Page 12 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
“OK, well, that’s not far off, then,” he says when the room begins to fill with people, the atmosphere growing more intense. My heart pounds in my chest as I sit there, awaiting my introduction to this new world, my heart heavy with uncertainty and fear.
However, as the room and seats fill up, people still wander around, trying to make room.
“Emery,” Alpha Dion speaks, jolting me from my thoughts.
He pushes out his chair and taps his lap.
My eyes widen, and silence falls at our table.
Surely, he doesn’t expect me to sit on his lap in front of everyone.
When I don’t move, he presses his lips in a line and starts to count. “1… 2...” A woman across from me nods toward the Alpha, urging me to do as he says.
“You don’t want me getting to the next one, Emery, not in front of everyone,” he warns, and I shove my chair out.
Standing, I drop my ass on his lap, hoping I squash his junk. However, he tucks the chair back in when his hand falls on my thigh, his fingers bunching the dress, and my eyes widen when I feel his fingertips graze between my legs.
“Consequences, you’ll learn them,” he growls in my ear. I grip his hand, turning slightly to glare at him.
“Something wrong?” he questions, with a devilish smirk, and I go to tell him he knows exactly what’s wrong when he clears his throat, making me remember there are other people in the room. Turning back to the table, I find all of them staring at me.
My body tenses at his first touch, as if preparing to flee.
I can feel the warmth of his hands radiating through my skin, igniting a fire inside me.
Every inch of me is humming with anticipation, however, something holds me back.
With one careless gesture, he had opened the gates; my wildest desires are coursing through my veins like electricity.
My knee hits the bottom of the table, and I jump, startled by this sudden realization.
He doesn’t move away, instead he cups me in his hand, and I can feel my pussy throbbing in response to his touch.
His nose trails across my shoulder to the back of my ear.
The room’s temperature seems to drop as he breathes, “Consider this to be an appetizer. The main course is yet to come,” he purrs, and I squirm on his lap.
Dinner is served. Platters of roasted meats. Bowls of fresh vegetables, vibrant and crisp. There are loaves of fresh bread, fruit baskets, and various cheeses. But I can only focus on the hand between my legs, teasing and caressing my folds.
The maid comes over, carrying a set of silverware.
As she reaches to hand it to me, Dion intercepts, his fingers wrapping around the fork and knife before he returns them to the maid.
I open my mouth to protest, only to feel his hand moving again, harder.
His voice is a soft, dangerous whisper in my ear, the threat sending a chill down my spine.
“Cause a scene, and I will make one of you and let them watch,” he warns.
I snap my mouth shut, forcing myself to sit still and ignore the intrusion.
Dion picks up a piece of roasted meat, holding it to my lips with his fork. “I can always feed you something else.” His suggestive comment earns a few laughs from the men at the table, but the woman across from me gives me a look of sympathy.
It’s clear she’s witnessed such behavior before, and it’s just as clear that it’s tolerated in this pack.
As the dinner continues, his fingers venture further.
His exploration becomes more intrusive, making it harder for me to keep my composure.
When he spreads my legs further, a gasp escapes me.
Before I can move, his finger plunges inside me.
I feel myself jolt, but his other hand presses firmly against my stomach, holding me in place.
Fear, anger, and humiliation rush through me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I clench my fists, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
“Breathe, it’s only one,” he purrs next to my ear. “Breathe,” he whispers, and my gaze darts to everyone at the table, all too busy talking among themselves and not paying attention to what he’s doing to me under the table.
“Open your legs.”
I shake my head. He goes to say something but then pauses as the maids return, clearing the table, and I am forced to sit back as they clear everything, giving him what he wants.
Dessert is served, a creamy and rich pudding that does little to distract from the continued torment.
His fingers are relentless, exploring, pushing, pressing, and each touch sends jolts of unwanted pleasure through me.
His thumb circles my clit, and my body reacts despite my determination to resist. I grab his hand under the table, trying to still his movements.
As his fangs graze the back of my shoulder, I turn my head to look at him, his eyes meeting mine with a warning. The wetness between my legs increases, making me squirm and grit my teeth. I try to turn toward him to distract him from his torment, but he pulls me back against him.
