"Yes, alpha." She whispered.
He slid her underwear down, his fingers deft, patient, worshipful. Then he lifted her bridal style, the warmth of his body pressing into hers, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming against her own. Placing her on his bed, he set the stage for a storm of passion and surrender, a collision of want and inevitability.
Every line of her body was drawn toward him.
He held her there, just looking at her. Bare, trembling slightly under his gaze, her chest rising and falling. His hands traced along her sides, memorizing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, and the soft tremble of her thighs pressed against his. Every inch of her was screaming for him, and yet he let her wait just a moment longer, letting the tension coil tighter, letting her ache build until it felt like it might split her open.
