Page 23 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
Her lips parted, not in protest but in invitation. And something in me snapped.
Not the part ruled by the court or crown.
The part ruled by want. By instinct. By her.
I gripped her waist and spun her around so fast that the cake nearly tumbled from her hands.
A startled gasp slipped from her lips as her back hit the bed. The same bed that reeked of the same petals on her floor. And that scent? It was beginning to blur all my senses just like she did.
My princess clutched the plate to her chest, her breath quickening. I liked the gesture but needless to say, I didn’t care about the cake now that I was looking into her eyes.
“I told myself coming here was out of duty,” I said, my voice low. “But then you brought me this.”
Her eyes flicked to the honey cake and then back to me. She opened her mouth to speak, maybe to apologize, but I shook my head slowly, all predator-like.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
She blinked. “It’s cake for your birthday—”
I cut her off. “It’s bait.”
Bait for me. Bait for the emotions that were slowly gravitating towards her. She had no clue, did she?
As if not listening to her pray for my well-being wasn’t enough, she had to bake for me. No, she had to learn to bake me my favorite cake.
I plucked the plate from her hands and set it aside, not before dipping a finger into the honey glaze. Then watching her, I slowly licked it clean. Her thighs pressed together. She watched my tongue like she wanted it on her skin and inside her pussy instead.
“Take off the dress,” I ordered, taking a step away from her to give her room.
She hesitated then obeyed. The gown slipped over her head, pooling on the bed like spilled ink. Underneath, she wore nothing, as if seeing her hadn’t already made my nerves go haywire.
I groaned a subtle ‘fuck’ underneath my breath. My cock pulsed. And my wolf? He howled.
I stalked toward her taking the plate by the bedside in hand with a million filthy thoughts burning through me. How good I knew she took my cock. How warm her heat felt. How feral she made me when she moaned. So many filthy thoughts.
“You prayed to save me,” I murmured, setting the cake beside her on the bed. “But little bird, I think you’ve doomed us both.”
I knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs with ease, revealing that glistening heat that had haunted my thoughts for too many damn nights.
She was already dripping, flushed and trembling, and the man in me that loved seeing her fall apart from her orgasm wanted to give her everything her pussy craved.
But not right now. Not yet.
I tore a chunk of the honey cake and placed it right on her belly, just above her navel. She gasped, arching slightly.
“Don’t move,” I said darkly.
Then I drizzled honey glaze from the cake on her navel.
It trickled slowly… winding down her stomach in golden ribbons… pooling in the soft dip of her skin and slipping lower, lower, toward where she was hot and desperate and begging to be fucked.
Her breath hitched. Her hands fisted the sheets. And I smiled.
Then I leaned down, and licked the honey straight from her pussy.
First the honey, slow and deep inside her tight channel. Then the cake, warm and sweet from her skin. She whimpered when my tongue dragged over her ribs when I bit the edge of her hip just to thank her for the delicious cake and the tantalizing taste of her pussy.
“I should thank the Moon Goddess,” I teased, “for making you mine.”
