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The Alpha King and His Virgin Bride novel · Chapter 11 of 32

Chapter 11: Not Waiting

For a second he just looked at me.

Then his hand came up and touched my face, very lightly.

"You don't know what you're saying," he said.

"I'm twenty-four. I know exactly what I'm saying."

"Linnea, you've never..."

"I know what I've never." I stepped through the door into his room. "That's why I'm picking who."

His eyes went gold.

All the way.

"I can't mark you," he said roughly. "Not tonight. Not till the moon. If my wolf gets loose..."

"Then don't let him."

"You don't understand what he wants."

"I understood it in the library." I put my hand flat on his bare chest, over his heart. It was hammering. "Your heart's going like a rabbit's, Vidar."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mine," I said, and I kissed him.

He held still for one breath.

Then he made that low sound in his chest, and he picked me up.

He did it.

My legs went around his waist and my back hit the door frame, and he kissed me until I couldn't think.

I pulled my undershirt over my head and dropped it on his floor.

He stopped.

He looked at me in the moonlight from his big windows.

"You're mine," he said.

It wasn't a question.

It sounded like a man saying a prayer.

"Take me to bed," I said. "Or I'll do it myself."

He laughed against my mouth, shaky, and carried me across the room.

The bed hit the backs of my knees and I went down with him on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

I could feel all of him through his sweatpants.

Hard and huge and unmistakably mine now.

I shoved at his chest until he rolled, laughing that shaky laugh, and then I was the one on top, my thighs straddling his hips.

I looked down at him in the moonlight.

His eyes were still gold, and he was watching me like I was the only thing in the room.

I reached back and pulled the tie off the end of my braid.

My hair came loose and fell around my shoulders, and his hands came up and buried themselves in it.

"Linnea." His voice was rough. "You're shaking."

"Good." I leaned down and kissed him. "I want to shake."

He kissed me back like he was starving, one hand fisting in my hair and the other sliding down my bare back.

I ground down against him without meaning to, and the sound he made went straight between my legs.

I wanted his sweatpants off.

I wanted him inside me.

I wanted every inch of him, and I told him so.

"Take these off." I pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants. "Now."

He grabbed my wrists and held them still.

"Slow down." His voice was a growl. "We're doing this my way."

"Your way is too slow."

"My way is going to make you come so hard you forget your own name." He flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. "And you're going to let me."

The weight of his words landed low in my belly and burned there.

I stopped fighting and let him hold me down.

He kissed my throat, my collarbone, the swell of my breast.

Then his mouth closed over my nipple and I gasped.

He sucked and licked until I was arching off the bed, my hips rising to meet him.

His free hand slid down my stomach, over the waistband of my scrub pants, and cupped me through the fabric.

I was soaked.

He could feel it.

"You're so wet for me already." He lifted his head. "And I haven't even touched your pussy yet."

Hearing him say it like that, low and dirty, made me clench around nothing.

"Please." The word slipped out before I could stop it.

"Please what?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you."

"Under the pants." I was panting. "Vidar, please."

He let go of my wrists and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my scrub pants.

He pulled them down slowly, deliberately, his eyes on my face the whole time.

Then they were gone, kicked off somewhere in the dark, and I was lying naked under him.

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