Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Chapter 845 - 61 : He’s Mine

Chapter 845: Chapter 61 : He’s Mine

*Eliza*

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to happen.

Jared was walking around the room, gathering his clothes and tossing them in a pile by the door. He staunched the fire and turned out the lamp in the far corner of the room, all while I stood awkwardly in the threshold to the bathroom.

“Is there anything you need from your room?” he asked through the near-total darkness.

He turned on a lamp on his bedside table, his body illuminated by soft amber light. Naked, except for boxers, he was a vision. The light washed over every ridge and tight muscle of his body, which rippled as he roughly pulled the thick velvet covers down over black satin sheets.

I shook my head as I padded into the bedroom, grabbing my journal.

I could tell he was fine interrupting whatever Scarlett and Archer were up to right now, but I wasn’t. I also had the urge to just go sit on the couch instead of climbing into bed beside him.

But touching him... running my fingers through his thick hair while he sat against my knees had been a dream, the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment something I hadn’t been expecting.

I was so used to him looking down on me, not the other way around.

“I love you, more than anything,” he’d said.

I hadn’t said it back, even though I’d wanted to.

Maybe it was because I had no idea what was going to happen next. Telling Jared I loved him... would it make it even harder to accept that I might lose him if my grand plan didn’t work?

He watched me as I slowly made my way to bed. I slid between the sheets, settling myself against the headboard with my journal in my lap. The bed trembled as he got in and forcefully ruffled the sheets to suit his needs. I glowered.

“You’re a guest in this bed,” he said with mock seriousness, his mouth twitching into a boyish smile. “I’m not going to let you steal the covers like you usually do.”

“I don’t steal the covers,” I protested.

He only smirked and settled against his pillow. I looked down at my journal, my stomach tightening as I opened it to the last page I’d written.

I was going to write about what had happened today, but I didn’t have a pen.

“Here,” Jared said with a grunt, rolling over to reach into the drawer in the bedside table.

He handed me a pen, and our fingertips brushed for a second longer than they needed to. I glanced at him, and he glanced at me.

“Is it going to bother you if I write for a minute?” I whispered.

“No,” he replied, his hand leaving mine.

But he didn’t roll back over. He watched me as I began to scribble my thoughts out on paper, letting that tangled web in my brain loosen with each word.

“You have the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen,” he mused.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, glaring.

“Don’t worry, I can’t read a damn thing you’re writing.”

“When you’re out in the field,” I said in a practical growl, “you don’t have much time to sit down and focus on whether your handwriting is pretty, Jared.”

He shrugged, giving me a wry and sleepy smile.

“No wonder you’re so good at cracking codes and reading ancient maps.” His voice was tinged with heat. “You have to decipher your own handwriting.”

I scribbled a few more lines, trying to distract myself from the heat blossoming in my own body. He rarely teased like this, not since before we... well, before he became overprotective and dead-set on forcing me back to my homeland.

“I’ve read your journal before, you know. At least I’ve tried.”

“I know,” I replied flatly, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. “You never put the ribbon back on the right page.”

“There’s quite a bit about us in there–”

“I wouldn’t have much to write about if I didn’t include you,” I whispered, scribbling a little flower on the corner of the page. “Do you keep a journal?”

“If I did,” he said quietly, then yawned hugely, stretching out his arms and legs, “you wouldn’t be able to find it.”

His leg brushed against my bare toes, a jolt of electricity rippling through my body against his unintentional touch.

“You’re taking up the whole bed,” I griped.

He only smiled. “You never complained about it before.”

“I never–” I screamed as a clap of thunder echoed through the room, followed by a ribbon of blue-hued lightning. The lamp on the table sputtered, then turned off. An eerie silence descended over Abel’s fortress, broken only by the rain hammering against the window.

Jared only yawned while my whole body went rigid.

“We’re fine–”

Another clap of thunder ripped through the air, followed by more lightning. I screeched; I couldn’t help it. A furious blush stained my cheeks and a nervous giggle escaped my throat. Jared propped himself up on his elbow, watching me with marked curiosity.

“Are you going to live?” he said with a laugh.

“Yes–”

Another thunderclap drowned out my words and the embarrassing reaction that followed. Another screech left my mouth, tears welling in my eyes this time. Jared pulled me into his chest and held me still, his breath tickling the rim of my ear.

“Not used to thunderstorms?”

“We don’t have them in Winter Forest,” I whispered, my heart racing as I settled against him.

His warmth permeated my skin as he wrapped his arms around my middle, his tattoos illuminated by the lightning strikes.

“I’m being a baby,” I whispered.

“You are–”

The house shook as thunder cracked directly over our heads. The wind was howling, a terrifying hum drifting through the stone walls. Jared held me a little tighter, laying us both down against the pillows. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heart beating in a slow rhythm. His fingertips trailed over my arms, sending a ripple of gooseflesh over my body. “It’s just a storm. It’ll pass.”

I slid my leg over his, snuggling deeper into his touch as the world seemed to split open over our heads again and again.

His heat was almost fevered, warming us both from the inside out.