“Don’t you want your dessert?” I ask, desperation seeping into my voice. He chuckles darkly at my question, sending a wave of dread coursing through me.
“I’ll eat mine when everyone leaves.” His response and the laughter from the men at the table confuse me until I feel sweat beading at the nape of my neck.
His relentless touch pushes me to the brink of a climax I don’t want.
I struggle to remain still and quiet, the sensations making me squirm, and I lean back against him, my eyes falling shut.
The sudden scraping of chairs pulls me back to reality.
People are leaving, and I try to take advantage of the moment to escape.
But his grip tightens, keeping me firmly in place.
His Beta smirks and, to my horror, sniffs the air; my eyes widen when I realize my arousal must be apparent to him, not just him but everyone in the room.
I feel a new wave of humiliation wash over me.
“The meeting tomorrow, is it still going ahead, or do you want me to cancel it?” he asks Dion.
“It will go ahead like normal,” Dion speaks smoothly while I squirm; the man’s lips tug like he knows exactly what the alpha is doing to me under the table.
“Very well; I will make sure everything is organized. Enjoy your dessert, Alpha,” he snorts before wandering off.
After the Beta leaves and the door closes behind him, Dion moves with an unnatural speed, even for a werewolf.
He pushes me onto the table, his body pressing between my legs.
I gasp in fright, my heart pounding as I stare up at him.
His eyes are blood-red, filled with an unholy desire.
His finger slides into me again, only for him to remove it slowly, adding another and sending a wave of discomfort through me.
“Please, I don’t want this,” I murmur, squirming under him. His purring response sends a chill down my spine as his thumb brushes over my clit. My hips jerk against him instinctively, betraying my words. He withdraws his fingers, and I stare at the ceiling, relief washing over me.
But it’s short-lived. His hot breath washes over me, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me closer to him.
“What are you—” I begin, but my words dissolve into a soft moan as his tongue swipes across my folds.
His mouth explores me, his tongue circling my clit.
A gasp escapes me, my body betraying my mind as my legs fall open further, giving him easier access.
I grip the edges of the table, my knuckles turning white. Each touch of his tongue sends waves of pleasure through me, pushing me toward the brink of climax.
“Don’t... Stop,” I whimper, but I’m not sure if he hears me or if my words are even true.
His fingers part my folds, his tongue dipping into me, the wetness of my desire slicking his way. His tongue dips into me, exploring me. It swirls around my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me, making me heady with desire.
He circles my clit, teasing me and bringing me closer to climax.
My moans become louder as I grip the table harder for support.
His fingers now join in, thrusting deeper into me with a steady rhythm, pushing me toward an inevitable release that is too far away.
He thrusts his fingers into me, the sensations alternating between pleasure and pain.
My breathing grows labored as my muscles tense with anticipation of my climax.
But he doesn’t let me reach it, each stroke pushing me further but never allowing me release until I’m trembling beneath him in frustration.
My hips lift, rocking against his mouth, until his hands grip my thighs.
“Look at you, Emery,” Dion coos, his voice heavy with raw desire. “So eager for me, aren’t you?”
I can only whimper in response, my body taut and trembling under his sinfully skilled touch. I shake my head. He chuckles darkly, his breath fanning over my exposed core, and the sensation sends a jolt of need coursing through me.
“Your body betrays you, little mate,” he murmurs, his fingers teasing the sensitive folds of my sex. “It craves me, aches for my touch. You may not understand why, but you feel it, don’t you?”
“Dion...” My voice trembles, pleading, a mix of desperation and desire.
He grins, eyes glinting wickedly. “Yes, love?”
With a deep growl, he pulls back, leaving me gasping, bereft of his touch. He spreads me open with firm hands, his eyes drinking in every inch of my exposed, quivering body.
“The things I plan to do to you,” he murmurs, a sinful promise in his voice.
His fingers trail downward, pressing, teasing, exploring territories previously untouched. I moan, unable to stop myself, writhing under his gaze, humiliation warring with arousal as his thumb brushes over my back entrance.
“Do you feel this?” His hot breath tickles against my skin, making me twitch.