Kiss Of The Alpha

Chapter One

Safira

“Arch your back more, Safira. Make it perfect.”

“Hold out your tongue, curl it around his cock and don’t stop. Even if you’re tired, even if your jaw hurts, don’t stop.”

I emptied the glass in one gulp, the cold burn slicing down my throat, hoping—desperately—that this would be the last, that it would finally silence the memories clawing through my mind.

But the voices in my head were louder than the thumping bass of the club. Each word Silas had spat at me an hour ago felt like a physical brand on my skin, burning hotter than the expensive scotch sliding down my throat.

I didn’t remember getting to the bar. I just knew I had thrown my jacket over what I was wearing, called my friends, Tessa and Mae, gut-wrenching tears rolling down my cheeks.

I took another shot, barely closing my eyes as it burned through my throat, and just like that, I was no longer in that bar.

I was back in his room, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I had spent over half an hour rehearsing and perfecting my pose on his bed, wearing just the two-hundred-dollar lace lingerie I bought in red—his favorite color—with a bottle of wine in hand, a pack of protection on the bed, ready for the thrilling an ecstatic night. My muscles ached, but I didn’t stop. I had to be perfect. I wanted to be the reason Silas finally lost his breath, and just the thought of succeeding at that had my core aching.

I had tried before.

He just was never impressed.

This time, I had the night planned out to the last detail.

Then the door burst open.

I remember how the smile on my face faded off, little by little until my face lost its entire color, pale as a rain-washed rose, as the horror unfolded in front of me.

My fingers trembled around the wine glass, my entire body frozen as the room was instantly flooded with the sounds of aggressive, hungry kisses and the kind of guttural moans Silas had never once given me.

I watched, paralyzed, as he backed Tinah—the cousin who visited every few weeks—against the dresser. They were half-naked, tangled together with a raw intensity that made my stomach turn.

He had never touched me like that. Not once.

I was there on the bed, every part of me screaming, “Look at me, I’m right here,” but my lips were too heavy to part, my body too frozen to react. I was a two-hundred-dollar masterpiece in a room with people too consumed by each other to even notice I existed.

Silas pulled back, cupping her face gently, staring at her like she was the most gorgeous thing on earth, and it was in that moment I realized he had never looked at me that way.

“God… I’m such a fool,” I whispered breathlessly, the realization settling deep, wrestling with the last bit of esteem I had left.

“I fucking love you and I’ve missed you. We don’t have to pretend anymore. I got the admission, I don’t have to put up with that boring bitch. I don’t have keep pretending to be the mate of that wordless dud.”

Dud.

A boring bitch.

That was what I was to him.

“God, no.” I buried my face in my hands, fighting back the tears burning in my eyes. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry again, that I would do anything—anything—to get over this.

But I didn’t know how.

I wanted this pain gone, I wanted these memories out of my head. Yet each gulp only made his voice louder, sharper, crueler, pulling me back to relive those painful moments.

He had said. “I just needed your brain to get into the academy. I thought, just maybe we could have a good time, but you’re just a wet wood that can’t be lit up, wolfless and boring. I had to deal with all those months of boring sex to keep you. I never wanted you.”

I signaled the bartender for another double, then immediately changed my mind. “Make it four shots.”

“No, Safi.” My friend, Tessa placed her hand over mine, shaking her head. “You’ve had enough.”

How do I tell her it wasn’t even close to enough? That the voices wouldn’t stop, that I needed more, anything, to silence them?

“I think I know what might help,” Mae said, leaning forward. “A distraction.”

I raised a brow.

“Yes, Safi, a distraction is what you need.” She pulled her chair closer. “How about we play a game? Truth or dare. One round of truths. One round of dares. By the end of it, you won’t even remember that bastard.”

Tessa nodded, her face brightening up, she tucked my arm into hers. “Let’s do that. It’ll help Safi.”

I nodded in response and there, the game started. The first round of truths successfully reduced the echoes of the aching words in my head. When it got to my round of dare, Mae looked around, eyes scanning through the bar and then a huge smile fell on her face.

