I wrap a hand around the back of her neck, fingers pressing into warm flesh. Zara's eyes widen at the sensation, her breath catching in her throat. I don't let go. If anything, I squeeze harder—just enough to see that reaction again. Helpless. Beautiful.
"Josh—" she croaks out. Her fingers encircle mine, begging for mercy. I sling her over my shoulder, delicately walking toward the conference room at the end of the hallway. I slam the door so hard that the impact resonates.
She is mine. Mine to destroy, and tame.
I throw her across the long center table. Her clothes slide, revealing a set of pink-worn-out panties. I adjust myself— it's taking every bit of self-control not to jump in and claim her, feverishly. My wolf is more concerned with the pleasure of his mate. He wants to take it slow, I don't.
Zara is sprawled like a damsel in distress, her labored breathing almost mistaken for moans, fingers spread over her thighs, desperately trying to cover up.
"No." I yank her hands away, leaning toward her slowly until our abdomens are nearly touching.
I brush a strand of hair from her forehead. Bending over sensually, I whisper in her ear, firm and low, "Mine."
I rub my hands over her face, the skin so soft and supple I can't help but place a feathery kiss on it.
Then I slam my lips over hers, sucking and licking. My hands search for skin beneath her dress, massaging the ridge of her breasts, urgently.
She whimpers, I take that as a cue. I press my mouth to hers again, our cries lost in our desire.
"Josh—Josh," she cries out.
I pin her hands over her head. The absence of the title drives me crazy — it unleashes the dominant side of me that's been caged and sets it free.
I have so many forbidden things I could do to her — things unimaginable, yet pleasurable.
"It's Alpha Josh to you."
My lips hover above hers, pecking the rosy, swollen flesh repeatedly.
Her mouth is agape. She tries to speak but can't. No sound forms — only a gasp for more.
"I've never done this before," she stammers.
She sits up, pushing me away, her hands instinctively covering her exposed breasts.
"Can we take this slow?" she fidgets with her fingers.
I lift her chin gently. "Look at me."
I ignore my wolf, despite his intentions to grant my mate her wishes.
I pull her panties off, clenching my teeth in frustration when they get stuck in the process.
"Dammit." I yank it loose, and it drops to the floor in a puddle.
"Tell me to stop." I draw a pattern across her hip bone, marking it. My eyes stay locked on hers, watching every flicker of expression.
Her moans fuel me. Her quivering lips drive me mad—and all I want is to make her mine.
This is a punishment. I hired a shapeshifter—and had her test Zara by taking the form of her best friend. Omegas crack under pressure. I was right. I was damn right—she was going to leave me.
"I'm not stopping." I rush the words out before she can speak.
No one leaves me and gets away scot-free. No one.
"I didn't want to leave—Oh, God—"
I slide a finger in, curling and uncurling, trying to adjust. She's so tight, I can't hold back the moan that escapes me.
I thrust my hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction. I grind against her thighs, chasing release—anything.
I've slept with a lot of women before. I did carnal things to them—stuff straight out of a porn magazine. But none of them turn me on like she does.
She's a slut with a pretty, innocent face. One glance, and I'll lose it.
"I'm a virgin," she blurts out.
I freeze. The fingers I had inside her were soaking wet.
She sits solemnly, head buried in her thighs, arms wrapped around her trembling body.
"I—you—"
What the hell is one supposed to do in a situation like this?
My wolf is furious. I can feel his emotions tearing through me—agitated, frustrated. He finally found his mate after all this time, and now he's losing her.
Because of me.
I screw everything up. That's what I'm good at. Good things happen to good people—not to us.
"You stole my first kiss," Zara says softly, repeating the exact words she whispered after our first kiss, just yesterday.
Her fingers grip her hair so tightly she winces.
"You're just being overdramatic right now. My father is trying to take the throne from me, and all you can think about is the fact that you lost your first kiss. You're so damn self-centered.You know what? I thought… whatever this is, I thought it could work. I thought I could have something — anything — even if everything else has been taken away from me."
I reach for my discarded clothes, slinging the wrinkled suit jacket over my shoulders.
"No. Please… I'm so sorry," Zara mutters, so softly it tugs at something in my hardened soul.
Shit. I want to hug her. Stroke her hair until the tremors stop.
But those aren't my thoughts — those are my wolf's.
Me? I ignore him. I always do. I say what I feel — rashly and clearly.
"You're an Omega. Know your place."
I point to her tattered clothing. She scrambles to cover herself, but there are too many holes. The color is faded, like everything else that's been drained from her.
"Start acting like one."
That hits a nerve.
She flinches — hard — nearly falling off the massive table. She steadies herself, then limps toward where her panties landed, one hand over her mouth, muffling her cries.
Maybe I'm cruel for what I did next but I yanked her panties off the floor and stuffed them into the pocket of my trousers.
I don't like being cruel. But I feed off fear.
Being mated to her won't change that. Nothing will change that.
I rule this Pack. I have every damn right to keep whatever the hell I want.
"Get some new clothes. Find Lily and tell her to get you something decent, Omega."
This is the right thing to do.
It has to be.