Semua Bab The Alpha King's Breeder: Bab 781 - Bab 790

LexaKaleb lets go of my wrists, but I’m boneless as he draws a line down the column of my throat with his tongue. He’s kneeling on the bed with my legs splayed over his thighs. His massive, warm hands smooth up my legs, bunching the fabric of my gown until it’s pooled around my waist. Every movement is slow, controlled, like he’s questioning how far he’s willing to take this or savoring the moment. I’ve done this before. Had sex. It was a fumbling, slightly drunken compilation of events. Exciting and heated–but there hadn’t been… this. This slow, exploratory worship. No sucking kisses in a line down to my navel. Nothing that made my muscles weak and my toes curl like everything Kaleb is doing, like he already knows exactly how to touch me, like he’s already mapped every inch of my body. I gasp a shallow breath, my eyes hooded and heavy, when his fingers brush over my pussy–the lightest touch over my panties. I’d beg at this point. I’d get on my knees and say whatever he wants, do w

LexaI keep my hand tucked in the crook of Kaleb’s arm as he guides us through the crowd, ignoring the glances, the underhanded comments in a language I don’t understand but know he does. Most people give us a wide berth. Many of the women hide their mouths with fans, their jewels sparking in the light of dozens of crystal chandeliers. I can’t help but notice the copious amount of food going to waste on long, opulently decorated tables, not so much as a bite taken from several dishes. My stomach curls at the thought of the kids who race into the pack house every morning to collect their family’s daily rations of grains, milk, and meat. It’s never enough. The people of the Glade have never had enough. I nearly trip over my own feet when Kaleb comes to a rough stop, like he didn’t expect it, and turns to a tall fae man–a trio of them, actually–the only seemingly friendly faces in the ballroom so far. “Alpha King,” says one of them–a man who looks to be in his late forties. At least,

KalebI’m fucked. My chest aches as I put distance between me and Lexa, walking steadily through Pantharas toward the castle, resisting the urge to shift. Shift, for what would be the first time in years. My body sizzles with fragments of desire left untouched. This is a damning night, to say the absolute least. My hair is slightly damp with sweat, tucked in soft curls around my fingers as I run my hand through it, trying to force my mind back to reality, but it’s currently trapped between my mates legs. It’s the mate bond. There’s no other explanation for this need to claim and consume her, bending her to my will, and she wants me to. Lexa, who has never knelt for any man, any king, knelt for me. Lexa, who could kill a man with her bare hands, begged me to fuck her, to take her as mine, and I regret not doing it then and there, leaving my mark on her skin with my cock buried deep, unburdened, not thinking of the future we won’t have and the risk of a child–a beast like me–taking he

Lexa“Now what?”Kaleb moves in, reaching for me. I close my eyes as his fingertips graze my cheekbone, and I don’t fight it when my body instinctively leans into his touch. It’s short lived. His thumb grazes my cheek like he’s counting the freckles before he pulls away, and then I’m alone, in a kitchen so dated yet opulent, hungry and confused. I find a little box of cookies, and that’s going to have to be enough unless Silas returned here with his entire staff, but… I think we’re the only two beings in the house as it stands. I should probably gather the gown in that stairwell, but I have no idea where the stairwell is… but I’m sure, based on the raised voices I heard moments ago, that Silas is already well aware of the situation now. He finds me after twenty minutes. I’m still in the kitchen with my knees tucked to my chest perched on a bench beneath a wide window letting in light from his back garden. He glances at the empty box of cookies before moving toward the stove, which

LexaKaleb’s hand rests on my lower back as the guards move from the gate to the Glade. The small door cut within the metal of the ancient gate that towers so high I have to crane my neck to look up at the top of the wall gives way, and instead of constant shuffle, thunder of hammers and whining of saws, the Glade is… silent. I’m used to people looking at me now–stopping what they’re doing to turn in my direction, to follow me with their eyes. I’m not prepared for the bows. The bobbing of heads. The quiet, suffocating awe. Kaleb’s fingers curl into a fist at the base of my spine, but I move with him like this is just another day, another day we’ll spend in the sparring ring together when things were easy between us. When none of this had happened yet. People gather in doorways or peek through open windows. Children stop their games to watch us pass. I look everyone in the eyes, questioning the curious glances–the uncertainty. But they keep bowing. To Kaleb, of course. Tension ris