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I clear my throat. “Coffee?” The word is both invitation and confession.
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2025-09-11 23:57:42
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Contract Marriage To The Alpha King I clear my throat. “Coffee?” The word is both invitation and confession.
Damian’s POV The walk to the breakfast nook is a torment of restraint. Ava trails behind, lost in the silence that falls between us while I check my phone—wary, alert. My hand aches to reach for her, to claim her in daylight. But I settle for glancing back, finding her peeking around the kitchen corner in one of my shirts—the hem brushing her bare thighs, her hair falling wild over fragile shoulders. The sight makes me want to call in sick and lock the world out. I clear my throat. “Coffee?” The word is both invitation and confession. She beams, padding across the kitchen with bare feet. “Strong.” I watch her pour the mugs, hands shaking subtly. I want to steal each one, cover them in my mouth and mark her where no one else can see. She hands me a cup, fingers brushing mine. “Your calls start in five minutes,” she murmurs, gaze radiating longing. I lean close—just enough so only she can hear. “Come to my office after the meeting. I want you under my desk.” My voice is gravel, lo
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “You should still be in bed,” he says, voice carrying a low, private warmth meant for my ears alone.
Damian’s POV I hold her, my Ava—my wife—between worlds. Heat and water swirl with crushed rose petals around us, their scent thick and heady enough to drug my wolf. The remnants of our night linger in the air, imprinted between the lines of her skin: moans muffled by my mouth, whispered confessions, raw promises made with trembling hands. No one would ever know. The world only saw her as my secretary—obedient, useful, unworthy of a second look—but right now she is everything; she is mine. Her body shivers faintly against mine, the bath gone tepid but the aftermath still burning. I keep tracing slow circles on her back, memorizing every dip and ridge, every freckle hidden beneath damp skin and half-drowned rose petals. She’s more beautiful after pleasure, her guard broken, lips swollen, eyes soft and glazed. Under my palm I feel her pulse—steady, alive, fragile—and my heart threatens to shatter with it. She breathes quietly, breaths feathering my jaw and stirring my chest hair. F
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “Damian,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m close.”
Ava’s POV The first thing I registered was the scent of roses. Not faint—heady, overwhelming, filling the entire room as if the walls themselves had bloomed overnight. The aroma was so intense it was almost intoxicating, a sweet, musky perfume that seemed to seep into my skin. I blinked awake, sheets still tangled around me, Damian’s arm heavy across my waist. His chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths. He wasn’t truly asleep—I’d learned the difference. His body was too alert, too taut, even when he pretended. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood,” he murmured against my hair, voice deep and gravelly from sleep. The title still made my heart jolt. No one else in the world knew. To everyone, I was just his personal secretary. To him, I was… everything. I rolled in his hold, facing him. “Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.” My lips brushed his jaw, stubble rough beneath my mouth. “You planned something.” His smirk was pure sin. “Guilty.” Before I could question further, he scooped m
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “Have you been waiting all day?” she teased, gentle but challenging. She took a step, closing the distance, hips swaying, eyes locked on mine.
Damian’s POV The elevator thrummed floor by floor, the metallic hush swallowed by the sound of her breath against mine—quick, uneven, reckless. My reflection flashed in the mirror: jaw clenched, eyes dilated, hair mussed by her hands. I looked like a man possessed. No—worse. A man undone. Ava’s mouth parted beneath mine, her lips yielding with every hungry kiss. The taste of her—clean and sweet, threaded with vanilla and something wild—pulled me deeper. My wolf pressed impossibly close, teeth grazing the inside of my mind, yanking at the leash. Claim her here. Now. Let the whole damn building smell it. Not yet, I ground out, though my restraint was little more than a fraying thread. My hands curved around Ava’s waist, pulling her tighter, fingers splayed to feel every inch of heat. Her fingers knotted in my hair, tugging, spurring me on. I grazed my teeth across her jaw, barely holding back the urge to bite. “You’re supposed to be patient,” she whispered, voice shaking against
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “You look beautiful when you’re bossy.”
Damian's POV By noon, productivity was a distant dream. She finished typing an agenda for tomorrow’s quarterly board meeting, eyes flickering between the screen and me. I watched her lips move as she whispered each item, double-checking for mistakes. My gaze lingered until she looked up, mocking impatience in her stare. “Am I boring you?” “On the contrary,” I replied. “I’m mesmerized.” My grin was wolfish. “You look beautiful when you’re bossy.” She tried to glare but failed, her lips twitching. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to start mispronouncing all our clients’ names.” I leaned back, folding my arms. “Maybe I want to see you make mistakes. Forces me to keep you after hours to correct them.” She blushed. “You sound like you already plan to.” I dropped the act for a moment, letting the truth show in my voice—raw, honest. “I want you every minute, Ava.” My gaze raked down, not even trying to hide my hunger. “You don’t realize how badly I need to taste
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “Do you glare at all your secretaries like they’ve broken expensive vases?”
Damian's POV We tried to work. Ava recited my schedule in that efficient, practiced voice, but the air between us was thick—dangerous, electric. She stayed pointedly professional, but each time she leaned forward or reached across the desk, her perfume hit me like a memory of skin, sweat, and pleasure. I felt the pull of her body, the ghost of her name on my mouth, every nerve in my body tuned to her proximity. I signed documents and listened to her summarize contract terms—her voice soft and low, her brow furrowed in concentration. When she caught me staring, she arched a brow. “Do you glare at all your secretaries like they’ve broken expensive vases?” “Only the ones I want to bend over my desk,” I murmured, voice pitched to wrap around her ears alone. Her eyes widened, color blooming in her cheeks. She glanced at the door as if expecting someone to burst in. “Damian,” she hissed. “Anyone could— Oh my God.” I tilted my head, savoring the way her pulse stammered in her thro
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