Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Alpha’s Forced Mate Chapter 8

Veronica

I was screaming internally. A lot. More than necessary.

But maybe not even enough.

That was all I could do. Just scream inside my head while Blake's fingers danced over my hips and his lips skirted my mouth. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to do a million things and more.

I'm supposed to kill him, not screw him, I argued with myself.

My eyelids weighed heavy as his hand rounded my hip and pressed to the small of my back. One thousand electric bolts radiated through my core. Every breath shared with Blake caused my slit to twitch. The way his fingers impressed divots into my skin alerted me of his desire-and his hesitation all at once.

He wasn't kissing me. Yet.

"Do it," I urged. "Please."

A smile cut across his lips as he chortled. "Please, what?"

His thumb curved over my throat, lightly drawing a line up to my chin. It was demanding, alarming, and everything I wanted from a guy. No one had ever treated me this way-with such command and patience at the same time. Had I ever actually hooked up with anyone in my life beyond a little heavy petting?

He applied pressure to my trachea. The sensation of it rattled my center and prompted my hips to buck. A shuddering moan drifted from my lips before I could stop it.

"I asked you a question," he whispered huskily. "Answer me, Veronica."

What was I supposed to do? Beg?

My heart skipped a beat. Why does that excite me?

Alarms blared in my skull as I arched into him. Whatever he wanted, I wanted to give it to him. His scent, his proximity, and his strength were enough to push me over the edge. My claim from seconds ago seemed so silly now.

I licked my lips, straining to keep myself upright. "Please, sir."

A symphony exploded around us when his lips crashed into mine. All my preconceived notions washed away the moment his tongue slid into my mouth. No warning. No elegance about it either. His eager exhale was enough to draw my response as tiny tendrils of desire laced between our warring mouths.

His hands swarmed my spine. He backed me into a gaping window, pinning me to the glass without hesitation. While his thumbs invaded the waistband of my jeans, his stubble scraped my skin with every desperate kiss. Hair fell into my face but didn't deter me from returning every affection.

Our lips met over and over following a secret rhythm that only we could understand. His attention circled to the front of my jeans and tugged at the button. A quick nod sent my pants to the ground. After that, undressing became a furious flash of clothes and movement, reducing me to a black tank top that I refused to remove.

I gasped when his hand swept over the location of my scar.

Eyes wide and heart hammering, I tried to slither away.

Oh god, he's been waiting to corner me, I thought timidly. He knows I tried to assassinate him. He's going to kill me.

"Hey, sorry," he whispered, genuine concern lacing his words. "I knew you were injured during that trial. I should have checked on you."

Surprise filled my features. I swallowed hard. "W-what?"

"You favored your side when you left the dining hall."

I closed my eyes as I released a slow exhale. "Yeah, it's-"

He took my chin gently and forced me to look at him. "I'm sorry. You were right. I put all of you in danger."

What the hell was this guy up to? One moment he was stern and pompous, the next he was gentler than a fox with her kits. It was confusing. And the mystery of it all only sucked me in deeper.

He stroked my chin lightly, causing my slit to quiver. Every inch of me was dying to have him as close as close could get. But I knew I couldn't reveal my true purpose here.

"Veronica?"

I blinked rapidly. When I caught sight of his blue eyes, those radiant gems that pierced all my layers, I let go of everything. My task, my pack, my best friend-all that fell into the background as I parted my lips to speak. I was going to excuse myself. I was going to return to my suite. I was going to get a good night's sleep.

How betrayed I felt when my lips spilled other words.

"Please, sir," I whimpered, "kiss me again."

We collided like nebulous stars. My shirt remained intact as his hands wandered, dipping between my thighs to sample the arousal building in my slit. Shock waves flared through my center as he teased my entrance. I stood up on my toes, aching for him to dive into me without any foreplay.

That was a bad idea.

All of this was a bad idea.

