The Pack Rules 3: Ruled by the Alpha (Werewolf Romance Serial) (2 page)

Neela went stock still and
the blood drained from her face. The pillow in her hand deflated under the strength of her grip. “I should’ve been informed.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” said Mac
pleasantly, his expression bland. “I’m informing you.” He opened his hand. “The prison key, please. You will report to the
pro tem
and officially relieve yourself of all duties.”

“Who called for the vote?” asked Neela as she slapped the key into Mac’s hand. It seemed not all her fire had been banked.

“Kelt.” Mac tucked the key into his pocket. “It seems your father doesn’t trust you to be objective about Grey’s mate. Wonder why he’d think that?”

Her expression hardened, but not before I saw the hurt betrayal flash across her face.
I had no love for Neela, but it must’ve been a terrible thing to know your own father had thrown you under the bus. I knew she would accept no sympathy from me, yet I felt my heart soften a little toward her. She ripped the pillow in half and dropped it at Mac’s feet. Without another word, she turned on her booted heel and strode away.

Mac scooped up the pillow debris. “She took it better than I thought.”

“The imputation against Belle stands?” asked Grey.

“
Unfortunately. The circumstantial evidence is thin, but the witness testimony is strong. Together, it’s enough to support the charge.” Mac offered me an empathetic smile. “I’m sorry your first introduction into our pack is a first-hand experience with our justice system.”

“The best way to learn it,” I said.

He laughed. “Yes, I suppose so.” He gestured toward the door. “It’s time. I’m afraid the door will have to remain locked so long as you are considered a prisoner. Grey has his two-way radio to communicate with us.”

“I won’t be here during the day,” said Grey. “But I will be with you every night until this nightmare is over.”

“Oh?” I said with an arched brow. “And when I’m free, where else do you plan to spend your nights?”

For a moment, he looked nonplussed—especially when the other men laughed. Then Grey offered me a wolfish grin. “Let me rephrase. I will be with you every night for the rest of our lives.”

“Clarification is the key to communication,” I said.

“Indeed,” said my husband.

I swear we shared a tender moment—given the softness of Grey’s smile.

“All right then. No use lollygagging about.”
I turned to Colt. “Thank you for being my advocate.”

“
It’s my honor. Do you need anything?” asked Colt.

I glanced at Grey and saw him watching me
with such a hungry, hungry look. I felt a little flutter in my belly. “I have all that I need.”

Grey smiled.

I said good-bye to the men and entered my prison. Grey stayed outside, apparently wanting a private conversation.

Neela hadn’t been kidding about the five-star hotel. Even when I was attending college, I had never been in such a fancy space—and
this was a prison.

The bed was large, a king-sized no doubt, and much like the one in our honeymoon den, it was covered with thick blankets and a mountain of pillows. It looked comfortable and ready for an exhausted couple to fall dream-first into it.

But I knew Grey wasn’t interested in sleeping.

Frankly, neither was I.

To left of the bed was a small table with two chairs. It looked expensive, like something an interior designer had accidentally left behind. A bowl of fruit, a tray of various nuts, and, sweet mercy, a multi-tiered dessert display with chocolate truffles and mini-cakes made up the gastronomic treasures.

My
belly rumbled, and I realized the only meal I’d consumed today was the sandwich, apple, and glass of tea that Aunt Lila had brought to me after Grey had scented me and left.

The clang of the door shutting had me whirling around. The heavy iron key squealed as it locked us into the prison.

“You should eat.” Grey crossed the room. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, Belle, so I had Aunt Lila choose for us.”

“It all looks wonderful. I do have a fondness for sweets.”

“You wouldn’t know it to look at you,” he said. “You appear malnourished. Don’t you eat?”

I knew werewolves preferred more curvy women, and I figured given time and my addiction to cake, I could gain some much needed weight.

“It’s been a nerve-wracking few months,” I admitted. “It affected my appetite.”

“You’ll need to be healthy to carry a werewolf baby.” He examined my midsection. “Alphas tend to breed quickly.”

I knew that. In fact, I’d been trying not to think about it too hard. Marriage, mating, and murder had taken up most of my mental anxieties.

“You’ll find some appropriate clothes in that dresser. Get comfortable, and I’ll make you a plate.”

“Appropriate clothes” appeared to mean “assorted lingerie.” I found a pink-lace teddy and matching underwear. I held them up, considering.

“Don’t bother putting on those,” said Grey. “You won’t need them.”

Oh, mercy.

I slipped off my clothes and put on the teddy. The lacy cloth hit mid-thigh, but the draft between my legs was somewhat disconcerting. “It’s not really dining attire,” I said.

“It is for where we’ll be dining.” He gestured to the bed.

“What about crumbs?” I asked indignantly.

Grey laughed. “We’ll manage. Life is messy, sweetheart. So is sex. And dirty, sweaty sex is the best kind, I promise you.”

Whew.
I crawled onto the massive bed and watched Grey finish piling treats on a plate. Not a single piece of fruit made it onto the dish. Satisfied with his selections, he quickly divested himself of his own clothing. He grabbed the plate and held it with one hand as he maneuvered himself onto the bed with me.

“Relax, Arabelle.” He nodded toward the pillows, and I sank into them, trying to get my limbs to lo
osen up. I felt as stiff as a board and as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

“
Let me feed you.” He offered a tiny cake, and I opened my mouth to accept. The sweet vanilla concoction melted on my tongue.

“Oh! That’s so good!”

Grey smiled. “Have another.” The next was silky raspberry and the one after, a delicious cinnamon. 

