Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 832

Chapter 43 : Think on Your Feet

We didn't make it to his bed, not for a long time.

We were flooding whoever's room was directly beneath us by the time he picked me up and carried me out of the bathtub, my legs wrapped around his waist. He set me down on the counter, sliding inside of me without preamble as I arched my back and dug my nails into his shoulders. He was bracing himself with one hand on the fogged-up mirror, his other hand holding me in place by my hip.

He was moving achingly slow, each thrust meant to tease and draw out a pleading moan from my lips as I tangled my fingers in his hair.

I wanted more–much more. I wanted him to take me like he had the night after the ball. I wanted him to claim me.

“Please," I whimpered, trembling as he nuzzled my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin. I locked my legs around his waist before he could pull out again, holding him in place.

I was playing with fire… well, with the shadow that he was doing everything to keep contained.

But that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to unleash himself, to take what he wanted from me. He ran his free hand up my back and tangled his hand in my hair, pulling me down so I was forced to look up into his face.

“Don't play games with it, Eliza," he rasped as I ground my hips against him, slow and teasing like he'd been thrusting into me. “Fuck–" he gritted his teeth, releasing his hold on my hair and pressing his forehead against mine. His eyes darkened as he pulled slightly away. I could feel that power coursing through him, begging for control.

“I want to," I whispered, brushing my lips against his. “Please–"

He gathered me roughly against his chest and damn near kicked open the bathroom door as he carried me into his bedroom and dropped me on the bed. He grabbed my legs and pulled me toward him. He was on me in an instant, kissing me so deeply I found it hard to catch my breath.

He forced my legs open, entering me with the roughness I'd been begging for, and had me teetering on the edge of pure ecstasy within seconds.

He held himself up with one hand while the other cupped my breast, his thumb circling over my n*****s. I arched my back, tears of pleasure welling in my eyes as I moaned his name.

“I'm so close," I whimpered, my vision blurred as I looked up at him.

He let out his breath, sweat dappled across his brow as he pulled me closer, grinding his hips against mine.

“Eliza," he rasped against my lips. “Come for me."

He thrust into me, hard, and my whole body shattered into a mind-numbing orgasm that had me seeing stars. His breath quickened, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of my body as my muscles contracted around his length. I was shaking, holding on to him for dear life.

I felt a chill settle over us as he rose onto his knees and took me by the waist, pulling me onto him with enough force to shake the bed. I looked up at him, my arms spread wide. That shadow was… everywhere. I could feel it with every stroke, in every touch.

So much power.

That animalistic look in his eyes as he gazed down at me, vulnerable and open for him, was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life.

He made me come again, and again until he was satisfied enough to let himself fall into pieces beside me, holding me against his trembling chest. The bedsheets were shredded and we were shimmering with sweat, our bodies illuminated by the light of the moon drifting through the windows.

He kissed the ridge of my shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin. I closed my eyes, imagining him biting down, leaving his mark on me.

But he didn't. I didn't expect him to, no matter how badly I realized I wanted it.

“You're asking for trouble," he whispered into my hair. He pulled what was left of the bedcovers over us. “I barely had control over it."

I rolled over to face him, taking his face in my hands.

Whatever I was going to say was silenced by the look in his eyes. It broke me.

“I think this is a little more than… playing pretend," I whispered.

“I know," he replied, brushing a kiss over my temple.

“Does it feel like this with everyone?"

“No," he breathed. “It doesn't."

***

Jared pushed his way into his study, kicking the door closed with his foot as he balanced a breakfast tray loaded with food and a pot of coffee. He cursed under his breath as he stumbled over a stack of books, glowering at me as he steadied the tray and gingerly walked toward the desk.

I was sitting on the floor surrounded by books and scratch paper, totally oblivious to his presence.

“You need to eat something," he commanded over the sound of coffee being poured.

I shook my head, too totally engrossed in my research to pay him any mind, but after a moment he was towering over me with a plate of food. He bent down and snatched the pen out of my hand and set the food in front of me. “Eat, please."

I gave him a somewhat annoyed smile as I balanced the plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and potatoes in my lap. He turned to fix himself a plate, sipping his coffee as he looked over everything I'd laid out over the desk.

I'd woken before the sun with a sense of urgency and had been sitting in here ever since.

Jared had no idea it was because the thought of losing him to this curse had kept me up all night.

“I found a few mentions of Draven in your religious texts, but not many. Brandt mentioned the city of Myrel, but I haven't been able to find anything about it."

“Draven was the villain in the early lore of this realm; that's why. You're not likely to find things written about him because the focus is on Lycaon and his heroes, then the Dark Kings." Jared turned to face me, biting into a piece of bacon. He shrugged, carefully stepping over the scratch papers and books scattered across the floor.

“What I don't understand," I said, waving my hands over the mess in front of me, “is why something like the Cryptex isn't mentioned at all. Those pieces are solid gold and powerful. It obviously comes from a time when there was still magic like that just moving through the world… people who could forge such an item. I would assume something like this would have been sought after by the Church, the same way the Church of the Moon Goddess hoards the artifacts pertaining to this era. Draven said it was his, and he seemed upset that I had it. Why did he make it in the first place?"

