Page 11 of Damaged Princess

There is a very hard cock jabbing me in the ass when I blink awake.

Wolfe's delicious manly smell fills my nostrils. I bite back the whimper that tries to escape. He smells like cedar and pine, which is strange coincidence because he's one of the outdoor tour guides for the lodge. I wonder if his smell has always been so reminiscent of the forest or if his scent has subtly changed since he spends so much time around the trees?

I carefully lift his arm and slide to the opposite side of the bed. I woke up thirsty as hell.

Wolfe rolls over onto his back now that I'm out of the bed. His cock stands up proudly popping up the blanket over his pelvis. Shit, he's really freaking hot, and so much closer to the type of guy I imagined I'd end up with. Someone a bit like a hyper Golden Retriever, but in human form. Vik's more like a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd, but they have their own charm.

Don't think about Vik.

That jerk doesn't deserve a single moment of brain time.

I shake my head, aiming for the kitchen. The tile floor is cool under my bare feet as I aim for the fridge. I'm bent over in the refrigerator when I hear someone approaching.

"Good morning," I say, popping up and cracking the bottle of water.

Only it's absolutely not Wolfe.

Rafael Castro stands a few feet away in a pair of low-slung sweatpants and nothing else. His toes arch as he rocks on the pads of his feet and stares at me in confusion. He shoves his glasses up and opens his mouth, but no words come out.

Rafe is slender and relatively short for an alpha. If I had to guess, I'd say he's around six-foot tall. His dark eyes squint like he's trying to make sense of finding me in his kitchen. He rubs at the back of his neck. Every ab and oblique on his body moves as he flexes. His curly short black hair is messy. He looks sleepy and super confused.

My eyes zero in on the smattering of black hair that trails down into his sweatpants. I lick my lips.

Damn, he's been hiding quite the body under his jeans and polo shirts. My mind flies back to the last time I was alone with Rafe in this very kitchen. Back when Vik had Wolfe and Rafe on babysitting duty anytime he couldn't watch me himself.

"I'm stuffed," I groan, rubbing my tummy.

I'm seriously fucking impressed. For having such a slender build, Rafe Castro can destroy some food.

The very last thing I was expecting when he asked if I wanted to eat was for him to cook for me in the kitchen of his suite.

"I haven't had home-cooked food in so long. My stomach hates me right now. I couldn't stop eating," I say, shoving his shoulder. "I blame you. You're going to have to roll me out of here when we're done."

Rafe laughs, shaking his head. "My dad will be so damn smug when I tell him about this. He always swore that lasagna was how he wooed my mom." He freezes. "Not that I was trying to woo you. It's just what I had planned for dinner. That's why it was so quick. I only had to put it in the oven."

I laugh. "It's okay, I know what you meant. Did you grow up in a pack?"

He puts his plate down on the coffee table. "No, my dad is an alpha, but my mom is a beta. I was raised in a pretty traditional household, as far as just having two parents."

"Me too," I tell him. "My mom was great. She never cooked or anything, but we always had activities and things we'd do for holidays. My dad said it was beneath his wife to cook and clean."

Rafe frowns. "My dad cooks and cleans every bit as often as my mom. I'm pretty sure that sort of stuff is meant to be a partnership."

I bite back the cutting reply. Oh, I'm pretty sure my father had multiple "partnerships" with the maids and a few of our cooks over the years.

It's likely why they were replaced so often.

"You know, if I've learned anything from my parents it's that you get to choose what your life looks like. You aren't destined to fall into a pattern just because that's what happened with your family," Rafe says, stretching out a hand and squeezing mine. "My dad grew up in a pack. Everyone suspected he'd join one and find his omega, but he loved my mom so fiercely he couldn't imagine losing her."

"He didn't end up feral?" I ask, tilting my head and studying his face.

"No, no way," he says, laughing. "But we spend a lot of holidays with my grandma and aunts, so he does get regularcontact with omegas. It's obviously not a romantic situation, but it works for them."

Rafe is a gorgeous man. He's got dimples hiding under the scruff on his jaw. But it's the way his eyes seem to glitter with joy when he talks about something he cares about that makes my thighs clench.

He smiles and my stomach teeters in response.

"Speaking of omegas," he says, grabbing my hands and standing up. He pulls me off the couch and into his strong form. He isn't as tall as the others, but he's still way taller than me since I'm barefoot. "You need to pick the style of nest you want. We have one in our suite, and I'd like to show it to you…" He studies my face. "If that's okay with you?"

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