Marked by the Alpha
Hector’s lips were full, created for kissing, and as he took control of it his hands trailed up my back to my head, which he cradled gently.
I gasped as a sensation charged through me—something powerful, and urgent, and almost painful—but I recognized it all the same.
The Harvest Moon. I was in heat, and even though we hadn’t used protection in all of our other times, the chances of me getting pregnant if we had sex tonight were almost doubled.
I should’ve known better, but quite frankly, I didn’t.
In fact, I wouldn’t have even been able to tell you my own name at that moment as our kiss deepened because I knew one thing only: I NEEDED Hector. Quite literally. Anywhere. Right now.