His hand slid over my back, fingers brushing beneath my shirt and over the curve of my waist. I closed my eyes, wincing as another clap of thunder ripped through the room. I held him tighter, my fingers digging into the skin just below his armpit. He sucked in a breath and squirmed.

“Stop it right now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What? What’s the matter?” I trailed my fingers down his side and he trembled beneath my touch, his entire body going rigid like he was in full defense mode.

Oh, my Goddess....

I propped myself up, looking down at the grimace on his face.

He opened one eye, scowling.

“Eliza–”

“You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Don’t even think about it!” he roared as I tickled him mercilessly, his hands clasping my wrists and drawing them together. “Little witch–”

“Big, scary brute of a man is a wee bit ticklish,” I teased, trying to break free of his grip.

He flipped me over so he was on top of me, crushing me with his weight.

“You called me a sadist once,” he rasped, dragging his teeth over my jaw. “I think you’re the one–”

“Tickling someone doesn’t make them a sadist. Does Archer know? I can’t wait to tell him–” I sucked in my breath as he kissed my neck, nibbling and sucking the tender flesh just above my collarbone. I couldn’t hold back the whimpering moan that left my lips, the subdued heat in my body now pooling in my core.

“If you tickle me again,” he breathed, his voice full of gravel, “I’ll make you suffer.”

“Promise me,” I begged, my eyelids fluttering as his breath fanned over my ear.

He let out a low, violet chuckle as he lessened his weight on my body and spread my arms wide beneath him, pinning them to the pillows.

“I promise,” he whispered as another rolling clap of thunder barreled against the house, drowning out my whimper as he rolled his hips against mine. His cock was pressed against my thighs, hard and desperate.

He let go of my wrist and gripped the pillows, rocking himself into me as I left out another gasp. I could have sworn he flinched as I brought my hands up to run them through his hair. He thought I was going to tickle him again. I definitely wanted to. There was something about knowing that I had something over him, something secret, something that could bring him to his knees... even if it was only that this dark force of a man had ticklish armpits.

He balanced on his forearms, then pulled away completely, straddling me as he slowly unbuttoned my pajama top. I was panting, my arms splayed wide again as he took his achingly sweet time removing my top. The storm continued to roll overhead, the lightning flashing blue and silver over his skin. He looked like some dark god from times forgotten as his muscles flexed and strained as I rolled my core into his cock, a desperate plea to fucking hurry leaving my lips.

He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a primal jolt of desire ripping through me. Maybe his shadow sensed it, and maybe that’s why he inhaled hugely and gripped my shirt with all of his strength. He was holding back. He was always holding back.

I was connected in some way to his curse. How, I didn’t know. And at that moment, I didn’t care. I placed my hands on his bare chest, spreading my palms wide over his tight muscles.

“Lay down,” I breathed, then fought back against the whimper threatening to escape my throat as he thrust against me, his cock dragging over my inner thighs. Only his boxers and my pajama pants separated us now.

“Why?”

“Please,” I whispered.

He stole the word with a kiss so deep it left me trembling as he flipped me over so I was laying against his chest. I ran kisses along his jaw and neck, then began to shimmy down. He tried to keep a hold on me but I evaded him, my tongue darting out as I brushed my lips over his middle.

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh,” I whispered, running my hands down his thighs as I positioned myself.

He sucked in his breath as I inched his boxers down over his thighs. I looked up at him, his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Eliza,” he rasped.

I gave him a cat-like grin.

There was no way I was going to be able to fit all of him in my mouth. It wasn’t possible, and that was just simple physics.

But I was going to try.

I was down for a game if his shadow wanted to play. He was mine, and I planned to make that very, very clear to the curse roiling through his blood.

I licked him from the base of his shaft all the way to the head, relishing in the taste of him as he hissed out his breath and threw his head back into the pillow, his hands tangling in my hair.

“Shit,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as I made quick work of swallowing him whole.

I could barely breathe, but seeing and feeling him come absolutely undone could have brought me to my knees if I hadn’t already been on them.

I was teasing him, my movements shifting from so gentle he was begging, to rough and wet. It wasn’t until I let my teeth barely graze him that he cried out, straining and shuttering beneath me.

I felt that shadow then, and it was pissed. Jared wasn’t even thinking about it right now because his thoughts were wholly consumed on the way I was drawing every ounce of pleasure from his body. He wasn’t thinking about accidentally losing control and hurting me. I was willing him to lose control, to let me lead... and he did.

I pulled away, gasping for breath. Fire blazed behind his eyes as he looked up at me like I was some goddess sent to either punish or save him. He ripped down my pants and then flipped me onto my back, driving every thick inch of himself into me with one thrust that had me seeing stars.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me against his chest as he thrust, rolling his hips as his shouts of pure ecstasy mingled and blurred with my own.

“Oh, Jared–” I cried, and a few real tears slipped free from my eyes as I hummed back a sob from pleasure I’d never experienced before in my life.

His mouth met mine, frantic and all-consuming, and in moments I was slipping over the edge of oblivion and panting in his arms.

He spilled himself into me, holding me there, refusing to let me go.

He brushed his lips against mine. I took his face between my hands, pressing my forehead against his.

He was mine. He was MINE.

Fuck the curse, and fuck his shadow. They couldn’t have him.