CHAPTER 5: CAUGHT IN AN ACT

CELINE

I rushed downstairs with my bag clutched against my side, eyes glued to my phone as I tried to power it back on.

My mind was still clouded, thick with everything that had happened in that room. Everything Alpha Zithan had done to me with his hands and his mouth and that devastating patience of his. The memory kept surfacing in warm vivid flashes that I was doing a terrible job of suppressing.

A knowing smile pulled at my lips before I could stop it.

I finally knew what it felt like. To be wanted, to be desired. To be handled like something precious and then taken apart so thoroughly that the only coherent sound you could produce was his name.

Muize had always made it look like sex was something rough and careless and over quickly. Alpha Zithan had dismantled that belief completely in one single night.

Goddess. I was wet again just thinking about it.

I shook my head and focused on the stairs. My Father first, then everything else after. I was almost at the bottom when I walked directly into a wall.

Except walls didn't catch you. Two hands closed around my arms before I could stumble backward, steadying me with easy strength, and I looked up from my phone screen —

"Watch where you're going, little mate."

That voice. It was low and warm and absolutely saturated with amusement, like he had been waiting at the bottom of these stairs specifically for me to crash into him and had enjoyed every single second of it.

I looked up slowly, then I saw another Zithan but this time, I knew they were different, they are triplets.

His bright green eyes alive with mischief, looking down at me with that slow unrepentant smile that I was rapidly learning meant absolutely nothing good was about to happen — nothing good for my self-control anyway.

His dark hair fell forward slightly and up this close I caught his scent properly for the first time, and he was different from Zithan's. His gaze dropped from my face, taking a long leisurely journey down my body and back up, landing on my bag with a flicker of sharp interest.

"Trying to run away, little mate?" His voice was casual and conversational.

But something underneath it was quiet and watchful that pinned me in place more effectively than any raised voice could.

"I'm not running," my voice was shaky and I hated it. "I have someone to meet. My father."

"Your father," he repeated slowly, like he was tasting the word and finding it suspicious.

"So if you'll just—"

"Your voice," he said simply, cutting me off.

I blinked. "What?" My brows furrowed in confusion.

That smile deepened. "Your voice turns me on, little mate."

The words landed directly in my lower stomach and radiated outward like heat. I pressed my lips together firmly.

He took one step toward me. I took one step back until my shoulders met the wall. It’s solid and cool against my back, and he kept coming until he was close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to hold his gaze. Both hands pressed flat against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in without touching me.

I told myself I was going to push past him. Duck under his arm. Walk out the front door like a responsible person with a destination.

My body had spectacularly different opinions.

Because standing this close to him I could feel the heat rolling off him and the mate bond pulling. Those green eyes weren't one flat colour, they were layered, shifting, like light moving through leaves. And that scent of his was doing something deeply unfair to my ability to think straight.

"How about," he said, his voice dropping closer to my ear, "I fuck you hard against these stairs and make you mine?"

The air left my lungs completely, and I pursed my lips and breathed slowly through my nose.

I was a grown woman with a destination and a purpose and I was absolutely not going to react to that. "Move," I said. My voice came out approximately two shades huskier than intended.

He heard it. Of course he fucking heard it. That smile told me everything.

"Your body disagrees, little mate" he said smirk.

He leaned in, not touching me, just closer, and pressed his lips to the side of my neck in the softest most deliberate kiss imaginable. Just his mouth resting warm against my skin for one suspended second.

My eyes fell shut on their own. ‘Traitor,’ I told my own nervous system. ‘Absolute traitor.’

"I've wondered," he murmured against my throat, his breath moving warm over my skin with every word, "what my little mate would feel like." His lips traced a slow line toward my collarbone. "How she would sound." Another kiss lower. "How she would taste."

His hands slid from the wall, one curling around my waist, one sliding underneath the hem of my shirt and I knew I should stop him.

Instead mate bond and heat kept pulling us closer, and I tipped my head back and gave him better access.

"When I thrust into you," he said against my skin, voice dropping to a rough murmur that vibrated straight through me, "will your pussy grab my cock like a vice?"

“Fuck me—“ A sound escaped me that I would be taking to my absolute grave.

His hand found my breast beneath my shirt, no preamble, no hesitation as he cupped it firmly, his thumb dragging slowly across my nipple.

