ROSE My hand slammed across my mouth to stop a high moan and then reality rammed into me. What the fuck am I doing! Why am I letting him do this to me? Why is that damn goddess still manipulating me! I pushed Keithen back—but it was like pushing the wall. I bounced back and knocked myself against the counter. ‘Goddess blast—just tell me to let go! Are you alright?’ Those same passionate eyes now looked extremely worried, watching me rub my bruised butt. ‘I told you to stop!’ I hissed, tears in my voice—and it wasn’t because of the bruise I’m about to get. The Alpha froze—-in the middle of wanting to pull me into his arms. ‘D-Don’t look at me like that.’ I slid aside, flattening my butt against the vanity counter, my eyes keeping tabs on him, in case he made a move. But he remained unmoved. Watching and waiting… waiting for my return. More importantly, he was waiting for me to do the next thing so he’d take it from there. His eyes were saying: I’ll do whatever you want, R

ROSE‘Where’ve you been?’ Richard stopped me. Hands on my shoulders, he bent slightly to squint at me . ‘And why’s your face so red?’ ‘I hate Rum.’ The whisper slipped out before I could stop it. And I watch a huge grin of a face levelled with mine. ‘Now you’re talking!’ He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tightly. ‘I know you’ll come through! You like me more, do you? I knew it!’ How the hell did he come to that conclusion? Ah, whatever. I nudged at him and he released me. ‘Where are you going?’ I asked, still feeling like a grape and a charcoal at the same time. ‘To watch someone get slapped,’ he whispered, not hiding his eager tone, as his finger laced through mine. ‘Let’s go!’ ‘Who?’ I muttered, not in the mood for anything except slapping that stupid, womanising Alpha. There’s no other reason why he was with Sherry. And the van had rocked a little. I swear. ‘Apparently, it’s three slaps. Can’t wait to see a swollen, red face.’ ‘SILENCE ON SET!’ Instantly, the v

ROSE His kisses were long, gentle and strong, like he wanted the moment to last. As soon as one ended, the next one started. He couldn’t stop. He held my face perfectly to keep going—and it was my hands slipping under his shirt, sliding up and down his back, feeling all the warm flesh and grooves like I was reading Braille. We were leading each other on differently but with the same passion. And then I was placed on something hard, my chest brushing his, which annoyed me—I want to rub my breasts against his hard chest. I want to make my nipples hard with his warmth and cover myself with him, graze my skin against his, to feel his heat, its comfort, to wrap them around me and hug it close. To make it mine. I nudged him to stop and his lips tore away with a loud reluctant smack, and he stared at me as my fingers hastily unbuttoned my blouse. His were already undone. When, I can’t be sure. Did he do it, or was it me, I can’t remember. All I could think of now was to get naked and