Page 11 of Season's Greetings
The first touch of lips reawakened his dormant libido.
To call it a dry spell would be an understatement. Ten years of living with nothing but fantasies, dreams, and broken memories was a long time to take matters into his own hands.
Some might ask why he hadn’t given himself to his wife. But maybe they’d be better off asking why he would give himself to someone who, at best, saw him as a trophy—and at worst, a means to an end.
Claudia was more than happy to play the part of a doting alpha in public. In private? What she did when she wasn’t home wasn’t any of Matthew’s business.
The difference between the two alphas was as clear as night and day.
At no point during their marriage had Matthew ever felt the urge to drop to his knees and worship his wife with his tongue.
Yet with just one look from Daniel, he was yearning to do exactly that.
The primal urge—the instinct to submit—surged through him, a wave of pure desire. All it had taken was a single touch of Daniel’s lips, a fleeting brush that sent electric shocks through his veins, and he was ready to pounce.
He was done holding back. Done letting Daniel brood.
Their bond had been stretched almost to breaking point. Now it was reeling them in, pulling them together with a force neither could deny.
The air crackled with unspoken words. With desperate need.
It was hard to say who had moved first.
Then it was a race to see who could get naked the fastest.
Clothes flew in every direction. Buttons popped. Zippers lowered. The last physical barrier between them fell away.
Hands touched. Explored. Moans echoed through the room—a mix of need and pleasure.
They were a storm of sensations about to break.
Much like the storm that raged outside.
Chapter 7
Daniel
Heshouldhave felt elated.
He’d just spent an earth-shattering night reconnecting with the love of his life—his bond mate.
His? What?
Matthew let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer, his arm snaking across Daniel’s chest, chin tucked against his shoulder.
But to Daniel, it felt more like an anchor holding him down.
A sensation close to panic made his muscles tense. The urge to throw off the omega’s arm and bolt from the bed clawed at him. With each second he lay there, trying to stamp it down, the more his belly roiled.
After so many years of wishing, wanting, dreaming of holding Matthew in his arms—the reality?
It was almost more than he could stand.
Daniel sucked in a breath and gently eased Matthew’s arm from his chest, inching his way to the edge of the bed. Standing, he walked to the picture window, staring out at the frozen vista.
The quiet stillness outside did nothing to calm the maelstrom inside his head.
Leaning forward, he pressed his face to the cold glass and closed his eyes. Some of the tightness in his chest eased as he worked to slow his racing pulse. Yet his mind still spun, tryingto reconcile the gravity of the situation, trying to fit all the new pieces of the puzzle together.
