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Conflicted decisions
Huling Na-update:
2025-05-08 03:41:09
Kaugnay na kabanata
The Alpha In My Sheets Desperate as hell
Dylan’s POVThe door swings open, and I’m met with the oppressive heat of the room, even worse than before. The air is bloated with the sharp, pungent scent of synthetic pheromones. My stomach lurches, but I force myself to move forward.Tristan had sweat glistening on his olive-toned skin, his black hair plastered to his forehead. His shirt is half undone, the fabric sticking to his chest. His head hangs low, and he’s breathing heavily, almost gasping, his pupils blown wide with an intense need. The paramedics are standing off to the side, one of them on the phone, looking overwhelmed.One of them turns to me, wiping sweat from his brow. “We’ve tried everything. The suppressants aren’t working, and increasing the dose could put him at risk.”My heart clenches, and I hurry to Tristan, kneeling beside him. His hands are tied behind the chair, wrists red and raw from struggling. As I reach out to him, his head lifts slowly, his gaze zeroing in on me like I’m the only thing in the world.
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Reluctant surrender
Dylan’s POVIt feels like the room is collapsing in on itself, engulfed by the bloated scent of heat that Tristan’s body is emitting. He’s barely coherent, his head lolling against my shoulder, his breaths coming out in ragged, shallow gasps. I can feel his pulse racing under my fingertips, his skin feverishly hot.I know he can’t stay here like this. The paramedics have done all they can, and the suppressants aren’t working. I don’t trust anyone else to handle him right now—not when he’s this vulnerable, this raw. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before carefully pulling him up from the chair.“Tristan,” I murmur softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “We need to move you somewhere safer. Can you stand?”He mumbles something, too low for me to catch, but when I pull him to his feet, his legs give out almost immediately. I catch him before he hits the ground, wrapping my arm firmly around his waist. His body slumps against mine, and I can feel every tremor that runs thr
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Boundaries and longing
Dylan’s POV Tristan’s breathing has calmed some, but his skin still feels too hot, his pulse too rapid. I know I need to do something to help him cool down, but his hands are gripping my shirt with a kind of desperate strength, like he’s terrified I’ll slip away if he lets go. “Tristan,” I whisper softly, brushing his hair out of his face. “I need to get something to help you cool down, okay?” His grip tightens, his fingers curling into the fabric. “Don’t… go,” he mumbles, voice hoarse and laced with lingering need. I swallow the knot in my throat, forcing a smile. “I’m not leaving. Just let me get a cloth to help, alright?” His eyes are barely open, but I can feel his body tense as if the idea of me moving even a few feet away is unbearable. I don’t blame him; the synthetic heat drugs are making his instincts go haywire. “I’m not leaving,” I repeat gently, squeezing his hand. After a moment, he lets me pull away just enough to reach the bathroom. I grab a small towel, soaking it
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Unspoken yearning
Dylan’s POV I know I’m in trouble the second Tristan’s mouth brushes against my neck. It’s just a fleeting touch—barely there—but it sets every nerve on fire. My breath hitches, and I force myself to stay still, my fingers tangled in his hair, gently massaging his scalp to keep him calm. He’s too hot—feverish and restless, his body shifting against mine, making me acutely aware of every inch of him pressed up against me. I tell myself to focus, to breathe through it, but it’s fucking impossible when he’s nuzzling into me, his lips grazing my skin again, this time more deliberate. “Tristan,” I murmur, trying to sound steady. “You need to rest.” He doesn’t answer—just sighs against my collarbone, his hands slipping from my shirt to trace along my sides. The touch is slow, almost absentminded, but it’s sending shocks straight through me. I swallow hard, reminding myself that he’s not in his right mind, that the heat is making him like this. But then he does it again—his lips ghost ov
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets The conscious point
Dylan’s POV I’m holding onto my sanity by a thread. Tristan’s body is pressed up against mine, his head still resting on my chest, and I’m trying to keep my breathing steady, my hands moving gently through his hair. His fever hasn’t broken, but his shaking has eased a little, and for a moment, I think he might finally be calming down. Then his hands shift, moving up from my waist to cup my face, his fingers tracing my jawline with a featherlight touch. My heart stutters, and I swallow hard, fighting to keep my reaction under control. He’s looking at me through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide and glistening with something raw and unfiltered. His thumb brushes over my cheek, and I can feel the tremor in his touch, the way he’s barely holding himself together. “Prettyboy…” he whispers, voice shaky and soft. “Make it stop.” I know what he’s asking for—relief, comfort, something to pull him out of this feverish haze. I can feel his desperation like a physical force, wrapping around
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Stories
Dylan’s POV I barely have time to react before Tristan steps closer, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor. The heat coming off his bare skin is suffocating, and my brain stalls, caught between instinct and reason. He’s standing there, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his torso, eyes locked on mine with a wild, feverish intensity. My mouth goes dry. His muscles tense and relax under his flushed skin, and it’s impossible not to notice every line, every defined plane of his body. He takes another step forward, and I instinctively take one back, my back hitting the wall. His lips curl into a half-smile, and there’s something feral about the way he’s looking at me. “We’re just stalling, you know,” he says, voice rough and low. “You’re just trying to delay the inevitable.” My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear him. “Tristan… you’re not thinking straight. You don’t want this.” His eyes narrow, a g
