THE ALPHA’S ADDICTION

Freya curled her legs beneath her, whilst regarding him steadily.

“You know, Aiden, you are so used to using your power, you don’t even stop to think if it’s right or wrong.” She stated.

“He had no right to touch you. He was causing you pain.” Aiden replied with a shrug.

“But he didn’t know he was. And you had no right to touch me, but you did anyway,” She pointed out reasonably.

His eyes glittered coldly.

“I have every right. You belong to me.” He said it calmly, his voice soft, with a hint of warning.

“More importantly, Freya, I did not cause you pain.”

Freya’s breath caught in her throat. Her tongue moistened her lips with a small, delicate gesture. “Aiden” – her voice was hesitant, as she chose her words carefully – “I belong to myself. I’m a person, not something you can own. In any case. I live in the United States. I’m going back there soon and intend to be on the next flight to Budapest.”

His smile was that of a hunter. Predatory. For a moment the firelight gleamed red, so that his eyes glowed like a wolf’s in the night. He said nothing, simply watched her unblinkingly.

Her hand fluttered defensively to her throat. “It’s late; I should be going,” She could hear the pounding of her own heart. What was it she wanted from him? She didn’t know, only that this was the most perfect, frightening afternoon of her life and she wanted to see him again.

He was utterly motionless, menacing in his complete stillness. She waited breathlessly. Fear was suffocating her, sending tremors through her slender form. Fear he would let her go; fear he would force her to stay. She drew air into her lungs. “Aiden, I don’t know what you want.” She didn’t know what she wanted either. Only that she knew that he was the one.

He stood up then, power and grace combined. His shadow reached her before he did. His strength was enormous, but his hands were gentle as they pulled her to her feet. His hands slid up her arms, rested lightly on her shoulders, thumbs stroking the pulse in her neck. His touch sent warmth curling in her abdomen. She was so small beside him, so fragile and vulnerable.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Do not try to leave me, little one. We need one another.” He said softly.

His dark head bent lower, his mouth brushing her eyelids, sending little darts of fire licking along her skin. “You make me remember what living is,” he whispered in his mesmerizing voice. His mouth found the corner of hers, and a jolt of electricity sizzled through her body.

Freya reached up to touch the shadowed line of his jaw, to place a hand on the heavy muscles of his chest in an attempt to put space between them.

“Listen to me, Aiden.” Her voice was husky. “We both know what loneliness is, isolation. It’s beyond my imagination that I can be this close to you, physically touch you, and not be swamped with unwanted burdens. But we can’t do this.” She muttered, remembering her mother’s aversion to Yodah. What would the woman do if she introduced Aiden to her?

Amusement crept into the dark fire of his eyes, a hint of tenderness. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck.

“Oh, I think we can.” He whispered. His black velvet voice was pure seduction, his smile frankly sensual.

Freya felt his power right down to her toes. Her body was boneless, liquid, aching. She was so close to him that she felt a part of him, surrounded by him, enveloped by him.

“I’m not going to sleep with someone I don’t know because I’m lonely.” She said, anything to escape this unknown feeling.

He laughed softly, low and amused.

“Is that what you think? That you would be sleeping with me because you are lonely?”

His hand was at her throat again, stroking, caressing, heating her blood.

“This is why you will make love with me. This!” He mentioned, as his mouth fastened on hers.

White heat. Blue lightning. The ground shifted and rolled.

Aiden dragged her slender form against his male length, his body aggressive, his mouth dominating, sweeping her into a world of pure feeling.

Freya could only cling to him, a safe anchor in a storm of turbulent emotions. A growl rumbled deep in his throat, animal, feral, like that of an aroused wolf. His mouth moved to the soft, vulnerable line of her throat, down to rest on the pulse beating so frantically beneath her satin skin.

His arms tightened, pinning her to his body, possessive, certain, his hold unbreakable. She was on fire, needing, burning, hot silk in his arms, her body pliant, liquid heat. She was moving against him restlessly, her breasts aching, nipples pushing erotically against the thin yarn of her sweater.

His thumb brushed her nipple through the crocheted lace, sending waves of heat curling through her body, making her knees go weak so that only the hard strength of his arms held her up. His mouth moved again, his tongue like a flame licking over her pulse.

And then there was white-hot heat, searing pain, her body coiling with need, burning for him, craving him. Waves of desire beat at her. His mouth on her neck was producing a combination of pleasure and pain so intense that she didn’t know where one started and the other left off. His thumb tipped her head back, exposing her throat, his mouth clamped to her skin, his throat working as if he were devouring her, feeding on her, drinking her in. It burned, yet fed her own craving.

Aiden whispered something in his native tongue and lifted his head slightly, breaking the contact. Freya felt warm liquid run down her throat to her breast.

Aiden’s tongue followed the path, sweeping across the creamy swell of her breast. He caught at her small waist, aware suddenly of the way his body raged at him for release. He had to claim her for his mate. His body demanded, burned.