“Your turn.”
Boldly, I plucked a truffle hiding among the other desserts and pressed it against his lips. “Do you like chocolates?”

He nodded
. I pushed the treat inside his mouth. The chocolate was gone in an instant and then he sucked my finger, his tongue swirling around the tip.

Lightning flashed in my belly—hot, jagged,
and breath-stealing. I stared at him wide-eyed, and he smiled lazily. “Another one, please.”

He released my finger. I chose another truffle, this one an orb of white, and lifted it to his mouth. “
Let me take it from your lips.”

             
I did as he asked.

             
He leaned forward and delicately bit the truffle, his lips ghosting across mine. The light touch, the slightly forbidden way of taking both the dessert and my mouth at the same time had me tingling from head to toe. I took the rest of the chocolate into my mouth and savored it. I thought about savoring him in the same way.

             
“Best chocolate ever,” he said, “especially when it tastes like you.”

             
“I have a taste?”

             
“Oh, yes. You, my sweet Arabelle, are the most delicious treat I’ve ever licked.”

             
Mercy.
I thought about his scenting, about how he’d brought me to intense pleasure with that glorious mouth of his. His gentleness now caused the same kind of quivering as his fierce seduction then. 

He put the dish on the precarious stack of pillows above us and then focused on me. His fingertips drifted across my arm, down my side, to my hip. He slipped his strong hand under my buttock, cupping it and kneading it.

I swallowed heavily.

“Touch me,” he commanded softly.

“Where?”

“Wherever you want.”

I splayed my fingers against his broad, muscled chest. I felt a hot spark in my belly as I explored his firm flesh. “That feels good, Arabelle.”

His encouragement made me bolder still, and I explored the ridges of his stomach and the lean junctures of his hips. His manhood was already thick and hard, the mushroomed tip protruding from its sheath. I drew one fingertip around the veiny flesh, marveling at its strange elegance. It was almost as though I was examining artwork I didn’t understand, but that enthralled me all the same. 

Grey growled, a sound that sent electricity rocketing into my core.

I do believe I liked when his wolf noticed me—and let me know.

“Show me your body.”

I obliged by taking off the lace teddy. Grey
rolled me onto me back and covered me, his shaft nestling against my sex.

He kissed my shoulder. The oh-so-tender press of his lips against my flesh made me shudder…and teased out a breathy moan.

He tasted my collarbone, moved up my neck, and peppered kisses along my jaw.

His eyes were wolf, more wolf than I’d even seen. The shape of his irises, the swiftly changing color, the dark hunger reflected…
beautiful
.

He
fascinated me.

Grey stretched my arms above my head. My back arched slightly, my lace-covered breasts
pushed into his chest. Me nipples pebbled against his warm flesh.

The slow melding of our mouths made my breath hitch and my heart pound. His tongue slipped into my mouth and danced with mine. He let me explore his lips with my tongue, and even seemed to delight in when I denied
him briefly—so that I could be the one to kiss him. Take him. I felt awkward, unsure, but…inside me grew a delicious ache of wanton desire.

He cast a spell over me then, something inside just seemed to click into place. I knew that I was exactly where I belonged. It was not an accident. It was not Carolyn’s blame. It was not anything but real and right and true.

In this moment, I was ruled by the alpha.

By my own choice.

The dam of uncertainty broke within me. Having accepted,
welcomed
, the alpha into my dominion, in choosing him completely, I was free.

Free to be his mate, in word and deed. In our bed.

In my heart.

With one hand, he cupped my breast. His strong, warm fingers squeezed m
y flesh. He lightly pinched my nipple and the bud tightened. His tongue flicked the peak. Pleasure jolted through me.

“Grey,” I whispered.

He suckled my nipple while his fingers tormented the other. He would switch sides, back and forth, while his cock pressed sweetly against the swelling of my feminine flesh. 

I ran my hands down his body, seeking to touch him, to give him what he was giving me. My hands found his muscled buttocks and squeezed them because I could. I could, and no other
woman had the right.

Mine.

I felt ravenous, greedy.

I ached.

Yearned.

I wanted the delightful torture to last … and yet
, at the same time I wanted relief from it.

Grey kissed his way down my body. Then he pushed apart my legs to nuzzle the flesh at the vee of my thighs.

His tongue parted my slick folds and flicked the little pearl. “Oh!” I squirmed and Grey laughed, his hot breath teasing the hard nub of my femininity.

He settled between my thighs, his laving tongue creating wicked heat
and fulsome pleasure.

“Grey…” His name held the balance of my uncertainty, my need.

“It’s all right, Arabelle. Give in.”

I felt the rising of my pleasure, the blooming of something more intense, more wonderful than I’d ever known. Then the heat, the pure aching pleasure burst, and sensation after sensation rolled over me.
Through me.

As I moaned and trembled, Grey kissed his way up my body, his lips and fingers touching me everywhere. He easily stirred another bout of hunger, of need, of pure
unrestrained craving.

He slid his arms under me and cupped my shoulders.
His beautiful hair curtained around us as his cock slowly penetrated me, and I was grateful that he took his time. Our first experience had been rough, had been about claiming, about taking. And now there was this. Mating. A beautiful tender joining of two bodies. I was beginning to realize that sex was an endless landscape that needed to be explored. The more I learned about this wild land of taste and touch and primal need…the more I wanted.

Grey filled me, stretched me. He let my body get used to him, and he held me close, breathing hotly onto my neck, shuddering with his own feral longing.