“There.” Tessa and I turned to where she pointed at. “I dare you to go kiss that guy sitting there, he seems like he needs a partner and…”

“What!” Tessa cut in. “You can’t dare her to do that, Mae, that’s suicide. We don’t even know who that man is, he…”

“Why not?” I chimed in, already standing from my chair before I could rethink what I was about to do.

Did Tessa really think of me that way? That I was boring? A wolfless dud? An undesirable outcast?

“I just think you…”

I didn’t let her finish. “Watch me.” I said it too fast, like I needed to convince myself more than her.

I pushed the chair to the side, my legs moving before I could rethink it. That alone irritated me, but the mix of scotch and Silas’s betrayal fueled a sudden, dangerous recklessness in me.

I told myself I wouldn’t just kiss him, I would make him want me, make him remember me, prove—if only for one reckless night—that I wasn’t the kind of woman a man could forget.

I was about to step into the VIP booth when two bulging guards stepped in my way. My heart sank deep into my stomach, the confidence I had been clinging to started to flicker just enough for doubt to creep in.

I almost turned back then, almost let the embarrassment win, but the moment I considered it, the thought of Silas’s words and everything I had lived through hardened something inside me again, my feet started moving even when I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted them to.

The guards didn’t move, and each step i took further felt like proof or humiliation waiting to happen.

Then a hand lifted from the center booth, a slow silent wave that sent the guards scrambling backward, shifting the entire energy in the space. I just stood there for a moment longer than I should have, my chest tightening, before I forced myself to keep going, drawn forward by not just the determination to prove myself, but also by something I couldn’t name yet.

The closer I got, the more the air grew thicker, an unexplainable tension brimming in the air. I slowed again, my steps losing slightly, my breath uneven, catching slightly as though my body had reacted before I had given it permission to.

I told myself it was nothing, that I was in control, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I wasn’t there to be nervous, I was there to take control of a moment that has been slipping out of my hands since Silas’s voice had taken root in my head.

But then, I slipped.

It was small, almost laughably so, the kind of mistake that should have ended in simple laugh and nothing more. I expected to catch myself, my hands flapped through the air for anything to grasp, but there was nothing. Yet, I didn’t hit the ground.

His hand was already there.

He hauled me upward, his grip strong and steady, pulling me flush against a chest so broad and warm that the air left my lungs before I could even decide how I was supposed to feel about it.

That made my skin crawl.

Because I didn’t planned for gentleness. Not from a stranger. Not after what I had just walked out of.

I stood slowly, but the stranger’s hand didn’t leave immediately, and that was when I became achingly aware of where his hand was… one hand firm on my waist, the other brushing against my breast which had been starved of any form of touch for months.

The realization should have irritated me, made me step back instantly, but instead my nipples hardened painfully against the fabric of my clothes, a soft, involuntary gasp slipping past my lips before I could stop it. His touch was warm, reigniting every hidden need within me.

He seemed to notice a second later and he withdrew his hand almost immediately, his lips parting as he mouthed a quiet apology, but the damage had already been done.

Because now I was aware.

Aware of his touch.

Aware of how it felt.

And worse… aware of how much I wanted his hand back there… on my breast.

All I could see in that moment was his hand. Warm, steady and large. I could already imagine those same fingers wrapped around my wrists, holding them in places above my head without effort and the image came so vividly that it made my stomach tighten into pleasureful knots, heat pooling low in my belly.

My eyes wandered, tracing the width of his shoulders, the strength in his arms. He was noticeably tall and huge, it didn’t even take seconds before my mind betrayed me again, going wild beyond my grasp, imagining how it would feel if he decided to stop being gentle.

No.

No, Safira.

I shook my head slightly, trying to push the thoughts away.

He wasn’t supposed to have this effect on me.

He was a goddamn stranger, a man I was supposed to just kiss and leave hanging.

But the thoughts kept coming anyway—uninvited, unwanted… and disturbingly, almost comforting.

And then he spoke.

“Did you miss your way, little one?”

His voice was so low, deep, touched with a slight hoarseness that sent shivers traveling down my spine before I even realized I was reacting, just to the sound of his voice. And what he called me… little one, made me feel like a newborn opening its eyes to see the sun for the first time.

I looked up.

And for a second… I forgot what I was there to do.