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Memories and temptation
Dylan’s POVI’m trying to keep my mind straight—keep my focus on soothing Tristan and not on how his hands won’t stop wandering. His fingers are tracing the line of my neck, light and teasing, and I can’t ignore how his touch makes my skin tingle. I know he’s still battling the remnants of his heat, but his movements are slower now, more purposeful, as if he’s caught in some trance of his own making.“Hey,” I murmur, trying to ground him. “Tell me more about your mom’s piano songs. What was your favorite?”Tristan’s fingers slide from my neck to my collarbone, his eyes still half-lidded, that feverish glow lingering in his gaze. “She used to play this old waltz… I can’t remember the name. I just know it was sad. Bittersweet. She’d play it when she thought no one was listening.”He moves closer, his lips brushing against my jaw before I can react, and I stiffen, swallowing hard. “Tristan, focus,” I say, voice low. “What did you want to be when you were a kid?”He pauses, his hands slid
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08The Alpha In My Sheets Let me XXX you
Dylan’s POV I’m losing it. Tristan’s hands are moving with more purpose now, slipping under my shirt, fingertips tracing the lines of my ribs. His touch is scorching, leaving trails of fire on my skin. I can’t help the way my breath hitches, the way my body instinctively responds to his touch. I know I should be pulling back, telling him to calm down, but fuck, it’s impossible when he’s looking at me like this—eyes dark, lips parted, and his hands sliding up my sides. He leans in, his mouth finding the hollow of my collarbone, and his lips are hot, pressing open-mouthed kisses that make my head spin. I grip his hips, trying to steady both of us, but he just presses closer, his chest flush against mine, his mouth dragging up to my neck. “Tristan…” I whisper, trying to sound firm, but it comes out like a rasp. He doesn’t answer—just nips at my collarbone, sucking the skin gently before kissing it again, as if apologizing for the bite. I can’t think straight. My hands slide up to h
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-08
Pinakabagong kabanata
The Alpha In My Sheets XXXing you
Dylan’s POV I barely have time to catch my breath before Tristan’s hands are on me again, pulling me closer, his grip firm and unyielding. I don’t even have a chance to process the shift before he pushes me back onto the bed, his body following mine down. The mattress creaks under our combined weight, and I barely manage to brace myself before Tristan is straddling my waist, pinning me down. His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, and wild—like he’s barely holding himself together. My pulse races, heart thundering in my chest, and I can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. His hands are on either side of my head, caging me in, and he leans down, our noses brushing, his breath hot and uneven against my lips. I can’t think straight. Everything’s spinning out of control, and I know I should push him back—should remind him that he’s still feverish and not in his right mind. But fuck, the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing anchoring him to reality—it’s got me trapped. “Tristan
The Alpha In My Sheets Finding stability
Dylan’s POV My body buzzing from the way his hands had moved over me, the way his lips had claimed mine like he was staking his territory. Tristan’s hands are still trembling, but now they’re softer, almost hesitant as he pushes me back gently onto the bed. He straddles me, his fingers tracing my collarbone and drifting down to my chest, his eyes still dark with desire but tempered now with something softer—something almost tender. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and I can feel his pulse racing under my hands as I rest them on his hips. There’s something unspoken hanging in the air, and I know he’s fighting to keep himself composed. “Are you okay?” I ask quietly, brushing his hair back from his face. He nods, but his hands are still shaking, his breath uneven. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s trying to ground himself. I reach up, cupping his face, and he leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Talk to me,” I murmur, my thumb strokin
The Alpha In My Sheets Let me XXX you
Dylan’s POV I’m losing it. Tristan’s hands are moving with more purpose now, slipping under my shirt, fingertips tracing the lines of my ribs. His touch is scorching, leaving trails of fire on my skin. I can’t help the way my breath hitches, the way my body instinctively responds to his touch. I know I should be pulling back, telling him to calm down, but fuck, it’s impossible when he’s looking at me like this—eyes dark, lips parted, and his hands sliding up my sides. He leans in, his mouth finding the hollow of my collarbone, and his lips are hot, pressing open-mouthed kisses that make my head spin. I grip his hips, trying to steady both of us, but he just presses closer, his chest flush against mine, his mouth dragging up to my neck. “Tristan…” I whisper, trying to sound firm, but it comes out like a rasp. He doesn’t answer—just nips at my collarbone, sucking the skin gently before kissing it again, as if apologizing for the bite. I can’t think straight. My hands slide up to h
The Alpha In My Sheets Memories and temptation
