The Alpha Mate

Chapter 62

That dream didn't end when I thought it would. It deepened. Tangled itself into something darker, hungrier—inevitable, like a tide I couldn't fight even if I wanted to.

Draven's hands roamed my body like he already knew every inch of it, like he'd memorized my shape long before I even understood it myself, like he'd been mapping me in his mind for weeks.

His lips devoured mine—slow and demanding—each kiss a claim, each breath between us searing hot enough to burn away every doubt, every fear, every reason I'd ever had to resist.

We weren't speaking anymore. There were no words in this place—just heat and tension and a need that had been boiling for far too long, threatening to consume us both if we didn't give in.

I clung to him, my arms locked tight around his neck, my fingers digging into his hair, pulling him closer even though there was no space left between us.

He kissed me like he didn't care where we were—like the whole forest had vanished and we were the only two people left in existence, like nothing else mattered but this moment, this connection.

My back hit a tree, bark rough against my skin through my shirt, grounding me in the only way it could, anchoring me to something solid when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

Draven didn't stop. He didn't hesitate. Didn't give me a chance to second-guess or pull away.

His eyes met mine—stormy, wild, possessive, burning with an intensity that stole my breath—and I saw everything in them. Every secret desire, every held-back want, every moment he'd looked at me and forced himself to turn away.

Every flicker of restraint he'd ever shown me? Gone. Burned away by the heat between us.

He gripped my thighs and lifted me effortlessly, muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he pinned me to the trunk with a growl that sent heat pooling in my core, made my entire body respond with a need so intense it bordered on pain.

I gasped, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he held me there—firm and unshakable, his body pressing into mine in a way that made my blood burn, made me forget everything but him.

I couldn't think. Could barely breathe. But I didn't want to. I wanted to feel. Wanted to surrender to this, to him, to the overwhelming need that had been building between us since the moment we met.

He kissed me again, harder this time, our mouths crashing together with a heat I couldn't contain, couldn't control.

His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, possessive and claiming as he rolled against me, slow and teasing, the friction making stars burst behind my eyelids, making me arch and whimper, desperate for more, always more.

He pulled back just enough to whisper my name against my lips—raw, reverent, like a prayer he wasn't sure he deserved to say out loud, like my name was sacred. "Atlas."

My name in his voice was enough to unravel me completely, to make every defense I'd ever built crumble to dust.

He pushed my clothes away, his hands rough but sure, baring skin to the cool night air that did nothing to cool the fire burning between us.

His mouth found my neck again, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, then lower, trailing heat down my throat, my collarbone, marking me with kisses that felt like brands, like promises written on my skin.

And then he was inside me, filling me completely with a groan that shook the air around us, that vibrated through my chest and settled in my bones.

I gasped—half pain, half bliss, the sensation overwhelming—and clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle there as he began to move, as he claimed me in the most fundamental way possible.

There was nothing gentle about it. It was wild. Desperate. Raw and honest in a way nothing between us had ever been.

Each thrust made my back scrape against the bark, rough and grounding, but I didn't care. I couldn't care. All I knew was the feel of him, the way he moved inside me, the way our bodies fit together like they were made for this, made for each other, like every moment of my life had been leading to this single point in time.

He was everywhere—his breath hot against my neck, his hands gripping my hips with bruising force, his voice in my ear telling me how good I felt, how perfect, how much he wanted me, how he'd been dreaming of this, of me, for longer than he'd ever admit.

And goddess, I wanted him too. Wanted this. Wanted everything he could give me and more.

The pressure built with every roll of his hips, every thrust that hit something deep inside me that made me see stars, every grind that sent sparks racing through my veins like wildfire. I felt like I was going to break apart, like the sky itself would split in two if he kept going, like I would shatter into a thousand pieces and never be whole again.

And yet I didn't want it to stop. Never wanted it to stop. Would have stayed in this moment forever if I could, suspended in the heat and want and connection between us.

His movements became more urgent, more desperate, chasing something we both needed with an intensity that bordered on violence. My name fell from his lips like a mantra, like he couldn't say anything else, couldn't think of anything but me and this and us.

I was close, so close, balanced on the edge of something vast and terrifying and wonderful. Every nerve ending in my body was alight, every sensation magnified until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began, until we were just one being moving together in perfect rhythm.

"Atlas," he growled against my skin, voice rough and breaking. "Let go. I've got you."

And I did. I let go, let myself fall, trusting him to catch me as pleasure crashed over me in waves so intense I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel as my body trembled and clenched around him.

He followed moments later with a groan that sounded like my name, like relief, like coming home after years of wandering lost.

Until the dream began to fade, the edges growing fuzzy and indistinct, reality intruding like unwelcome light, dissolving into the darkness behind my eyes like smoke dispersing in the wind, leaving only echoes and sensations behind.

But even as I drifted toward waking, consciousness pulling me back to reality with gentle insistence, pulling me away from him and back to my empty bed, one truth remained, echoing through my mind like a heartbeat, like a promise I wasn't sure I was ready to keep but couldn't deny.

I wanted him. Desperately, completely, with every fiber of my being. With an intensity that should have terrified me but instead felt inevitable. And maybe… He wanted me too.