Jared looked contemplative as he leaned against the desk and ate his breakfast. He shrugged.

“Brandt mentioned the witches–"

“No," Jared said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not."

“But if they could help us–"

“It's out of the question."

“Why?"

He motioned to the plate of food I was ignoring and I forked an angry bite into my mouth.

“The journey to their territory is treacherous, and I'm not going–"

“To risk me like that? Have I not proven I can handle this? I haven't been able to find anything useful in your collection so far. We're at a dead end!"

He sipped his coffee, his eyes locked on mine.

“I'll go without you if you don't agree," I concluded.

One of his dark brows shot up. “Well it's a good thing you're training with the crew today."

“What?"

“Finishing eating," he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “We have somewhere we need to be.

***

Tommy clenched his fists, boxing the air between us and shifting from foot to foot. “Show me what ya' got, missy," he said with a boyish grin.

We were standing in the center of the sparring ring, ankle deep in mud and surrounded by Jared's crew as they leaned against the railing to watch.

“Get him in the jaw for me, Liz," someone said behind me, followed by grunts and chuckles of approval.

My cheeks flamed as I turned a careful eye on Brandt, who was inside the ring with us but standing out of the way with his arms crossed over his chest.

“How is this training?" I scowled.

“Just hit me," Tommy urged, a gleam in his eyes. “Come on, it'll be fun."

I swatted at him but he caught my wrist, shaking his head.

“Curl your hands into fists, Eliza," Brandt said firmly. I blew out my breath and swung at Tommy, hitting him squarely in the sternum. I stifled a shocked yelp as I held my fist against my chest, pain radiating through my bones. My skin was still sore, split, and bruised from punching Carmen last night.

Tommy grabbed me by the arms and turned me around, crushing my back against his chest. His hand hovered over my neck like he was holding a blade.

“Again," Brandt said as Tommy released me.

“Brandt, I don't know what I'm doing!"

“Think on your feet, Eliza. If Tommy really meant to hurt you, he would. Don't let that happen."

Tommy had a smug grin on his face as he shook out his shoulders and got into position again.

I swung at him, missing him entirely as he dodged my blow. He launched forward, grabbing me by the shoulders.

My body acted before my mind had a chance to catch up. I raised my hands and slammed them into the curve of his elbows, which caught him off guard and made him take a step toward me. I grunted with effort as I drove my knee into his groin, and then had to dig my heels into the ground to steady us both as Tommy pitched forward, his face draining of all color.

Raucous shouts of praise erupted from the railing. Tommy stumbled forward, his hands resting on his knees.

“Well, that's one way to do it," Brandt said under his breath as Tommy hobbled to the railing and threw up.

“Aye, Tommy, you deserved that!"

“She's got some power to 'er, this one. Say, Liz? When do you turn twenty-one?"

I wasn't sure who had asked because all of the men seemed to be talking at once, all of them chiding and brutally making fun of Tommy as he slumped against the railing.

“August 29th," I said to no one in particular, flexing my injured hand.

It was safe to say that Tommy was done sparring with me for the day. Brandt took his spot, and the men who had been watching me make a fool of myself decided they had better things to do than watch Brandt lead me through a variety of hand-to-hand combat exercises.

Brandt moved with the practiced skill of a dancer, every motion of his body calculated and sure. He and Jared had that in common. I was thankful it was Brandt training me and not someone like Archer, whose fighting style could be compared to that of a battering ram.

Brandt spent most of the time teaching me how to block, how to be on the defensive.

I was panting and flushed from exertion by the end of the session. The sun was setting over the village when Brandt finally told me we were done. I would be sporting new bruises tomorrow, I was sure. But the physical exercise had felt good, and had helped me unwind some of the tangled threads in my mind. I'd zoned out after a while, my thoughts flipping through the internal catalog of information I'd gathered from my morning spent in the study.

“Is your birthday really August 29th?" Brandt asked as he handed me a cup of water.

I drank deeply, nodding as I wiped my mouth. “Yeah, why?"

“Nothing, it's just odd–"

“How'd it go?" Jared said as he approached the ring.

I turned to face him, fighting the smile threatening to spread across my face.

“She needs some work," Brandt said flatly. “But Tommy won't be giving Giselle pups anytime soon."

Jared's brows shot up as he glanced between us.

“Is dinner ready?" I asked as Jared helped me up and over the railing.

His hands brushed against my hips for the space of a breath before he turned to Brandt, who was watching us with a smug look on his face.

“I'm sure," Jared said, but he didn't turn to the house. He was obviously having a conversation with Brandt over the mindlink.

“What are you guys talking about?" I asked.

Both men turned their gazes to me, then back to each other.

“Seriously, what?"

“There's something we have to do first," Jared replied as Brandt leaped over the railing. “Carmen wants to talk to you, alone."