Chapter 5 Call Off the Surrogacy Plan

The command was blunt. He had already begun unbuttoning his shirt, movements efficient and detached. My eyes took in the solid planes of his chest, the thick muscle of his arms, the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath his waistband. Heat prickled low in my stomach despite the cold knot of anxiety. I hated that my body noticed him at all.

This was it.

My hands trembled as I reached for the zipper. I fumbled twice before the dress slid off my shoulders and pooled at my feet. I stood in nothing but underwear, arms crossed over my chest, nipples tightening against the thin lace from the cool air—and from the way his presence filled the room.

He still didn’t look at me. His gaze stayed fixed somewhere above my head even as he shoved his trousers down. The hard length of him sprang free, thick and already half-swollen. My mouth went dry.

“On the bed.”

I climbed onto the mattress, body stiff. He followed, the bed dipping under his weight as he positioned himself above me. Heat radiated off his skin. The scent of him wrapped around me.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He reached for my thighs. Large hands gripped my skin firmly, spreading my legs apart with deliberate force. His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of my inner thighs, stroking once, twice, before sliding higher. The rough pads of his fingers brushed the edge of my underwear. A jolt shot straight through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sheets while my pulse hammered between my legs.

He hooked his fingers under the lace and dragged it down. Cool air kissed my bare skin. Then the blunt, hot pressure of him settled against my entrance.

My body betrayed me—a shudder ran through me, hips jerking back. A small, broken sound escaped my throat. I was terrified. 

He froze.

“What is this?” His voice was sharp. Accusatory.

I opened my eyes. He was staring down at me, expression dark. His cock rested heavy against my folds, not pushing in yet, but the heat of it burned.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just—”

“You’re acting like I’m forcing you.” His jaw tightened. One hand stayed locked on my thigh. “You signed the contract. You agreed to this.”

“I know—”

“Then stop looking at me like I’m the monster here.”

I flinched. He shifted his hips deliberately, dragging the thick head of his cock through my wetness in a slow stroke that made my breath hitch. The friction was meant to prove a point, not to please. Still, my body clenched around nothing.

“You think I want this?” His voice dropped lower. “You think this is some kind of pleasure for me?” He rocked forward again, the head of him pressing just inside, stretching me the barest amount before he pulled back. “You wanted the money. You signed the papers. Don’t pretend you’re some victim being dragged to the altar.”

His words hit like a slap. The slow drag of his cock continued—up, down—coating himself in the wetness I couldn’t stop producing. Tension coiled tight in my belly.

Tears stung my eyes. I refused to let them fall.

“You’re right,” I said, voice steady despite the way my thighs trembled. “I signed the contract. So let’s get this over with.”

A knowing look crossed his face, as if he knew me like the back of his hand. Then he settled the broad head of him more firmly against me.

I inched closer, grabbing his neck for balance. His body heat seared mine. I could feel the heavy pulse of his cock against my entrance.

He started to push forward. The stretch burned. I rolled hard off the bed before he could seat himself fully.

“I can’t do this,” I gasped, scrambling upright. “I just can’t.”

Alpha Dominic ran a hand through his hair, already hard and glistening from me. His blank expression slowly gave way to anger. He was still fully erect, the thick length of him bobbing with each breath.

I felt absolutely nothing toward him emotionally, yet I stood naked in front of him, thighs slick, body still humming from the near-penetration.

He let out a deep sigh, eyes flicking down my body once before returning to my face.

“I’ll pay you three times what you’re receiving,” he said. “Three times the original sum. Paid the moment this is done.”

So that was what I was now—a female who could be bought.

“Three times?”

“Yes.”

This meant I could clear my mother’s hospital bills faster.

I bit the corner of my lip. “And you’ll keep to your promise?”

“I’m a male of my word.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “I think I’m ready.”

He moved closer. My back hit the wall. One large hand settled around my waist, fingers splaying low over the curve of my hip, thumb brushing the sensitive skin just above my mound. Everything about him still felt repulsive—yet the heat of his palm sank into me. That scared me.

His eyes locked with mine. For a split second the color shifted—something darker, animal—before snapping back to normal. Like he had just clawed his way out of a trance.

His jaw clenched. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

His hands returned to my waist, sliding lower. Two thick fingers parting my folds and pressing inside without warning. The stretch burned in the worst way. A broken sound escaped me as he curled those fingers once, testing, then withdrew them.

He guided the head of his cock back to my entrance. He pushed in this time, just the tip, forcing me to take the thickest part of him. My walls fluttered around the intrusion. My hands pushed weakly against his chest.

He stopped again suddenly.

This time he didn’t simply pull away. One hand locked around my throat, fingers firm, eyes never leaving mine. The other stayed low, keeping himself pressed against me, the head of him still lodged just inside.

“Wh… what's wrong?” I tried to speak. His grip tightened.

I stepped on his foot. He didn’t budge.

“Tell me,” he said, voice rough.

I stared up at him, struggling for air, still stretched around the blunt pressure of him.

My hands shoved harder at his chest.

His eyes had gone even darker. The tips of his fingers against my throat shifted—sharpening into the first hint of claws. The edges pricked my skin, not quite breaking it, but close enough that I felt the threat in every shallow breath.

He finally released my throat and shoved me back a step. I choked on air, thighs still trembling.

“I’ll only ask this once, Xena,” he stated, voice low and lethal. “And if you dare lie to me, I’ll cut your throat and feed it to the wolves.”

My fingers trembled as I straightened and faced him.

“What’s your relationship with Freya?”

Shit. He knows. Will he call off the surrogacy plan?