Killed Pregnant by My Alpha Mate, I Woke Six Years Early and Chose His Rival novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Lodge

In his top-floor rooms Tavish takes her against the door and then in his bed; at 4 a.m. she wakes to find him with his hand flat on her stomach.

His rooms were at the top of the lodge, up a staircase of pale pine that smelled of resin.

He kicked the door shut behind us and set me on my feet against it.

The lock turned with a heavy click.

The room was dim and plain, with a big bed under a slanted ceiling and one tall window full of stars.

I pressed my back against the wood, and Tavish put both hands flat on the door beside my head.

He didn't touch me yet.

He looked at me for a long time, with the heat coming off his body in waves.

"Tell me to stop," he said.

"Don't you dare."

His breath came out in a rough laugh.

Then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn't gentle.

He kissed me, deep and slow and total.

I opened for him and moaned into his tongue.

I fisted both hands in his shirt and dragged him closer.

He caught my wrists and pinned them over my head with one hand.

"Keep them there," he said against my lips.

"Make me."

His eyes went dark.

He held my wrists with one hand and used the other to tear the rest of the white dress straight down the front.

The silk gave with a rip, and cool air hit my skin.

He stepped back an inch to look.

I stood naked against the door in nothing but lace underwear, with my arms stretched up and my breasts rising and falling in the lamplight.

"Beautiful," he said, and his voice cracked in the middle of the word.

I felt it everywhere.

He bent and took one nipple in his mouth.

The heat of it was a shock, and I arched off the wood and cried out.

His tongue circled, and his teeth scraped, and his free hand slid down my belly and cupped me through the lace.

"Already soaked again," he said into my skin.

"Because of you."

"Because of me."

He moved to the other breast, and his fingers worked under the lace, sliding through the slick, circling my clit until my knees went weak.

"Tavish, please."

"Please what?"

"Fuck me."

He lifted his head.

His eyes were pale and almost glowing.

"Say it again."

"Fuck me. Now. Against this door."

He let go of my wrists.

I dropped my hands onto his shoulders, and he shoved his jeans down just enough, and I got my first look at him.

He was huge.

Thick and long and hard as stone, with a heavy vein along the underside and a bead already shining at the head.

I wrapped a hand around him, and he swore, low and ragged.

"Careful," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I've wanted this since the stone and I won't last."

"Then don't last."

He pulled my underwear down and off.

He hooked my right knee up over his hip and lifted me by the other thigh.

My back slid up the door, and I wrapped both legs around his waist.

The head of him pressed at my entrance, hot and blunt.

I looked into his eyes.

"Tavish."

"I've got you."

He pushed in.

I felt myself open around him inch by inch, and the stretch burned and then it didn't, and it was only full.

I threw my head back against the door with a long, shaking moan.

"Fuck," he said. "You're so tight."

"More."

"Ione."

"All of it."

He sank the rest of the way, and his hips met my thighs, and we both stopped, panting, with his forehead against mine.

My body had never had a man in it.

I knew that the way I knew my own name, and it didn't matter.

There was no pain.

There was only the sense of something finally put back where it belonged.

My wolf went quiet and warm and certain.

"Move," I said.

He moved.

He drew almost out and drove back in, and the door boomed against the frame.

I clung to his neck.

He set a hard, even rhythm, and every thrust dragged across a place inside me that made the stars in the window blur.

"That's it," he said. "Take it. Look at me."

I opened my eyes.

His face was inches away, flushed above the beard, with his jaw tight.

His eyes were fixed on me.

"You feel that?" he said. "That's you and me."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"You and me," I gasped, and he drove in harder.

The sound of our bodies filled the room, wet and slapping.

My clit rubbed against his pelvis on every stroke.

I felt the pressure gathering low and tight.

"I'm going to come," I said.

"Not yet."

"Tavish."

"Not until I say."

I whined, a high helpless sound.

He slowed.

He ground into me, deep and slow, and I could feel every inch.

My whole body shook with the need to let go.

"Please."

"Good girl. Now."

I came with a scream.

It ripped through me in long waves.

I clamped down around him so hard that he groaned and nearly lost his hold on my thighs.

He took my mouth to swallow the sound, and he kept fucking me through it, slow and hard, until I went limp in his arms.

"Bed," he said, hoarse.

He carried me across the room still inside me, and each step jolted another aftershock out of my body.

He laid me on the black quilt and covered me with his weight.

He tore his shirt over his head.

His chest was broad and hard, with a pale scar across the left ribs and a dusting of dark-gold hair.

I ran my hands over it, greedy.

He took my wrists again and pressed them into the pillow on either side of my head.

"This time," he said, "I take my time."

"Take it."

He did.

He rocked into me, long and deep, with his mouth moving over my throat and my collarbone and the tops of my breasts.

He found a rhythm that rolled through my whole body.

I wrapped my legs around his back and met every thrust.

"Tavish."

"I know."

"Don't stop."

"I'm not going to."

The second orgasm built slowly and more brutally than the first.

It started in my thighs and climbed, and I held his gaze and dug my heels into the small of his back.

"Come with me," I said.

"Ione."

"Come inside me."

He shuddered.

His hips snapped forward hard, and then harder, and I felt him swell.

"Now," I begged. "Please."

He roared against my neck.

His cock pulsed deep in me, and the heat spilled hard and endless, and that pushed me over.

I came again with his name in my mouth, clenching and clenching.

He emptied himself into me with a broken sound I would remember all my life.

We lay twisted together for a long time.

His weight was heavy and wonderful.

His heartbeat knocked against mine.

"I'm not done with you," he said into my hair.

I laughed, weak.

"Good."

I slid a hand down between us and found him already stirring against my thigh.

"Already?" I said.

"You have no idea how long I've waited."

I wrapped my fingers around him, slick with both of us, and stroked once, slowly.

He shuddered and thrust into my fist.

"My turn to look," I said, and pushed him onto his back.

I knelt over him and studied him by lamplight.

The flushed head, the thick vein, the sheen of me on his skin.

He watched me with his lips parted.

"Ione."

"Quiet."

I slid my hand up and down the length of him until his hips lifted off the bed.

Then I lowered myself and took him in again, all the way, in one long slide.

He groaned and gripped my thighs.

I rode him slowly, my hands flat on his chest, watching his face come apart.

He rolled me onto my side before midnight and fitted his chest against my back.

His hand slid down my belly and between my legs, and he pushed into me from behind, slow and lazy and deep.

"Awake?" he murmured into my neck.

"Never going to sleep again."

"Liar."

He rocked into me in long lazy strokes while his fingers circled my clit in time.

I reached back and gripped his hip to pull him in harder.

"Greedy," he said, and bit the muscle at my shoulder, not hard.

My wolf surged up under my skin at the touch of his teeth.

"Do that again."

He did, and I came around him with a long, slow shudder.

He followed, spilling deep with a groan against my ear, and we fell asleep still joined.

Near dawn he woke me with his mouth between my shoulder blades.

He took me again with my hands braced against the headboard, hard and fast, until the bed knocked the wall.

I don't remember falling asleep after that.

I woke at four with the room cold and blue, and a heavy arm across my waist.

The bed was warm, and the other side of the mattress was empty.

I turned my head.

Tavish sat up against the headboard, wide awake.

His hand lay flat on my stomach, low, below my navel.

He was staring at it.

His face was bare and terrible, and he didn't know I was watching.

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