Page 10 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

Fear pumps through my veins, an intense surge of terror threatening to swallow me whole as his fingers move to start unbuttoning his shirt.

I swallow hard, watching his movements. His hand grazes my crotch as he untucks his shirt to undo the last button.

My breath hitches, my pulse throbbing loudly in my ears.

He leans forward slightly, and I lean back, only for him to grab me when I nearly fall off his lap.

His dark chuckle echoes around us, sending shivers down my spine.

His nose skims across my collarbone, a feather-light touch that feels like a bolt of electricity.

His hand, warm and firm, rests on my lower back, holding me in place.

My body is paralyzed, locked in his iron grip.

“You smell divine,” he whispers, his hot breath caressing my skin.

A shudder runs through me. I can’t breathe.

I can’t move. But then, he sits back and laughs, the sound jarring in the tense silence.

He pulls his shirt off, revealing his muscular torso, his obscenely wide shoulders and well-defined chest.

Dion’s arms are large with chiseled, vein-riddled muscles. The rippling of his biceps flexes with the movement of his hands. His abs tense as he sits back in his chair.

Dion has dark hair dusting his sternum along with a trail of hair disappearing into his pants.

His arms are covered in tattoos, and I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from him, as if locked in a trance.

His skin is warm as I sweep my hands over his chest and down.

My fingers tingle from the heat when he clears his throat.

I snap out of my strange haze, shifting my eyes to him.

He seems amused, and I remove my hands from his skin as if his touch burns me.

He holds out the shirt to me with a smirk. I stare at him, stunned, before I snatch the shirt from his grasp.

The fabric is warm, smelling of him— smokey fire, and something unmistakably male.

I slip my arms into it just as he tears the remnants of my dress that is bunched at my hips.

I hasten to button up the shirt, but he stops me, his hands suddenly replacing mine.

His touch burns through the fabric, searing my skin.

My breath hitches when his fingers stop between my breasts.

His gaze shifts, darkening, becoming predatory, as his dark hair falls into his eyes.

He cups my breast before brushing his thumb over my hardened nipple.

Tingles trace every inch of my skin, and I shiver at the sensation.

He moves beneath me, revealing the hardness pressing against me.

I gasp and move to climb off him, but he pulls me back.

“You don’t need to fear me, little mate. ”

He leans in, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I won’t fuck you yet,” he purrs, sending a wave of fear coursing through me. “But I want something else.” His voice is a soft growl.

“What?” I manage to whisper, the word barely audible, threatening to choke me.

His lips curve into a wicked smile. “Your blood,” he says, the words a growl in the quiet of the car.

A rush of terror takes my breath away. Blood. He wants my blood. But why? Is he going to hurt me? Kill me? My mind races through every horrible possibility; each thought more terrifying than the last.

“What… why?” I stammer, my voice shaking as much as my body. Dion simply chuckles, a sound as cold as his gaze.

“I know you’ve heard stories of who I am and what I am. Everyone has,” he whispers.

“Hybrid,” I answer, swallowing the lump that has lodged in my throat.

“Hm,” he murmurs, nipping along my jaw to my chin.

“I want to taste you, Emery,” he purrs, his voice a low, throaty growl that makes my skin crawl.

“And your scent… it’s intoxicating.” He groans before gripping my throat and plunging his tongue into my mouth.

He kisses me deeply, a lewd sound leaving the back of his throat.

His tongue tastes every inch of my mouth, and he becomes more forceful, rougher.

He growls and I jerk away from him. But he leans back in his chair, his hand gripping my thigh, fingers digging into my flesh. “You are making it very difficult for me to control myself when you don’t comply,” he says angrily while watching me.

“I did nothing,” I answer, worried he’ll chuck me back in the trunk.

“Exactly, you don’t react, just freeze up, it irritates me.”

I crease my brows. What does he expect? He kidnapped me! It then dawns on me what he means.

“You wanted me to kiss you back?” I ask, and he tilts his head to the side.

“You are my mate,” he answers flatly, “it’s expected.” My face heats and I glance away. He grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “What is it?” he demands.

“You killed my parents!” I spit at him. Is he dense?

“And they killed my Luna and son,” he snarls back. I chew my lip, not believing him. How can my parents be responsible for rogues attacking his pack? He lifts his hand to tap on the window of the limo, and my gaze widens. I grip his wrist, and he watches me for a second.