He was… unreal. So damn gorgeous.

I could have sworn this was all an imagination, a dream, if I wasn’t aware of the sensations that kept pulsing through my body.

He had a dark brown hair with faint streaks of grey woven through it. God… he had the most gorgeous eyes I had ever scene, they were a hypnotic shade of blue eyes, like the heart of winter itself, staring down at me with so much raw, heavy admiration that I felt a sharp, aching throb between my legs, intense and deep.

He looked older, easily in his mid-forties, wearing a sleek striped shirt with the first top buttons undone, revealing the solid build of his chest.

My eyes swayed lower, just for a second too long, catching the visible outline beneath his dark ash trousers before I forced myself to look away, my thoughts already beginning to slip somewhere wild.

While I was still trying to control my thoughts, he pulled me closer, the solid bulge of his cock pressing between my thighs, sending a sharp jolt through my body, stealing whatever breath I had managed to recover.

“You seem like you want something.” His voice came again, electric awareness sizzling across my skin. I looked up at him, my gaze drawn to his lips now, watching the way they moved as he added. “Tell me.”

My eyes remained on those pair of tempting lips, my heart slamming harder against my ribs each moment I hesitated.

“Kiss me.” I said finally, almost choking on my own words. “I want you… to kiss me.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Little one, you don’t ask a man like me for a kiss.”

“Why?”

He leaned closer, his hot breath reducing me into a shaky, wet mess. “Because I’m not a gentleman.”

“That’s exactly what I need.” I said it too fast before I could think, my body betraying my every thought. “I don’t…”

His lips crashed into mine before I could finish, cutting off whatever weak resistance I had left, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

His tongue swept in with a heavy, desperate hunger that made my brain short-circuit. It was like he had been waiting for me all night, just to do this.

Hell, I didn't just feel the kiss in my mouth; I felt it in my marrow. In every part of me.

His hand slid up to the back of my head, holding me in place—not forcing, but not giving me room to retreat either. And the worst part was… I didn’t want to.

I should have.

Because this was supposed to be quick. Just enough to prove a point, to leave him wanting. But the moment he pressed me closer, I felt something crack within me—my resistance.

His other hand dropped lower and he gripped my waist, his fingers digging into the meat of my bum, squeezing with a raw intensity that pulled me flush against the rock-hard length of his cock.

I could feel him, but I wanted more than just that. There was no space left between us, yet I found my fingers curling into his chest, arching my back, trying to merge my skin into his.

I needed more.

God… I needed his hands to move so bad, to slide beneath the goddamn coat, to find the $200 lace, to soothe the already screaming, heavy ache in my pussy that Silas had never even bothered to acknowledge.

Hell, I didn’t even know who this man was, I didn’t know where he came from. But everytime his teeth grazed my lip, a fresh wave of wetness settled between my thighs, making my legs tremble until I was leaning entirely on his strength.

I didn't know when my fingers began to dig into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until our heartbeats were slamming against each other in a frantic, uneven rhythm. I was a writer, but I had no words for this. I was a tutor, but I was the one being schooled. I was supposed to be in control, yet I was delightfully losing control to him.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to disappear into the scent projecting off him, to let this man take everything Silas said was boring and burn it to the ground. Hell, it was the best kiss I had ever had, it was the kind that made you forget everything and leave you with nothing but raw and deep need to be touched, to be devoured, to be fucked.

And I… I wanted to be fucked by this man.

I let out a broken moan into his mouth, my hips betraying me as they sought the pressure of his cock, grinding against him, soothing the ache between my legs, a silent plea for him to never let me go, for him to do more.

He broke the kiss just enough to catch his breath and a frustrating groan slipped through my lips. I thought it was over, but he didn't let me go. He hiked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he slammed me back against the booth, his eyes glowing with a terrifying hunger. For a heartbeat, he just stared, his chest heaving against mine.

"Mate," he growled, the word vibrating through my skin.

I was still smiling, the taste of him lingering on my tongue, but as the word echoed in my head again, my heart stopped.

Mate.

The one thing Silas said I’d never have. The one thing a wolf-less dud was never supposed to find.

“My mate,” he repeated, his voice dropping into a possessive, territorial rumble.