get along on the best of days, and this is bound to add fuel to that fire. I’ve always suspected Frankie sees Will as a potential threat, especially since he’d likely be next in line if something happened to me. I don’t know exactly how the transfer of power works—it’s not like we have a guidebook—but if it comes down to strength, Will would inherit the mantle.

That is, unless Frankie challenged him. And if I know anything about her, it’s that she wouldn’t hesitate.

I glance down at Tilda as we move through the room, her hand gripping my arm lightly but firmly, as if she can sense the tension. Her shoulders are squared, her head held high. She’s ready for this, even if I’m not sure I am.

The pack watches us with wary curiosity, some faces unreadable, others showing flashes of surprise, uncertainty, and even quiet approval. But it’s Frankie’s reaction I keep coming back to—the sharp glint in her eye, the barely restrained energy in her movements. Whatever she’s thinking, it’s not good.

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