Todos los capítulos de RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

NICKHer mouth hits mine and the pretending is over.She kisses like she argues, hard and with no surrender. Her fists are still twisted in my shirt and she's pulling me down and I'm letting her because my wolf just broke through every wall I've spent five weeks building. There is nothing left between us now except teeth and heat and hunger.She bites my lower lip and the sting brings copper to my tongue and something goes white behind my eyes."Fuck," I breathe against her mouth.I grab her waist and yank her against me. She gasps into the kiss and her breasts press against my chest through her shirt, her hips rolling forward, and my cock is already hard against her stomach. She feels it because her breath catches and she grinds against me and the friction drags a groan out of me I've never heard from my own throat.I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back. Her throat stretches out, long and brown, her pulse hammering where the skin is thinnest. Her lips part. Her eyes fla

EMILYHe slides inside me and my mind goes blank.Every thought I walked in here with, every accusation, every rehearsed line I practiced in the elevator on the way up, all of it falls out of my head the second he fills me. My back presses against the desk and my mouth opens and the sound that comes out of me is something I will never admit to making. Low and deep and pulled from a place behind my ribs I forgot existed.He's big. I knew he was, I felt him in my hand, but feeling him push inside me is different. He stretches me open and my body resists for one breath before it remembers him. Six years and my body remembers him like it's been waiting, like the muscle memory of him never left, and the recognition sends a shiver through me that starts at the base of my spine and rolls all the way up.He holds still. Buried to the hilt. I can feel him everywhere, the thick pulse of him inside me, his hands gripping my hips, his forehead pressed against mine. His breath comes out ragged and

The way she says it. Like she is holding a wound closed with both hands and asking me not to touch it. And I am the one who made the wound. I am the one who stood in that pack house on Christmas morning and used my Alpha command on the woman carrying my child and called her nothing in front of every person she’d ever known. I did that. And she is sitting on my desk asking me not to do it again.“I can’t do this again,” she says. Quieter now. The anger is gone and what’s left is the fear and it’s worse. “I can’t open myself up to you and have it go wrong. It almost killed me the first time. I had nowhere to go, Nick. My father had disowned me. My mother was dead. My pack was gone. I had a baby alone in a hospital room and there was not a single person from my life in the building.” Her voice breaks on the last word. “I put myself back together with my bare hands and I am not going to let you take me apart again because we have chemistry.”“This is more than chemistry.”“It doesn’t matt

"Nothing happened. Why are you here? I told everyone to go home.""Priya's alterations came back wrong. I'm redoing the measurements." He swivels his chair toward me. Studies me. "You're glowing.""It's moisturizer.""That is not moisturizer. I have worked beside you for two years and I have seen every version of your face and this is a face I have never seen." He leans forward. "You're flushed. Your lips are swollen. Your eyes are doing a thing I can't describe but it's making me uncomfortable. And you're wearing a shirt with two buttons missing and holding it closed with your hand."I drop my hand. The shirt gaps. I grab it again."You had sex," he says."Derek.""You had sex and it was good. No. It was exceptional. You've been sleeping with Alex for two years and you have never once walked into this studio looking like that." He pauses. Lets the sentence land. "This wasn't Alex."My face burns. From my chest to my hairline, the heat climbs, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

The cellist plays. The restaurant watches. Alex is on his knee with a ring he picked alone in a store I’ll never see, and I am wearing a safety-pinned blouse with another man’s bite mark under my collar.He takes my hand. Slides the ring on. I let him because my body has stopped taking orders from my brain. It fits. Of course it fits.“Alex.” My voice is splitting. I can hear it. “I can’t.”His smile holds for one more second. One more breath. Then the warmth drains out of it degree by degree, the way colour leaves a sky at dusk, and what’s left is his face without anything protecting it.“What?”“I can’t marry you.” Tears roll down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”He stays on his knee. The room is watching. The cellist has stopped and the silence is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.“You came here to tell me something,” he says slowly. “Before I got on my knee. You tried to stop me.”“Yes.”“What were you going to say?”“That we need to end this.”He closes the box. The click of it fills