Page 27 of The Alpha's Arranged Mate

“He onlybeat you at healingbecause he had the good sense not to try to climb the walls with a body full of stitches,” Lyrie snapped. “Honestly, you’re as bad as each other.”

But a pressing piece of information was still trying to make itself known. “I didn’t dream the duel,” he said slowly. “That was real.” She was nodding, her expression grave. “Then… I didn’t dream the part where you told me you loved me?” Lyrie shook her head, a tiny smile curving her lips upwards, and in that moment Reeve would have happily gone through a hundred grueling battles if it meant seeing that smile. “But—the marriage. You said you wanted to dissolve it. Why—”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” she said after a pause. He could tell she’d been thinking about this. “I worried that our lives were incompatible, that even if we were soulmates it wouldn’t matter…” She rolled her eyes, folded her arms defensively over her chest as if to pre-empt mockery from him. “It’s stupid, in hindsight.”

“Hey, I’m the last person who’s going to judge you,” he said faintly. “At least you didn’t challenge anyone to a fight to the death to avoid actually confronting your feelings.”

“Sure, but if I’d just been honest before the—”

“No,” he said firmly, cutting her off. “I’m absolutely not letting you take any blame for any of this. We all grew up learning how to bottle our feelings up in the deepest, darkest corner of ourselves. It’s a miracle we got here at all.” More memories were coming back to him of the battle, and he felt a strange, hoarse little laugh escape him. “That was the first time my brother ever told me he loved me, did you know that? I moved to a newworldbecause I thought he hated me, and it turned out that doing that broke his heart so badly he dumped all that trauma straight onto you.”

“What a mess,” Lyrie said faintly. But there was a strange, bright look in her eyes, too. “I’m so glad you’re alive, Reeve.”

“Me too,” he said, realizing that it had been a long time since he’d meant that so firmly. “And I’m glad Darion is, too. Who’s been running things while we’ve both been out of action?”

Lyrie rolled her eyes. “Who do you think? You two aren’t the only Alphas on the island, you know. Besides, there’s not really been much to do.” He could see a lot of pride in the smile on her face. “There may as well be one pack on Kurivon instead of two. The duel… everyone thought that you guys fighting was going to mean war for the island. But instead, it seems like it’s shown everyone how important it is that we stay close. Trust each other. Forgive each other.”

“Almost makes all the bloodshed worth it,” he said—then recoiled at the look in her eyes. “Joking, joking—”

“Good,” she said darkly. “Because I’m not having you teach our children that a battle to the death will solve all their problems.”

“Our children?”

That light in her eyes again, brighter than the sunrise. A mischievous smile was dancing across her lips as she passed a hand across her belly. He’d been terrified he’d dreamed that part, too. But the look on her face was all the reassurance he needed. “I mean, I’d like more than one,” she said with a shrug. “And who knows? It’s too early to tell with this one, but Syrra told me that twins tend to run in families…”

Nothing could have stopped him, right then, from pulling her into his arms—no old traditions, no injuries, no fear of reprisal would have been strong enough. She laughed as he threw back the quilt and the bedsheets, dragged her beneath them, then covered the pair of them up again, until they were both encapsulated in warm, quiet darkness that held just the two of them… for now, at least. Someday—someday soon—they’d be a family. Hadn’t he dreamed of that, as he walked the silent streets of Kurivon before the duel that he’d been certain would spell his doom? Hadn’t he imagined wolf cubs playing on the grass outside a home he shared with the love of his life? He drew Lyrie close, and she pressed her long, elegant body against his with a tenderness that made his chest ache. What could ever have possessed him to think there was anything in the world better than this?

He kissed her then, sweet and slow, and though he could feel her breath catching and her pulse rising, she pulled away from him, reluctance warring with the desire in her eyes. She ran a worried hand up his arm to where the bandages were wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The distant memory of a blade digging into the muscle of his back… but that had been a lifetime ago. It may as well have been a part of the dream. “It’s fine,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her throat that made her shiver. “I’m fine, I’m healed, I’m stronger than ever.”

“Are you sure?” She was clearly shooting for a warning tone, but a well-timed slide of his palm up her spine and across the taut muscle of her back made her voice a little unsteady. “It’s only been a week since—”

“Lyrie, death itself wouldn’t stop me wanting you,” he growled against her throat, sudden impatience flaring in him. “And it’s been a lot longer than a week since I got to hold you like this.” He slid his hand around the curve of her ribs, pleased to note there were no pesky undergarments standing between his hands and her warm skin. Reeve caressed her ribs, fingers gliding slowly up and over the swell of her breasts, slowing his pace in the way he’d learned drove her absolutely crazy. Just as he’d expected, she was putty in his hands soon enough, breath catching in her throat as she arched her back to press more of her body into contact with his. In one surprisingly deft movement, given the complicating factor of the blankets all around her, Lyrie wriggled out of the shirt she was wearing and shoved it away behind her, somewhere in the depths of the bed. Grinning against the warm flesh of her throat, Reeve pressed a kiss to the place he could feel her pulse fluttering, then continued on a slow, lazy downward trajectory that had her moaning with frustration and desire.

