Chapter 11
Alpha
Hisnewwifewas infuriating.
Since that morning at the wedding, where she’d goaded him into a reaction, she’d been wearing a self-satisfied look on her face, and it was partially amusing, partially fascinating, and mostly annoying.
He’d stayed away from her that night, staying in another one of the rooms in Dante’s mansion after bringing Tristan, Dante, and their partners up-to-date on everything from his end. Tristan’s partner Moarana in particular was a curious case. She had pretty much dug up his life and recited it without compunction, and he got the sense that she was wary of him. Not that he’d blame her. Tristan wasn’t particularly fond of him either. But Dante and Amara seemed to be the mutual point of interest, and he was okay with that. He was there for his brother anyway, who seemed to be a pretty cool man, and he was wicked good with knives which Alpha respected.
A part of him wondered if he’d ever get to meet his other half-brother Damien. But if he’d not made an appearance at Dante’s wedding, Alpha doubted it. Good for him though, making a life for himself away from everything. Although Alpha hadn’t known Dante for long, seeing Amara and Tempest at the ceremony, he was happy for the fucker. It was a rarity to find any semblance of love and keep it in their world, and the fact that he’d done that for almost a decade was truly admirable.
He and his new wife had left soon after the ceremony, mostly because he’d been eager to be back on his own turf and share the note with Hector. He had a suspicion about who’d left the note with Zephyr, which was chilling in itself, but he wanted to discuss it with his friend. While Alpha couldn’t read and do shit, Hector was a whiz with paperwork. He read, kept all the documents in place, and kept them out of trouble. The younger man had a fantastic eye for details, and a loyalty to Alpha and his empire like nobody would’ve expected. If it truly was a pack, Hector was his Beta.
Victor was excellent too, but he had hair-trigger and anger issues he needed to work on, possibly learn the ropes for a few more years before he could and help his brother in running the company. But he was good with security, and since he already had a rapport with his little wife, he was on bodyguard duty for her.
“I didn’t know you lived in the jungle,” the infuriating little firecracker said from his side in the Jeep as they drove out of the city limits. Victor drove quietly, and Alpha just stayed silent. He’d just picked her up from her apartment with all her endless boxes and suitcases. What such a tiny woman needed all that stuff for god only knew.
The only person who seemed as happy about their union as his wife seemed to be her sister. The two had stood on the doorstep, hugging and crying for a solid time before they had left. And it made him wonder, given how close the two sisters were if Zenith knew the real reason for this entire venture.
“Do you wear a leafy skirt and swing from the vines too?” Zephyr quipped from the side, and he finally turned to give her a look that scared most people. She just smiled up at him, and he swore he wanted to turn her upside and smack her delectable ass.
Fucking infuriating.
Victor choked on his laugh at the front, and Alpha grit his teeth. He liked Victor, but he didn’t like that the good-looking boy had already established such an easy camaraderie with his wife when he usually hated people. He didn't like that she had that light effect on Victor too. But he pretended to ignore it all. That was the best way. Just like he’d been ignoring her teasing little touches, the breathy little sounds she made when she called him for the most random reasons, the way her eyes checked him out and lingered deliberately on the hard parts of his body. He didn’t think about how full her lips looked when she spoke, or how her citrusy scent teased his nose sometimes when she stepped into his personal space, or how he could see down her cleavage from his height and it made him think of what his dick would look like nestled between her tits.
A month since she knocked him on his ass at the fight with that kiss, and he still remembered her taste, was tempted to taste her again at least twice a day. Minimum.
But it was the best for her that he didn’t both physically and emotionally. She was small, and he could hurt her seriously if he lost control. After his last sexual encounter, it was best he didn’t tempt fate. And the fact that she’d told him she got attached to her lovers just made him keep his distance more. When this time was up and the marriage ended—and it would end because he would find out her reasons and his curiosity would be satisfied—they’d simply move on without any attachments. He’d give her another room, enjoy her company because she did make him feel lighter, and probably have her bake him some more alfajores because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had them. Yes, that was the perfect plan.
The view outside changed as the city was left behind, the solid road becoming rougher, the foliage thickening as it closed in slowly.
A small hand gripped his thigh as the Jeep jerked over a boulder, and he looked down at it, her ring glinting in the daylight. He wondered how it’d look with her hand wrapped around him. He doubted her fingers would even touch.
She gave a nervous laugh, breaking his thoughts. “You guys aren’t taking me to the jungle to drop me in the middle of nowhere with all my stuff, right? I wouldn’t survive a day in the wild. The extent of my survival skills involve burning something with a curling iron, and even for that I’d need electricity. And I don’t like anything that slithers. I mean I know I’ve been a pain in your very nice ass but you wouldn’t do—”
A laugh bubbled up in his chest, trapping itself in his throat as he looked out the window and heard her prattle on. The urge to smile, to try and lift the scarred side of his mouth, was a new sensation. And that was the other reason he’d wanted to assuage his curiosity, right there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to smile before she jumped into his world, a burst of colorful explosions in the stark gray of his sky, a sprout of life blooming in the land of death, a festival in a field that had only witnessed funerals. And now that he’d experienced that, like an addict, he wanted more.
“Breathe,” he instructed as he’d naturally begun to when she started hyperventilating with her own imagination, her words coming too fast one after the other. She shut up, inhaled, mumbled an apology, and fell silent.
He thought it was fucking cute, and he didn’t even like the word.
She was though. He was actually looking forward to seeing her reaction to his compound and his bois. And he was juggling whether he wanted to put her in the guest house or tempt fate by putting her in the adjoining bedroom. Maybe, he needed a middle ground, to give her the bedroom near the kitchen. But that would be the most susceptible to any external attack. No, just for the sake of her safety, he'd give her the room adjoining his. Only for safety. It had nothing to do with how attractive he found her. Nothing to do with how he wanted to both cuddle her and smear her with his cum, the dual urges in him equally strong, the pure and the filthy desires colliding in perfect balance. He could imagine coming on her tits after fucking her mouth, fingering her while she screamed for release, one he wouldn’t give until she begged. Fuck, she’d look good with him on her.
And he could just imagine how happy she’d be, sitting there all fucked up, looking like his little personal slut he'd threatened to call her, with her bright eyes and flushed skin and happy smile, right before she called him by some ridiculous term of endearment like 'lobster' (which she'd done that morning when he'd picked her up). It was ridiculous.
He subtly adjusted himself even as a part of him wanted to smile.
Fucking infuriating.