But if I wanted his trust, his sincere and unabashed vulnerability, then this would do the trick. Easily. I could have him gone by the end of the week.

I just couldn't fall for him in the process.

"Oh, sweet rose," he whispered to my lips, "you're twitching."

An awful ache expanded between my legs, a pressure that mounted the more he stroked me. Feathery touches shattered my control in a matter of seconds. I was already coming. And I was deeply embarrassed.

I pinched my lips together while blushing.

He chuckled, the sound like drunken lust as he tilted my chin. "Don't hide from me."

"I just-"

"Don't hide from me," he stated firmly. "Understand, sweet rose?"

I bit my lower lip and nodded. With a dashing grin, he dropped to the ground and nuzzled into my slit, the motion sending my eyes so far back into my head that I could see my brain. Long, gentle laps parted my slit, accompanied by desperate huffs. Each one demolished my thoughts, one thought after another, reducing me to a series of bucks, grunts, and gasps for air.

I clutched the back of his head, keeping his face buried in my slit. Black specks danced over my vision as I gazed skyward. The ceiling went out of focus. My ears rang with a siren song.

And then I burst again.

Blake never stopped. He persisted to grace my slit with his tongue, bathing me with dedicated affection that threatened to break me apart. Everything about him made me weak with envy and desire. And none of it made sense.

I'd been sent to destroy him.

Not the other way around.

Yet here I stood with his mouth planted in my slit and his tongue prodding my secret crevice.

"Blake, f**k," I whimpered repeatedly. "Sensitive...Oh, my god, that tickles!"

I shoved his face away, irritated by his amused laughter as he swept his hand over his lips. He wrapped his arms around my legs and tipped me to the ground, catching me with practiced ease.

How many times had he done this? How many girls had been subject to his charm?

And how many of them had been left with broken hearts?

"Stop that," he demanded while nestling between my legs. His c**k flopped onto my slit, making me jolt. "Stop thinking so much. It's so loud."

"You can't read my mind."

He propped himself on his hands and peered down at me. From this angle, his features became more chiseled, enhanced by the dim lights in each corner of the den. A rugged smirk curved his lips. All it would take for him to enter me would be me parting my legs... But did I really want this? Was it worth it?

My brows knit together. He didn't miss a beat with my expression, whispering, "What's wrong?"

I licked my lips slowly, noticing the way he followed the tip of my tongue with his eyes. The ice blue was nearly destroyed by the black sphere of his pupils.

Too many secrets. Too many potential clashes. It was best to let things lie.

Besides, I would soon be his end. Why would it ever matter if he took my v-card?

I opened my legs. "Nothing."

"You sure?"

I nodded as I held his hips. "Just take me, Blake."

This was dangerous. This was risky. What if we were caught? What if everything went south before I could complete my task?

What if Raymond found out?

But nothing seemed to matter as much at that moment as it did for me to have Blake. It wasn't even about his body. It was about him in his entirety.

As he arched back, he tilted his cock toward me, the head brushing against my hypersensitive clit. Desire slid back to the forefront of my mind. Dusty cobwebs gave way to clean shelves where my thoughts lined up one by one.

And all of them involved Blake.

He slid his hands over my tank top, teasing my nipples through the fabric. I could see the question in his gaze without him having to speak it. And I gladly obliged his request. I popped my tits out of my top, watching the wondrous expression that filled his face. And then, he pierced me.

My back arched with the motion, a slow plunge that absorbed every bit of me. His thumbs roamed over my nipples as he sank deeper, only pausing when my features twisted up in pain.

He bowed forward. "Veronica?"

"I'm fine," I gasped. I rested my hands on his shoulders and spread my legs wider. "Don't stop, sir. Please, don't stop."

That was all it took for him to rear back. He returned with a stronger thrust that rocked my body up the carpet. It was almost too tight, too much pressure for me to handle. Yet the pleasurable agony of it all made me want him even more. I raised my knees and rested them over his hips, trusting his pace to transport me to another realm.

