Page 101 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

“It’s not a hut,” I say irritably. “It’s my house. And it’s not small; it’s reasonably sized.”

He stands up, and my eyes are inadvertently drawn to him. Cedric is not a short man by any means, but his head isn’t exactly brushing against the ceiling, either. It’s his frame.

Cedric is huge. Years of fighting have built his body to look like a tank. I’ve never admitted it to anyone but myself, but I quite like his bulging muscles. I never knew I had a preference when it came to a man’s physical appearance, but I always enjoyed looking at my mate. I used to watch him from a distance whenever I had the opportunity.

The men in the Eastern Kingdom were built differently than Cedric. Their hands were dainty, and they were well groomed with trim figures. No wonder Vivian considered Cedric and the other Northern wolves to be barbarians. Compared to the Eastern ones, these men are massive in both their human and animal forms.

It’s a similar comparison with respect to the Human Wolf Kingdom. Even Erik. I’ve seen him train, and he has muscles in all the right places, but compared to Cedric, he looks almost frail.

“Why are you staring at me?” Cedric asks bluntly all of a sudden.

My face grows hot, and I quickly turn my attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I’m not. And there’s nothing wrong with my house. You’re just used to castles and other large spaces.”

Cedric comes to stand behind me, and my hands are covered in soapy water when I go still. I can see his reflection in the kitchen window. He seems to be fascinated by my short hair for some reason.

Next thing I know, his chest is against my back, and my mouth turns dry. Suddenly, I can see his point of view. This kitchen is indeed too small for him, for the both of us. His hands are now resting against my hips. “See? There’s no space to move around in here. You should get a bigger house. I’ll build you a castle here. With gardens. You like gardens. I haven’t seen any here.”

I can’t think with his hands where they are. He doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to me anymore, distracted by the lamp hanging from the ceiling, but his large hands are still hot against the curve of my hips.

Swallowing, I try to stay calm. “We do have a garden. It’s called a yard.”

“That small space behind the house?” He blinks. “You call that a garden?”

Bristling, I wipe my hands and turn around to glare at him, ready to say something snappish. How dare he insult my home? “It’s not that small. If you don’t like—”

He looks down at me, and suddenly, I can’t speak. He’s too close. His chest is brushing against mine, and I’m reminded of how he used to hold me in bed, the way he liked folding me over furniture to fuck me with his relentless stamina, his cock moving in and out of me in long, deep strokes till I couldn’t even remember my own name.

I hadn’t known sex could be like that.

How did I forget that?

With how close he’s standing to me, I can’t help but recall those heated nights. After leaving the North, I never once thought about being with another man. That part of my existence was over, as far as I was concerned. I closed that chapter of my life and let it gather dust.

I can smell the musky scent in the air, and to my dismay, so can Cedric. His nose twitches, and when he focuses his eyes on mine, his voice is a heated growl. “Leanna.”

“Stop saying my name.” It’s not helping. Between that and his hands curling around my waist, the wetness in my panties is spreading.

No.

No, if I do this, if I let him cross this line, it’s over. If he gives me the mating mark, all the choices I have, the ones I can still make, will be ripped from me.

“No.” My voice is weak, but my jaw is hard. “No, Cedric.”

He freezes.

I can feel his hardness pressing against my stomach through his pants, and a part of me wants to take it in my hands. I want to spread my legs and—

Cedric has a strained look in his eyes as he takes a step back from me. As soon as he does, relief fills me.

I close my eyes briefly, trying to calm myself. When I open them, he’s about to say something, but I hold up my hand. “I really don’t want to hear it. I—I’m going to take another shower.”

As I walk away, he asks, “What about me?”

“You’re not joining me!” I say quickly, and his eyes widen as we exchange a look, clearly both recalling an evening years ago when I was in the shower. I had just lathered myself up when he walked in.

Slippery bodies, his fingers entering places I didn’t know were allowed, such dark, intense pleasure that I still shiver thinking about it. There was no part of my body he didn’t explore with his thick, slicked-up fingers.

“No!” I growl before turning on my heel and storming to my bedroom.

---