The Mystical Attraction of Alpha
Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Chapter 59. Dream Date Ella In the end my exhaustion saves me. I hadn’t realized how tiring the evening was, but the addedpressure of putting on our show for the reporters must have taken more of a toll than I expected. I fallasleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow, but as fate would have it. I can’t even escape Sinclairin my dreams tonight. I know I’m dreaming from the very start. I’m still in Sinclair’s bed, but it’s no longer in his opulentmansion. It’s in the middle of a starlit forest, with nothing but trees and wilderness surrounding it as faras more evidence the eye can see. I’m wearing a simple white negligee that this isn’t real. I don’t ownanything like it. A cool breeze flutters over my skin, carrying the scent of evergreens and moss, richamber and… Sinclair. I would know that scent anywhere, even though I can’t see him yet. He appears slowly, moving towards me through the darkness, his green eyes glowing through thetrees. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of simply black slacks, and for the first time I don’t feel shy aboutappreciating his gorgeous physique. I’ve always averted my eyes when he undresses in front of me,not that this prevents me from feeling his muscles or the huge member between his legs when ourbodies are pressed up against each other in bed. But now I look my fill, raking my eyes over the ruggedplanes of his face and the contours of his chest. His tall frame is padded with muscles most human men can only dream – about some of which I didn’t even know existed. “Hello beautiful.” Sinclair greets me huskily, prowling closer with every ragged breath I take, his naked torso gleaming in the moonlight “Didn’t you get enough of mewhen you were awake?” “How could I?” I pout, feeling completely face to express my sullen mood. “You teased me all night long

and I haven’t had any relief. It’s torture!”

“It’s not easy for me either.” He murmurs sympathetically, crawling up onto the big bed. He moves withsuch lethal grace, crawling over the plush covers until he’s close enough to reach out and touch me,which he immediately does. He lies on his side, encouraging me to come rest in the protective circle ofhis arms. I don’t resist. I slide into his embrace as easily as I breathe, feeling completely at home withthis dangerous man wrapped around me. It seems strange to think he terrified me a month ago, nowhe’s my safe space. “It’s not the same.” I insist, looking over at him from beneath my lashes. “Why not?” Sinclair asks, brushing the hair back from my face. “You don’t know the effect you have on me “I confess, pressing a bit closer. I might be asleep but mybreasts are still aching, and my sex is swollen and dripping with need. It’s rather freeing to be able torub myself against Sinclair without fear of embarrassment or worries over opening a can of worms. “Tell me,” He growls, his voice deep and rough. One of his massive hands tangles in my hair, forming afist in the long silky strands while the other slides down over my bottom, hitching my hips closer, until the pulsing bundle of nerves at theapex of my things is right up against his hardness. “Even the smallest touch sets me on fire.” I complain. “You holding my hand feels more intimate andarousing than another man kissing me.” “And when I do kiss you?” Sinclair prompts, encouraging me to move against him, guiding my hips torock against his. “I might as well be molten lava. My entire body turns to liquid- figuratively and literally.” I confess, and Iknow he understands. My wetness has already seeped through my panties and onto the sleek blackfabric of his trousers. “You have a power over me I don’t understand. I’ve never experienced anythinglike it.”

“You don’t really think it’s different for me, do you?” Sinclair murmurs, lowering his mouth to my throatand brushing his lips over my pulsepoint. “Of course it is.” I whine, so frustrated that I feel like I might cry, “Can’t you feel how hard I am for you, Ella?” Sinclair inquires gruffly, nuzzling my skin, grazing hisfangs over the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “How hard I always am for you?” I’m shiveringwith need now, especially as his words combine with the feeling of his steely length against my cl it. “Well that doesn’t mean anything. You’re in bed with a half naked woman, it would happen withanyone.” I reason miserably. Sinclair chuckles. “I think you’ve been around human men for too long, they’ve given you a very lowopinion of my sex.” He raises his head at last, taking a break from laving the soft spot behind my ear.“Trust me, it doesn’t happen for just anyone, no matter what they’re doing or how lovely they are.” “But I’m nothing.” I insist. “I’m just a human, I don’t have the kind of power you do.” “You’re not nothing.” Sinclair growls, a dangerous edge in his deep voice. “And you might be humanbut you have a power all your own. Don’t you know how difficult it is for me to be near you without touching you? How impossible it is to hold myself back when you’re in my arms, when all my instinctsare driving me to make you mine? Ever since we met I’ve felt like an addict, and you’re my only fix.” “That’s probably just the baby.” I murmur, sighing when the fabric of my teddy slides off my breast,finally allowing one taut nipple to meet Sinclair’s bare chest, teased and tickled by the coa rse blackhair sc att ered over his pecs. “It has to be. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Sinclair answers, his lips mere inches from mine. “And you giveme too much and too little all at once. “What do you mean?” I wonder aloud, not really wanting him to answer. I just want him to kiss me, to strip off my negligee and finally relieve the terrible ache whichseems to have taken over my very soul. I think Sinclair can sense my growing desperation, but forsome reason. he isn’t giving me what I need. He’s holding himself back, taking away

his kisses and questing hands. “I don’t do casual either, Ella.” He catches my hips when I get so distracted rubbing myself against himthat I stop listening. too intent on chasing my pleasure. I whimper when the delicious friction I’d beenbuilding ceases, and Sinclair clucks sympathetically. Still, he doesn’t show me any mercy. Instead hetilts my chin up so I’ll have to look him in the eye. “I don’t waste my time on people I’m not seriousabout, or relationships that aren’t going anywhere.” “I don’t know why we’re even talking about this.” I relate, “It’s not like this is even real, it’s just myimagination run out of control.” Sinclair’s eyes shutter, and he leans his forehead against mine. “Goddess, sometimes I forget how much you don’t know about shifters, how much you can’t know.” “Please, Dominic.” I beg, needing to move, to perform the carnal dance our bodies were made tocreate together. “Won’t you kiss me, won’t you touch me?” “I’d like to touch you and taste you and all the rest.” He grumbles reluctantly, and suddenly his stronghands are gone from my body, and his warm limbs are pulling away from my own. “But I need to leavebefore I do something I’ll regret, something you’ll regret.” “I don’t understand.” I admit, my nose crinkling up in confusion. Sinclair pauses only long enough to lean over me and run his fingertip down my nose, straightening outthe wrinkles. “You will when you wake up.” Before I can say anything more, Sinclair begins stalking away through the dream forest, leaving mealone, and entirely unsatisfied. When I wake up, I replace Sinclair watching me, stroking my hair and gazing down at me with a tenderexpression. “Welcome back.” I blink and stretch, feeling as though I only just fell asleep. “It’s not morning already, is it?” I yawn “No.” He smiles gently, “You’re just coming out of the dream.” “How did you…?” I stop short of finishing my sentence. Logic tells me he must be guessing, or thatmaybe I was talking in my sleep or some other explanation. However when I look into Sinclair’s eyes, I

see the truth. He isn’t speculating, somehow he knows I was dreaming, and as the seconds tick by itbecomes more and more obvious that he knows I was dreaming about him. Worse, I fear he’smanaged to decipher some of the details from the fantasy “It’s okay, Ella.” He soothes, petting me as if I’m a skittish horse. No, oh no. He knows he knows everything.