Because this reality was too much for me, too demanding. Allowing him to take control relieved some of that pressure-and that release wasn't something I was ready to give up yet.

If ever.

My brows furrowed together as he tilted my hips. A shocked hiss slipped from me as he exposed more of my slit for him to claim, heat coiling in my center the more time he spent dragging out his thrusts. The way he held my gaze, stole my attention, made me realize that he had far more power over me than I cared to admit.

His right hand slid over my injured side. The braised skin flared with pain-and partial pleasure. Confusion swirled with lust and turned me into a whimpering, groveling mess.

"Your pain is mine," he growled. "Your problems, my problems."

My chest heaved. My body stiffened. My nails dug into his flesh.

He growled while bowing over me. "You're mine, Veronica."

"Already?" I squeaked.

He grinned mischievously as he held my chin lightly, splitting my mouth with his thumb. "You have been all along."

He stole the air from my lungs with a kiss. It was a riotous and joyful detonation that infected every inch of me, a planet born of destruction. Where we began as enemies-didn't matter anymore. In fact, it was probably the best sort of beginning, a rebirth that indicated a far different outcome than mere death.

This was far more complicated than I had anticipated.

And I never wanted it to end.

His hips capped my bottom in a ceaseless drill. My heart shuddered at the beat of his thrusts. He buried himself to the hilt. He leaned back. He looked into my eyes.

"Come for me," he commanded.

White splashed my vision. Hot waves caressed my skin. Bolts exploded in my chest with each gasp for breath.

I couldn't sense anything through the haze of my o****m except for Blake. His gripping hands, his vulnerable grunts, and his twitching body alerted me of his eruption. He was spilling inside my channel in short spurts that matched the waves coursing through my body.

When he was done, he slumped on top of me.

My vision slowly focused, revealing the painted ceiling of the den. A clock ticked somewhere in the hallway. The house made a settling sound. Shoes scampered over tile in the distance, perhaps the second floor.

It was then I realized I was smiling like a goof.

Blake popped up. "You hungry?"

"We just ate."

"Yeah, but are you hungry again?"

I studied his features. He had gone from seriously sexy biker to fanboy puppy in about half a second. And it was adorable.

And also forbidden.

"Actually, I uh..." I sat up slowly and blushed when I realized I wasn't wearing pants. Or underwear. Or even socks. I wiggled my toes. "I should get to bed."

Blake slumped back a bit, nodding. "Right. There's another trial tomorrow."

"Don't look so sad, wolf boy."

He arched his right brow. "Excuse me?"

I crawled past him, gathered my clothes, and got dressed before his cock could go flaccid. As soon as I reached the door, I saluted him. "Thanks for that. Goodnight, champ."

Silently stunned-that was how I left him. And that was how I felt until I got back to my suite. With the door shut and bolted, I felt safer for a moment, realizing that I had put myself in harm's way just to get off. You've never thought with your clit in your life, I scolded. Why start now?

But it didn't matter. I had trials ahead. I had a task to complete by the end of the week. The l**t faded quickly, his scent lingering around my nostrils as I wandered into my bedroom.

A note sat on the bed. One quick glance around revealed the room was empty, but I sensed Melvin had been there. Nobody else smelled like musky old vodka and menthol cigarettes except for my best friend.

The note lured me to the bed where I unfolded the page, observing the secret code that Melvin and I had developed in our youth.

Roughly translated, it said, Do it during the next trial or risk being replaced.

Restlessness poured into my muscles. Where my body had once felt relief, it was now tense with anticipation as I realized I was being watched.

Which meant Melvin had probably seen everything that happened in the den.

Instead of making light of the situation like I usually might, fear replaced the restlessness and forced me to crawl under the covers. How could I sleep at a time like this, especially when I knew my task was coming to an end? Then again, how could I not?

Rest, I convinced myself. Handle it tomorrow.

That was, if tomorrow ever came.