I bit down hard on my lip.

He pinched it sharp and precise and the moan that escaped me rang through the entire stairwell before I could catch it.

I clapped both hands over my mouth immediately, because Zithan was sleeping upstairs.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, those green eyes bright and dancing with pure wicked enjoyment at my flushed face and covered mouth — and the sight of me clearly delighted him beyond all measure.

"So," he said, like we were having a perfectly normal conversation, "how do you want Alpha Rythan to fuck you, little mate?"

Alpha Rythan? That was his name? First it was Zithan, then now it was Rythan. Damn! Their parents sure ate with those names

"Harder," I whispered. It flew out before my brain caught up entirely. My own eyes went wide.

Rythan's grin spread slowly and devastating across his face. Like sunrise over something dangerous.

"Yes, ma'am," he breathed.

He turned me smoothly, one firm hand on my hip spinning me to face the wall, and I brought both hands up flat against the wood panelling to brace myself. His body pressed warm and solid behind me. His mouth dropped to the back of my neck and traced heat down my spine while his hands found my waistband and pulled my shorts down in one smooth motion.

The cool air hit my thighs and I shivered.

His fingers hooked into the side of my panties, shifted them over without removing them, and his hand slid between my thighs from behind.

"Little mate," he said, voice gone rough, "you are completely soaking."

The sound he made when he found how wet I was ought to have embarrassed me. It absolutely did not.

“Please, fuck me.” I almost begged, as I pressed my thigh to stop my throbbing pussy.

His finger found my clit and began working slow deliberate circles and my forehead dropped forward against the wall. His finger rubbed with infuriating patience, tracing and teasing, while his mouth stayed busy at my neck and his free hand kept that warm proprietary grip on my breast.

Where Zithan had taken me apart with tenderness, Rythan was doing it differently. Methodically dismantling every defence I had with his hands and his voice and that relentless shameless confidence. Two completely different weapons. The same devastating result.

"Never knew my little mate was such a greedy girl," he murmured, pushing one finger inside me.

My mouth fell open silently, my fingers scraped the wall.

"Fuck me hard, Rythan," I moaned, pushing my hips back to meet him.

"Shit— the way you say my name—" He added a second finger and drove them deeper, faster, like he was trying to dig for gold and had found the exact right spot.

Ohh sweet Goddess…when did I suddenly become a sex freak. Under the same day, I fuck two grown men.

"Yeah— right there— my Rythan—"

It accidentally slipped out and I felt him react instantly behind me. His grip tightening, fingers driving harder, as if those two letters had broken the last thread of his restraint completely.

"You want to be my little slut?" His lips grazed my ear. "I want to hear you say it."

The sensation climbing through my body was unbearable. My legs were shaking. My fingers scratched uselessly at the wall.

"Yes—" I gasped. "Yes— Daddy—"

The word detonated out of my mouth and I heard myself say it and had half a second to be completely stunned at myself before Rythan made a sound behind me that was barely human, low and raw and utterly wrecked and his fingers drove into me so deep and so fast that the orgasm hit me like a wall collapsing.

I cried out, loud, embarrassingly, unapologetically loud.

It crashed through me in relentless waves — whole body shaking, thighs clamping around his hand, Rythan's arm wrapping around my waist from behind to hold me upright because my legs had resigned effectively immediately.

"That's it," he said against my hair, rough and breathless. "That's my girl. Cum for daddy.”

I sagged completely against him when it finally released me. Boneless, Wrecked, Incapable of forming a single sentence.

For a moment neither of us moved. His breathing was uneven against my neck. The stairwell was very quiet, except the sound of our breath was heard.

"What is happening here?"

The voice hit me like ice water straight to the spine, and we both went completely still. Then slowly we turned.

A man stood at the bottom of the stairs. Older, silver threading through his dark hair, wearing a look of pure frozen shock that I recognised with gut-dropping certainty because I had seen that face before. In old photographs. In faded memories. In the mirror in certain lights.

The world stopped rotating. "Father?" The word came out as barely a whisper.

I shoved Rythan's hand away, yanked my shorts back up with violently shaking fingers, and stood there staring at my father, who was staring at me.

Who had just seen a man's fingers inside me approximately thirty seconds ago on his staircase

The floor could open and swallow me whole any time it was ready. Any time at all, because I’m doomed.