Page 94 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“Do you know what you do to me?” he asked, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate through my bones. “To all of us?”

His thumbs traced my lower lip, the gentle touch at odds with the fierce possession in his eyes. “The way you look at us. The way you move. The way you yield and fight in the same breath. It drives our wolves mad.”

There was something in his tone—something beyond the physical desire, beyond the mate bond—that made my heart race. But as quickly as I thought I glimpsed it, it was gone, hidden behind the alpha mask he wore so well.

Before I could question it, his mouth was on mine again, this kiss harder, deeper, more demanding than before. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me to the edge of the boulder untilour bodies aligned perfectly, the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against me.

One of his hands slipped under my swim shorts to cup my bare hip, his fingers spanning nearly the entire width of my pelvis, a physical reminder of our size difference that sent a fresh wave of heat through me. His other hand tangled in my hair again, tilting my head to deepen the kiss until I was breathless and dizzy.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, his forehead resting against mine as we struggled to regain control. His hand remained possessively on my hip, thumb tracing circles on the sensitive skin there.

“We should get back,” he said eventually, his voice rough with restrained desire. “Before I forget all the reasons I shouldn’t claim you fully right here.”

The reluctance in his tone made me bold. I leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And what reasons are those?”

A dangerous smile curved his lips, his eyes flashing silver again. “Because when I finally claim you properly, little fox, it won’t be rushed. It won’t be on a beach with sand getting everywhere. And it certainly won’t be where my brothers can’t join us.”

The promise in those words made my breath catch, heat flooding my face and other, lower parts of my anatomy. Cade noticed, of course—those alpha senses missing nothing—and his smile widened, becoming almost predatory.

“Come,” he said, lifting me off the boulder and setting me gently on my feet.

His hand remained at the small of my back as we made our way back to the main beach, the touch both protective and possessive in a way that should have annoyed me but instead made me feel strangely secure.

When we returned to the others, Mochi immediately bounded over to me, circling my legs with excited yips.

“There you are,” Drew said, eyeing us with exasperation. “Let me guess—important alpha business?”

“Something like that,” Cade replied, his hand never leaving the small of my back, thumb stroking small circles against my spine.

“You all are exhausting.” Drew sighed. “Some of us have been figuring it out more than others,” he added with a pointed look at me. “Finn keeps disappearing with at least one of you. Makes a guy feel left out.”

I felt my face heat, but before I could stammer out a response, Vivian laughed.

“Oh, to be young again.” She sighed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just remember, these walls aren’t as soundproof as you might think.”

“Aunt Vivian!” I squeaked, mortified.

She just winked at me, completely unrepentant.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a pleasant blur of swimming, impromptu volleyball matches (which I lost spectacularly), and more snacking from Vivian’s seemingly bottomless cooler. I began sketching without really thinking about it—quick studies of Logan’s profile against the sky, Keir’s laugh, the way Cade’s wet hair fell across his forehead.

“You’re staring again,” Cade observed, catching me in the act of trying to capture the exact angle of his jaw.

“I’m not staring, I’m studying. There’s a difference.”

“Oh?” He moved closer, peering at my sketchbook. “And what are you studying exactly?”

I showed him the page of sketches—his hands, his eyes, the curve of his smile. “The way light hits different planes,” I explained, suddenly shy. “How shadow defines form. The… the things I want to remember.”

Something softened in his expression. He took the sketchbook gently, setting it aside before pulling me into his lap. “You don’t have to remember,” he murmured against my hair. “We’re not going anywhere.”

I let myself believe him. Let myself sink into the moment, into the feeling of being held, wanted, cherished. Drew’s laughter and Aunt Vivian’s voice created the perfect soundtrack, while Keir’s hand found mine in the sand, our fingers linking naturally.

This was real, I thought. This was mine.

By the time we returned to the house, the afternoon was waning. Cade and Logan had to prepare for their council meeting, while Keir had a video call with their European offices. Aunt Vivian insisted on cooking dinner before she left, claiming that “none of you know how to feed yourselves properly.”

Dinner was a lively affair, with Aunt Vivian regaling us with stories of her latest business trip to Milan, where she’d apparently scandalized the Italian branch of Sinclair Industries by out-negotiating their most seasoned executives.

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