The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 226

Chapter 226: Grow Strong for Mommy

STEP ONE: Subliminal Messaging While Sleeping.

Nothing out of the ordinary. This worked like a charm on her ex Garrett, up until the end. And that wasn’t her fault.

The bed dipped.

Guinevere entered naked.

"Dexmon," she whispered in his ear, "You want Guinevere to ride you."

STEP TWO: Arousal Name Imprinting.

Her fingers wrapped around his thickening length.

Dexmon stirred, and his hips twitched forward into her grip, hardening fully in her hand.

It was working.

He moaned. "Serena..."

"You mean Guinevere. You want to cum for her."

"Serena... fuck... just like that, baby..."

He smiled in his sleep.

Her eye twitched. Fine. She could work with this. Redirect. Recalibrate. She was a professional.

"Guinevere. The womb of destiny." She looked down at his dick. "Hello future prince-maker. Grow strong for mommy."

STEP THREE: Trauma Bonding Memory Implant.

"Remember when we survived the assassination attempt together? You protected me with your body."

She picked up the pace with her hand. The fact he was sleeping through this and he was THAT hard probably meant Serena wasn’t doing it for him anyways.

"Then we made love under the stars. You promised me the next one would be our heir."

He groaned.

"Serena. Baby... come here. I love you so fucking much."

"Guin-eh-VERE," she corrected in his ear, louder than intended. "Not Serena. GUIN-EH-VERE."

He inhaled a deep breath, then stilled.

✦✦✦

One moment Aegon was running through the forest towards a white wolf.

Then the scent hit. It was wrong. Someone’s great-aunt’s guest bedroom.

Dexmon came into vague awareness that he was being jerked off.

Aegon: THAT IS NOT OUR HAND. OR OUR MATE. EJECT.

His eyes snapped open.

A woman was propped up on her side, smiling down at him, completely naked with her hand on his shaft.

Dex screamed. High-pitched. It was not a dignified sound and one he would deny, under oath, for the rest of his natural life, and one which three guards in the corridor would spend the next twenty years quietly impersonating at taverns for money.

He scrambled upright, yanking the sheet up to his waist like a scandalized maiden.

"No need to hide, Dexmon. I’ve already seen it."

He launched backward out of the bed, pulling the sheet with him, hit the floor, rolled, and came up in a crouch with the sheet clutched to his waist.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Guinevere sat up slowly, letting the blankets pool around her hips. The circlet slipped slightly. She adjusted it.

"Good morning."

"Who the fuck are you?" Dex said. "And what are you doing in my bed?"

"Our bed."

"What."

She reached into the nightstand drawer, which she had apparently pre-staged, and produced a leather portfolio with color-coded tabs.

"Before you say anything," she began, flipping to tab two, "I took the liberty of compiling my qualifications. I’m a significantly better fit than the white-haired omega. Sarah or whatever her name is. Pedigree on page one. Political alliances on page three. The family tree is on page four. Hip-to-waist ratio is on page six, which I think you’ll find generous to both of us. Our children will be attractive."

Aegon: I have never been this scared in my life.

Dex backed towards the door, sheet trailing behind him like the world’s least regal wedding train. His hand found the handle. He turned it.

The door had been locked. From the inside. By her.

"I can explain that."

"I don’t want you to."

Aegon: I want to leave. SHE’S GETTING CLOSER. MOVE!

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