Mated to Her Alpha Instructor (Eileen and Regis) novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Eileen

I woke to the amber light of dusk filtering through the curtains, and the first thing I became aware of was warmth—not just the warmth of arms, but the solid heat of the body wrapped around mine from behind. Regis lay behind me in a position I’d first learned about from a book I wasn’t supposed to read as a kid. So this was spooning.

His arm draped possessively across my waist, palm splayed protectively over my lower belly as though even in sleep, he needed to confirm for both the baby and I remained within his reach. His breathing was steady and deep, each exhale ghosting across the nape of my neck and sending involuntary shivers down my spine.

I tried to shift slightly, just to relieve the numbness creeping into my arm, but his response was immediate and instinctive—the arm around me tightened, drawing me against his chest and eliminating any remaining space between us.

I became aware of the unmistakable pressure against my backside that made my breath catch in my throat: his penis, half-hard and twitching slightly.

I was still mortified. Despite everything we’d just done—God, all those things—I was still mortified. Flashes hit me: his face between my thighs, eyes dark with hunger and reverence, my own helpless sounds spilling out. How could I have been so bold? So forward? Who was that woman, the one who took what she wanted without apology?

Through our bond came his contentment—deep, animal, yet tender. Even in sleep, he guarded me as if I were precious. The realization tightened my chest with an emotion I couldn’t name, one that made me want to cry and never leave this cocoon of safety.

The doorbell rang, shattering the moment.

The sharp chime cut through the quiet room like a blade. I froze, and Regis’s breathing pattern shifted immediately—he was awake. His arm tightened once more, then I heard him sigh softly against my neck, the sound carrying equal parts reluctance and resigned amusement.

He looked disheveled and fierce, taking me completely off guard. His rumpled appearance, the sleep-heavy eyes, the hair mussed by my fingers—

What if there was a woman at the door…

Had I become so… possessive?

He glanced back at me, an amused glint in his usually composed eyes. “It’s Mira,” he announced, clearly entertained. “Your friend is very… persistent.”