“Fine, I’ll kiss you... just don’t put me back in the trunk,” I mumble the last part, tearing my gaze away from him to peer out the window.

“Your face is so red,” he chuckles. “Almost like you’re embarrassed about something.” I glare at him. His eyebrows raise. “You are.”

“I am not,” I retort. He raises an eyebrow at me and shakes his head.

“Prove it, then,” he tells me. I swallow, my gaze darting to his lips and I bite down on mine. He leans forward, gripping my neck, his eyes on mine, flashing wickedly.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before,” he smiles as if this news excites him, while my face heats to the point I believe I’ve turned completely red.

“Technically, you did just kiss me, so now I have kissed someone,” I tell him.

“No... I kissed you, and you remained stiff like a damn board,” he growls when his lips tug in the corners.

“But don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to rectify that,” he tells me before his lips crash against my own, his thumb on my chin probing my lips apart.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, brushing mine gently.

When I don’t kiss him back, his fangs graze my bottom lip in warning, nicking them.

I hiss but hesitantly kiss him back. He deepens the kiss, pulling me closer, and I pull away for air.

I’m panting, nervously curious about what comes next.

I study his face, trying to discern what he’s thinking by his expression.

But it just seems like a mask, a cold, hard mask for a stranger, which I suppose he is.

“I want you,” he growls before kissing my jawline down my neck, his teeth grazing the skin.

I flinch when his fangs graze my chin, a thin line of blood trailing down it. He licks it up with a satisfied groan.

He presses his hands along my jaw, tilting my head to the side, exposing a spot right below my ear. His lips press against my skin, kissing and nibbling each spot along the way.

A shudder runs through me. My body tenses. He’s going to bite me. He will sink his fangs into my skin, and draw my blood... I squeeze my eyes shut, anticipating the pain.

He leans in, sweeping my hair over one shoulder. His lips brush against my neck, a feather-light touch that hitches my breath. His hot breath tickles my skin, his hand gripping my hip tightly. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can do is wait, frozen in fear.

Then, I feel it. He sinks his teeth into the thin skin there, and I wince.

My body stiffens, and my heart pounds in my chest. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, and feel the throbbing pulse where his fangs are buried in my flesh.

His tongue sweeps over my neck, lapping at my blood.

The pain doesn’t last long, it starts to slip away, replaced with something else, something darker, deliciously sinful.

I press closer to him, chasing the feeling, wanting to know where it ends.

My entire body feels like a live wire is vibrating beneath my skin.

He groans, pulling me closer, his hand squeezing my ass.

“That’s it, feels good, doesn’t it,” he purrs before biting me again.

“Yes!” I answer, my voice almost trancelike, dazed with euphoria. I’m dizzy, lightheaded.

I hear Dion growl, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. His grip on me tightens, his body pressing me closer. I can’t help but whimper, the fear and the confusion overwhelming as it snakes around my limbs abruptly like a serpent squeezing the air from my lungs.

“Remember, little mate, I can control how it feels, pain or bliss, the choice is yours,” he whispers.

The euphoria returns. It washes over every sense and I close my eyes at the sensation.

I feel like I am spinning. A moan escapes my lips as my entire body starts to tingle.

The longer he feeds on me, the stronger it gets, and I feel my nails sink into his chest, scraping the flesh away beneath my fingernails.

Dion pulls back, his eyes dark red and intense. His lips are smeared with my blood, a terrifying sight that makes my stomach churn. He smirks, licking his lips slowly.

“You taste as good as you smell, Emery,” he murmurs.

I can’t find the words to respond, my mind still reeling from the shock. I stare at him as my hand instinctively reaches up, touching the fresh wounds on my neck.

They already feel sore, and as he leans forward.

I gasp,praying he won’t do it again. His tongue sweeps over the puncture marks, and I feel them close as his saliva heals me.

I touch the spot on my neck. I furrow my brow, feeling the healed bite mark.

How is that possible? Only mates can heal mates.

My thoughts spill from my lips. “I don’t understand; mates don’t exist.”

“Or so everyone thought,” he whispers, and my gaze snaps to his.

Dion laughs, a low, cruel sound that grates on my nerves. He pulls me closer, his arm snaking around my waist.