“I mean,” he murmured against her skin. “If you’d prefer to wait another week just for safety—”

He had to stifle his laughter at the strangled whimper of absolute fury that won him. Knowing not to push his luck when it came to teasing her, he relented, taking the hard bud of her nipple between his lips and listening to her gasp and moan with pleasure, body shivering under his careful ministrations. She’d slid one long, lean thigh between his legs, and he gritted his teeth to suppress the urge to grind himself against her, knowing it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control of his desire entirely. And right now, he wanted to take his time.

And so, with the hand that had been caressing her breast, he began to explore her body, keeping up the teasing of her sensitive nipples with his lips and tongue. The well-honed weapon that was her body was also an absolute treasure trove of sensitive places, and he revisited a few of his favorites from the night they’d spent together—the curve of her hip, the place where her buttocks began to swell at the base of her lower back, the soft skin on the inside of her thigh… but he could feel her impatience already at boiling point, knew from the way she kept grinding her hips against him that she wouldn’t tolerate his teasing much longer. Her hiss of protest when he removed his lips from her breast was accompanied by a hand sliding impatiently up the back of his neck and taking a fistful of his hair… but she abruptly stopped trying to throw him around when she realized exactly where he was going. That’d teach her to be presumptuous, he thought with a grin as he let his breath ghost across the tops of her thighs. And then her hand tightened in his hair as he buried his face between her thighs.

If he’d thought her cries were demanding before, they’d reached an entirely new level now. Grateful that the yacht’s walls were thick and fairly well soundproofed, he set about finding new ways of drawing pleasure from her body, using her cries to guide the movements of his lips and tongue. He slid one hand up her body, feeling every muscle in her midsection tensing and squeezing as she ground her hips against his face, and when he took one of her nipples between his fingers she reacted as though she’d been struck by lightning. It wasn’t long before she was shuddering beneath him the way she did when she was getting close to the edge, her low, guttural moans the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. The scent and taste of her was intoxicating, overwhelming… Reeve was distantly aware that his sinister plan had been to tease her, to draw her close to her edge then pretend that he was too worried about his well-healed injuries to continue. But right now, with every one of his senses absolutely overwhelmed by her, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her the pleasure that was so close at hand. Right now, he wanted it as much as she did. And when she crashed over the edge, he rode the wave with her, drawing every last wave of pleasure from her body that he could until she was a tangle of limbs in the bed beside him, gasping for breath, utterly disheveled and utterly perfect.

He crawled up beside her and gathered her close, and for maybe ten seconds, she lay against his chest in absolute peace, her eyes closed and her frantic breathing beginning to slow. As much as his own body was begging for some taste of the release he’d given her, he was nevertheless more than willing to lie there for the rest of his life, if that was what it took. But then her silver eyes shot open, and the look of utterly unfiltered desire on her face made his cock jerk to attention as though she was gripping it in her hand.

Without a word, she flattened both of her hands against his chest and pressed him flat on his back on the bed. Feeling oddly like he ought to salute, he did as her wordless instructions commanded, his heartbeat accelerating in his chest. Lyrie slid one long over him until she was on all fours above him, her long thighs pressing into his legs on the left and the right, her hands still pressing him firmly down. She needn’t have bothered. There was nowhere in any world he knew of that he’d rather be than exactly where he was.

His eyes fluttered shut as he felt her lowering her hips, slowly but steadily, until the slick heat of her folds began to brush against the straining head of his cock. With a soft moan, she lowered herself the rest of the way, burying his cock in the scorching embrace of her body. Holding his gaze, she shifted her hips, and he couldn’t suppress his moan, couldn’t stop his shaking hands from grabbing hold of her hips as he thrust himself deeply into her. Her eyelids fluttered shut in lazy appreciation of the new angle—and that was all the encouragement he needed to pick up his pace, each thrust made all the more pleasurable by the way she ground her hips down to meet him.

There was vivid surprise in her eyes when her breathing began to catch and quicken, and he grinned at the realization that she was on her way to her edge again, faster than she’d thought was possible. Well, that suited him just fine. The weeks he’d spent holding himself back from her had taken their toll on him, not to mention the time he’d just spent with his head buried between her legs—Reeve, too, had reached the point of no return faster than he’d imagined he would. But as her breathing grew rapid and her motions jerky, her hands trembling where they dug hard into the muscles of his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to hold back for another second. They both reached their peak simultaneously, his hands holding tightly to her hips even as her fingers dug into his chest for dear life… and then they were coasting into the blissful peace beyond, breathing hard in a familiar tangle of sweaty limbs that had both of them laughing with breathless, wordless recognition.

And all Reeve could think about was how lucky he was that he’d survived the duel… because it meant that he could look forward to doing this over and over again, for the rest of their long lives together.

Chapter 18 - Lyrie

Summer crept up so quickly on Kurivon that Lyrie had to check her calendar twice before she believed it. Reeve stood in the doorway to their cottage as she studied the calendar, that smug little ‘wait until you realize I’m right’ smile on his face that always made her want to put him in a headlock.

“But it was summer when I got here.”

“Early summer,” he corrected her. “You’ve been here for over a year, Lyrie.”

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