Chapter 6

Allison

The moment Roman’s lips slammed into mine, every ounce of resistance I had built up dissolved into pure, unadulterated chaos.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It wasn't the kiss of the best friend who had walked me home in the rain or teased me at breakfast. This was the kiss of a starving man, an Alpha claiming his mate in the dark, cold underbelly of the city.

He groaned deep in his throat, a raw, animalistic sound that vibrated straight down into my core. His tongue slid into my mouth, taking up space, dominant and possessive, tasting of top-shelf whiskey and the sharp, clean winter air of the alleyway.

My inner wolf didn't just submit; she celebrated. She rose up to meet him, flooding my veins with a intoxicating rush of heat that made my head spin. My hands, which had been beating against his chest only seconds ago, tangled desperately into his dark, damp hair, pulling him closer, anchoring myself to him as the world tilted on its axis.

I whined against his mouth, a pathetic, needy sound that only seemed to push him over the edge.

Roman’s hand at the back of my neck tightened, his fingers gripping my hair to tilt my head back further, exposing the long, sensitive line of my throat. He tore his mouth from mine, his lips trailing a path of fire down my jawline, biting softly at the sensitive skin right beneath my ear.

"Al," he breathed, his voice a ruined, gravelly mess. His hot breath fanned against my damp skin, sending a violent shiver straight down to my thighs. "You're mine. Say it. Tell me you feel it."

"Roman," I choked out, my hands gripping his broad shoulders as my knees threatened to completely buckle. If he wasn't holding my waist so tightly, I would have dropped right onto the asphalt. "The... the girl..."

"Ffuck the girl," he growled, his teeth grazing the soft skin of my neck, right over the spot where his mark would eventually go. I gasped, my fingers digging into his suit jacket. "There is no one else, Allie. Never again. Look at what you do to me."

He grabbed my hand, tearing it from his shoulder, and dragged it down his chest. He forced my palm flat against his trousers, right over the hard, rigid length of his arousal straining against the heavy fabric.

I gasped, my eyes flying open, the heat in my face turning into a literal sunburn. He was huge. Thick and unyielding, pulsing beneath my palm.

"I've been in agony for five years, Al," Roman whispered against my lips, his silver eyes burning into mine through the shadows. "Every time you wore my hoodies, every time you sat next to me on the couch... I was losing my goddamn mind. You think I wanted that girl? I wanted you. I've only ever wanted you."

The sincerity in his voice, mixed with the absolute, crushing power of the mate bond, finally broke the last of my defenses. The image of the blonde model faded, replaced by the terrifying, exhilarating reality of the man standing in front of me.

But before I could speak, the heavy metal door of the club rattled again.

"Roman! Allie!"

Zane’s voice echoed down the alleyway, tight and furious. The heavy thud of his boots against the pavement was getting closer.

Roman froze, his entire body going completely rigid against mine. A dark, territorial growl ripped from his chest, his silver eyes flashing toward the mouth of the alley. His wolf was furious at the interruption, ready to tear into anyone who tried to come between him and his mate—even his best friend.

"We have to go," I whispered frantically, my hand gripping his silk shirt. "Roman, if Zane sees us like this, if he sees your eyes... he'll know."

Roman swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he forced his wolf back under control. The silver in his eyes receded slightly, a thin ring of deep, intense blue returning around his pupils. He looked down at me, his chest heaving as he took a slow, stabilizing breath.

"We're leaving," he decided, his voice low and absolute.

He didn't put me down. Instead, he shifted his grip, scooping his arm under my knees and lifting me into a bridal carry. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder to hide from the cold wind—and from the paparazzi that might be waiting at the front.

"Roman!" Zane’s voice was closer now, just around the corner of the brick wall.

"Go to the SUV detail at the front," Roman called out into the darkness, his voice smooth and entirely commanding, leaving no room for argument. "Tell them to pull around to the private side exit. I've got Allie. She's freezing, and I'm taking her back to the penthouse."

There was a tense silence from the other side of the wall. I held my breath, my heart hammering against Roman's ribs.

"Is she okay?" Zane asked, his voice dripping with suspicious protective brother energy.

"She's fine, Zane," Roman responded, his grip on my thighs tightening slightly in a silent, possessive reassurance meant only for me. "I've got her. Just get the car."

A heavy sigh echoed through the alley. "Fine. But if she so much as sneezes tomorrow, I'm throwing you into the boards at practice."

The sound of Zane's boots retreated back inside the club.

Roman didn't waste another second. He turned, carrying me effortlessly through the shadows of the side alley toward the private, secure parking lane where his personal, blacked-out luxury SUV was already idling. The driver, seeing the future Alpha approaching with his mate in his arms, quickly scrambled out to open the heavy rear door.

Roman slid into the back seat, pulling me right along with him, never letting my body leave his lap.

The door slammed shut, sealing us into the dark, warm sanctuary of the leather interior. The partition between the back and the front was already raised, completely cutting us off from the driver.

"Roman, the girls—" I started, but the words were completely swallowed as Roman captured my mouth again.

He pulled my body flush against his, his hand sliding all the way up the bare skin of my back, his fingers digging into my shoulder as he deepened the kiss. The car pulled away from the curb, moving smoothly into the Chicago traffic, but the only thing I could feel was the white-hot, electric current of my mate's hands all over my body.

"No more talking tonight, Al," Roman murmured against my lips, his hand sliding down to the hem of my blue satin dress, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my upper thigh. "Tonight, you're finally mine."