Dylan’s POVI’m trying to keep my mind straight—keep my focus on soothing Tristan and not on how his hands won’t stop wandering. His fingers are tracing the line of my neck, light and teasing, and I can’t ignore how his touch makes my skin tingle. I know he’s still battling the remnants of his heat, but his movements are slower now, more purposeful, as if he’s caught in some trance of his own making.“Hey,” I murmur, trying to ground him. “Tell me more about your mom’s piano songs. What was your favorite?”Tristan’s fingers slide from my neck to my collarbone, his eyes still half-lidded, that feverish glow lingering in his gaze. “She used to play this old waltz… I can’t remember the name. I just know it was sad. Bittersweet. She’d play it when she thought no one was listening.”He moves closer, his lips brushing against my jaw before I can react, and I stiffen, swallowing hard. “Tristan, focus,” I say, voice low. “What did you want to be when you were a kid?”He pauses, his hands slid
The Alpha In My Sheets Stories
Dylan’s POV I barely have time to react before Tristan steps closer, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor. The heat coming off his bare skin is suffocating, and my brain stalls, caught between instinct and reason. He’s standing there, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his torso, eyes locked on mine with a wild, feverish intensity. My mouth goes dry. His muscles tense and relax under his flushed skin, and it’s impossible not to notice every line, every defined plane of his body. He takes another step forward, and I instinctively take one back, my back hitting the wall. His lips curl into a half-smile, and there’s something feral about the way he’s looking at me. “We’re just stalling, you know,” he says, voice rough and low. “You’re just trying to delay the inevitable.” My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear him. “Tristan… you’re not thinking straight. You don’t want this.” His eyes narrow, a g
The Alpha In My Sheets The conscious point
Dylan’s POV I’m holding onto my sanity by a thread. Tristan’s body is pressed up against mine, his head still resting on my chest, and I’m trying to keep my breathing steady, my hands moving gently through his hair. His fever hasn’t broken, but his shaking has eased a little, and for a moment, I think he might finally be calming down. Then his hands shift, moving up from my waist to cup my face, his fingers tracing my jawline with a featherlight touch. My heart stutters, and I swallow hard, fighting to keep my reaction under control. He’s looking at me through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide and glistening with something raw and unfiltered. His thumb brushes over my cheek, and I can feel the tremor in his touch, the way he’s barely holding himself together. “Prettyboy…” he whispers, voice shaky and soft. “Make it stop.” I know what he’s asking for—relief, comfort, something to pull him out of this feverish haze. I can feel his desperation like a physical force, wrapping around
The Alpha In My Sheets Unspoken yearning
Dylan’s POV I know I’m in trouble the second Tristan’s mouth brushes against my neck. It’s just a fleeting touch—barely there—but it sets every nerve on fire. My breath hitches, and I force myself to stay still, my fingers tangled in his hair, gently massaging his scalp to keep him calm. He’s too hot—feverish and restless, his body shifting against mine, making me acutely aware of every inch of him pressed up against me. I tell myself to focus, to breathe through it, but it’s fucking impossible when he’s nuzzling into me, his lips grazing my skin again, this time more deliberate. “Tristan,” I murmur, trying to sound steady. “You need to rest.” He doesn’t answer—just sighs against my collarbone, his hands slipping from my shirt to trace along my sides. The touch is slow, almost absentminded, but it’s sending shocks straight through me. I swallow hard, reminding myself that he’s not in his right mind, that the heat is making him like this. But then he does it again—his lips ghost ov
The Alpha In My Sheets Boundaries and longing
Dylan’s POV Tristan’s breathing has calmed some, but his skin still feels too hot, his pulse too rapid. I know I need to do something to help him cool down, but his hands are gripping my shirt with a kind of desperate strength, like he’s terrified I’ll slip away if he lets go. “Tristan,” I whisper softly, brushing his hair out of his face. “I need to get something to help you cool down, okay?” His grip tightens, his fingers curling into the fabric. “Don’t… go,” he mumbles, voice hoarse and laced with lingering need. I swallow the knot in my throat, forcing a smile. “I’m not leaving. Just let me get a cloth to help, alright?” His eyes are barely open, but I can feel his body tense as if the idea of me moving even a few feet away is unbearable. I don’t blame him; the synthetic heat drugs are making his instincts go haywire. “I’m not leaving,” I repeat gently, squeezing his hand. After a moment, he lets me pull away just enough to reach the bathroom. I grab a small towel, soaking it
The Alpha In My Sheets Reluctant surrender
Dylan’s POVIt feels like the room is collapsing in on itself, engulfed by the bloated scent of heat that Tristan’s body is emitting. He’s barely coherent, his head lolling against my shoulder, his breaths coming out in ragged, shallow gasps. I can feel his pulse racing under my fingertips, his skin feverishly hot.I know he can’t stay here like this. The paramedics have done all they can, and the suppressants aren’t working. I don’t trust anyone else to handle him right now—not when he’s this vulnerable, this raw. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before carefully pulling him up from the chair.“Tristan,” I murmur softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “We need to move you somewhere safer. Can you stand?”He mumbles something, too low for me to catch, but when I pull him to his feet, his legs give out almost immediately. I catch him before he hits the ground, wrapping my arm firmly around his waist. His body slumps against mine, and I can feel every tremor that runs thr
