Page 12 of Whisper of an Alpha
The air around us crackles with anticipation, and I can feel the pull of our destinies intertwining. We move together, a synchrony of bodies and souls as we prepare for this moment that will bind us in ways I can’t yet comprehend.
Wyatt leans in, capturing my lips once more, and I melt into him, my heart racing as I feel the heat of his body against mine. He whispers promises of forever, and I lose myself in the rhythm of our kisses. Each touch, each caress, sends electric sensations coursing through me, heightening my senses until I feel dizzy with desire.
As the kiss deepens, I feel my wolf instincts rising, the need to mark him becoming more urgent. My senses sharpen, and I can feel the pull of his essence, the way he calls to me in ways I never knew were possible. He starts to swell, and I think his knot is forming because his hips are barely separating from mine now.
“Wyatt,” I gasp, breaking the kiss, and I can see the wildness in his eyes. “Now.”
He nods, a primal look crossing his features as he leans in closer. I can feel the heat radiating off him, and as our lips meet again, I feel something shift within me. My wolf instincts surge, and I know that this is the moment we’ve both been waiting for.
With a quick movement, I sink my teeth into his shoulder, a sharp bite that sends a thrill through my entire being. At the same time, I feel his teeth graze my skin, a gentle but firm pressure that ignites every nerve ending in my body. In that instant, the world explodes around us — fireworks of the sensation of what I know is the best orgasm known to all mankind, of the bond that is sealing us together.
I can feel the energy between us swirling, a powerful force that envelops us as we both release our marks, our essences intertwining in a way that feels ancient. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure cascading through me as I lose myself in him, in this moment that feels like it’s been written in the stars.
Wyatt gasps, and I can feel his grip on my hip tighten as the waves of ecstasy crash over us again, each pulse bringing us closer together. I can see the realization dawning in his eyes — the completeness of what we’ve just done, the bond we’ve forged that can never be broken.
For the first time since I met him, Wyatt looks whole, and it fills me with a sense of triumph. We are bound, fated to one another in a way that transcends everything else.
As the last waves of pleasure recede, I pull back slightly, brush his long hair away from his face, looking into his green eyes. They’re filled with a mixture of awe and desire, a reflection of everything we’ve just shared.
“Octavia,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I never knew. I never thought?—”
“I know,” I reply softly, my heart swelling with affection. “But you’re the only one I want. The only one I need. I love you Wyatt Saltman.”
He brushes a thumb across my cheek, and I can see the promise in his gaze. “And I’ll be the only one for you. I love you Octavia Bellmont, soon to be Saltman. Forever.”
We lean in for another kiss, this one softer, more tender, filled with the weight of everything that has just transpired. As our lips meet, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together — the undeniable bond that has just been sealed between us.
In this moment, surrounded by the remnants of our connection, I feel an overwhelming sense of hope.
6
THE FUTURE IN-LAWS
Octavia
The sun streamsthrough the window, casting a warm glow on the soft sheets tangled around me. I blink, momentarily disoriented as the events of last night flood my memory. The marking, the raw need that brought Wyatt and me closer than I ever thought possible. He’s still asleep beside me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, a peaceful look on his face that makes my heart swell.
The smell of something sweet wafts through the air, pulling me from the cocoon of warmth. Curiosity piques, and I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him. My heart skips as I catch sight of a single purple rose resting on the bedside table, its velvety petals inviting and rich in color. Next to it, a small plate holds chocolate croissants, warm and flaky, their rich aroma mixing delightfully with the rose’s fragrance.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Wyatt’s deep voice rumbles from behind me, drawing my attention. I turn to find him propped up on one elbow, his skin glowing in the morning light, tousled hair falling over his forehead. A smile spreads across his face, andmy cheeks flush. “I snuck down to the kitchen to grab breakfast about an hour ago. Thought you might like something sweet to start the day.”
I can’t help but grin at him, the warmth of his presence enveloping me. “You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, my voice still a little raspy from sleep.
Wyatt chuckles, those deep green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I wanted to. Besides, these croissants remind me of how sweet you taste.” The teasing lilt in his voice sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
We eat,enjoying the quiet moment together and Wyatt surprises me with another request. “How about a shower? We could start the day off together, just like last night.”
A wave of nerves washes over me, even after the sensual night that bound us. I nod, trying to play it cool, but I can feel my cheeks burning. “Uh, sure. That sounds great baby.”
The shower is a cascade of warmth and an odd security. We wash away the remnants of sleep, sharing soft touches and lingering glances. I try to focus on the water cascading down my body, but my mind drifts to the mark on my neck, the bond we’ve sealed. Wyatt’s presence is a constant, his hands brushing against my skin as he reaches for the shampoo, the intimacy of it all both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.
After we clean up, I step out, feeling refreshed yet anxious. As I rummage through his closet for something to wear, I can feel Wyatt’s gaze on me, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. I settle on a deep maroon and black plaid shirt of his, layeringit over my cream V-neck sweater, paired with my favorite black ripped jeans. Something about wearing his clothes makes my heart race.
Wyatt walks in, still shirtless, and my breath catches. “You look gorgeous, babe,” he says, his voice low and filled with admiration. “It’s hot seeing you in my clothes.”
I laugh softly, trying to mask my shyness. “Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” My gaze drifts to the tattoos that adorn his body, dark ink against sun-kissed skin. “What do your tattoos mean?” I ask as I trail my fingers over the lines of ink.
He shifts slightly, the muscles in his chest flexing as he speaks. “The crescent moon on my shoulder? It seems to be the perfect frame for your marking bite. The star constellations represent my parents’ birthdays and the day I became alpha. And this wolf,” he gestures to the fierce creature inked over his left pec, “is what my wolf looks like.”
