2: Stranger in my ass

Alpha Bambam

“What’s a pretty damsel like you doing out here alone at this unholy hour?” I asked, my eyes scanning the little beauty before me.

She looked so fragile, and I didn’t know if it was the dim light cast on me or the fact that I was already close to being drunk.

“I figured I’m standing in your way. Maybe I should…”

“Shh…” I stopped her before she could finish.

“How about I lead you in myself? You look so worn out already.”

“That would be nice,” she replied without a second’s delay.

I gasped inwardly and led her in, blocking the mind link when Lucas tried to stop me. He was already waiting by the car.

I didn’t care that I was half drunk when I ordered another bottle of champagne. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to drink away the sorrow coating my heart. Not that I had ever drunk this much before.

But desperate times called for desperate measures. The little damsel before me didn’t say no, nor resist when I touched her lips, sipping the liquid that trailed from the corner of her mouth.

She smiled, and that was divine. The perfect distraction I needed. I laughed at what she said. She seemed quite used to drinking, because by the time I realized it, she had consumed two bottles, demanding more and chuckling at every damn thing I said.

If I wasn’t mistaken, she should be around the age of my son, who was currently in school not far from here, the same reason I had traveled this far myself.

I figured telling him about his mother’s demise through the mind link, by phone, or by sending someone else would break him more than necessary.

Lucas had suggested I invite him to the Black Moon Pack, but I refused. When I visited his apartment and met his absence a few hours ago, I decided to stop by this bar to clear my head.

How would he even survive the heartbreak? He had loved her so much and had even promised, on his last visit, to bring home his girlfriend to meet her.

I usually envied their bond. But now…

“Wait. You don’t mean it?” the damsel said suddenly, laughing in disbelief.

“I’m telling you,” I murmured, managing a faint smile.

For the first time that day, the heaviness in my chest eased. Her laughter was like air to a drowning man.

Something about her presence pulled me in, an invisible thread urging me to stay, to protect her, to hold her.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the ghost of a memory she awakened. Someone I’d once lost, someone dear to my heart.

Then she stopped laughing and looked at me, her lips curved over the rim of her glass. Those hazel eyes, piercing, haunting, made my heart ache.

They were the same. A replica. Could Annabella have decided to return to me in the form of this pretty damsel?

What the heck was happening to my head?

“You know,” she said, setting her glass down, “I must say I’m delighted I met you.” She leaned closer, stopping just short of touching me, but close enough to make my chest burn.

“I never knew I’d laugh this hard again or feel so alive, and it’s all thanks to you,” she murmured.

Gosh. Why didn’t she just close the gap? Why did I feel that quickened heartbeat, that long-dead sensation that had vanished years ago when I got the news of Annabella’s escape?

She left without a word, and I was forced to choose a mate years after searching for her with no clue whatsoever. I was miserable, drowning in grief, but somehow I moved on after a few years of marriage to my son’s mother.

And now… that same feeling?

I didn’t know when I gripped her waist and pulled her closer. To my relief, she didn’t resist. She smiled faintly, teasingly trailing out her tongue.

Gosh. My brain cells stood still, and for a moment I forgot we were in public, until she finally spoke.

“How about you show me the stuff you’re made of?”

I couldn’t hold back the tremor that ran through me at her words, and my treacherous cock reacted instantly. Even my wolf, Rumus, was silent, as if savoring the fact that this little damsel had stirred feelings we hadn’t felt in years.

I didn’t waste time booking a room in the bar, and shortly after, I found myself curled around her in my arms.

Her kisses were rough, claiming me whole, like she had wanted this moment for so long.

I deepened the kiss, feeling the need pressing on me more than ever. My hands trailed along her thighs and straight to her net panties.

She moaned breathlessly, sliding her arms around the back of my head, my neck, my back, everywhere. Inviting. Hot. Feral.

My senses slipped into a wild, overwhelming haze as I dragged down her panties, claiming her ferociously and raw.

She came for me, over and over again. And the sound, and the feel, of her moans in my ears were the beginning of the rhythm I had craved so deeply. A rhythm I never wanted to end.

After a breathless, intimate moment together, we both gasped aloud, and I felt alive again. Truly alive. Even Rumus wagged his tail, eager to come out.

I turned when I heard the rustle of fabric. There she was, slipping into her mini dress as if she hadn’t been the one desperate to stay moments ago.

“Where to?” I asked, watching as she ignored me, focused instead on pulling her gown over her shoulders in one swift motion.

“Home, of course,” she said, and I didn’t like how my chest rumbled as a low groan escaped my lips.

She flinched for a heartbeat, then quickly slipped into her heels and stormed toward the door.

“I’m sorry I made you do this. But we never had anything. I never met you, you don’t know who I am, and I don’t know who you are. Let’s just say it was a mistake, and we’re dead to each other,” she blurted, not meeting my gaze, her head bowed as she stormed out of the room.

Like hell she didn’t just say that. Calling this a mistake? Saying we were dead to each other?

Who was this damsel who made me feel alive after so many years and still had the boldness to walk away without a trace of hesitation?

I wanted to stop her, to call Lucas to hold her at the gate. That would’ve been a small task to accomplish. But I didn’t.

She was mine. With or without her consent.