Page 33 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

“Like you did earlier with Alpha Dane,” I retort, my own minimal aura slipping out and challenging his. The voices draw closer, and I glance around in panic, knowing my own barely there aura challenging him; he definitely felt it, even if it was a nudge.

Panicking, Zayn presses closer, his eyes holding mine when I hear the voices halt abruptly recognizing a threat near, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss him. He freezes, shocked, but his aura drops instantly as my actions take him by surprise.

Zayn’s eyes widen as my lips press against his. I can feel his surprise and hesitation. I’m too desperate to think about the consequences right now. All I know is that we need to play it cool until whoever is approaching leaves.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

For a moment, everything else fades away, and I forget about the danger we’re in.

My tongue sweeps across his lips, and I vaguely hear their voices again over the purring sound he makes in the back of his throat as he kisses me back. The voices grow fainter, and relief floods me. This was a terrible idea. I pull away abruptly, having avoided detection when I hear them leave.

“They’re gone,” I tell him, peering over his arm in the direction they went. My shoulders drop, and I lean against the pillar and let out a breath of relief only to find Zayn has a silly smirk on his face.

“You kissed me,” he tells me like I don’t know that.

“Yeah, because your aura was about to give us away. I am in enough trouble because of you!” I tell him, and his smile only gets bigger. This man is absurd!

Zayn’s eyes dance with a teasing glint, his smirk deepening at my attempt to explain the kiss. “Ah, so it was a strategic move to avoid detection, was it?”

I swallow at his words because he leans closer. I nod, not trusting my voice.

“And now?” he asks, his lips brushing mine as he speaks.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble,” I whisper.

“But you’re not pulling away,” he smirks. I open my mouth to tell him it’s the sire bond when he grips the back of my neck, dragging me closer until I am pressed up against him. His breath sweeps over my lips, and a strangled gasp leaves me.

“Tell me not to, and I won’t. Tell me to stop,” he whispers, yet my entire body tingles at his words, my heart fluttering in my chest. Because I don’t want him to stop, and I know I should. I can’t bring myself to say the words.

His eyes flicker to his beast momentarily, and a wicked grin splits his face. “I didn’t think so.”

Zayn’s lips crash onto mine once again, igniting a sense of urgency and fiery passion that sends my senses into overdrive. His kiss is a perfect balance of control and longing, his mouth exploring mine with such intensity that I am left breathless and yearning for more.

His hands roam over my back, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel the solid strength of his body. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.

As he finally pulls back, leaving us both gasping for air, he gives me a smoldering look that promises more. “Now, that’s the kind of trouble I could get used to,” Zayn says huskily, his eyes alight with a mix of desire and affection.

At this moment, under the spell of his kiss and his mesmerizing gaze, I agree.

Being in trouble with Zayn feels dangerously right.

As we pull apart, my cheeks flush with desire and excitement, I reach up to touch my swollen lips. It’s not the first time we’ve been caught in a moment of passion, each time feels more electric than the last.

“We really can’t do this here,” I remind him, my voice shaky from the intensity of the kiss.

“But you didn’t say we couldn’t,” he chuckles, and my face flames at his words because he is right. I should be shoving him away, telling him off, anything apart from kissing him. His fingers trace along my jaw.

Despite the warning siren sounding in the back of my mind, I find myself inexplicably drawn to Zayn, his rough exterior and fierceness impossible to resist.

“I just…” I say, searching for the words to fix everything, to end whatever this is because it’s wrong. “You know we can’t keep doing this,” I whisper, feeling my resolve weaken in his presence.

“You keep pushing me away despite not wanting me gone,” he sighs, his eyes searching mine. “I can’t stay away from you.” He presses his forehead against mine.

“Come on, let me feed you at least before you kick me to the curb,” he chuckles, grabbing my hand.

Zayn leads me off campus, and despite no one being around, my paranoia of being caught by someone is strong. Unlocking his car, he opens my door, motioning for me to get in. I slip into the seat, and Zayn goes around to the driver’s side, climbing in before starting the car.

“So, are you going to tell me what your father said?” he asks, reversing out of the parking space and turning onto the road.

“Nope, because you’ve started enough issues already, I will pass on extra,” I tell him, and he growls, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. He doesn’t say anything else, driving us through the city. After driving for a few more minutes, I glance at him nervously.

“Where are we going?” I ask him.

“My place, since you don’t want to be seen in public with me.” My heartbeat quickens as he pulls onto the highway.

“Why do you look nervous hearing that?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’m not, I just probably shouldn’t be alone around you.”

“Well, we can go to a restaurant if you prefer,” he laughs, and I raise a brow at him. “Chill, I’m just playing. Not my fault you don’t trust yourself around me.”

I glare at him. “That is not why! I…”

“Keep telling yourself that, you’re not scared of me, or you wouldn’t have gotten in my car. You certainly wouldn’t have kissed me.”

My face heats. “Just focus on driving!” I snap at him, knowing he is only taunting me.

Zayn smirks, not taking his eyes off the road as he navigates the winding highway headed toward his pack house. I cross my arms and stare out the window, trying to keep my frustrated emotions in check.

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, with only the sound of the engine and the wind rushing past us. Eventually, we pull up at the front gates. He fiddles with the visor, and the gates unlock; his men on guard nod as he passes them.

We follow the road to his driveway and park in the circular courtyard, surrounded by tall trees and lush foliage. The main house stands high above us, illuminated by the moonlight.

As I get out of the car, Zayn follows me to the front door, opening it for me with a smile. We enter the dimly lit house, and he flips on the lights.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he grins, ‘I’m going to get out of this suit,” he tells me, leaving me as my eyes adjust to the light.

I head through the grand foyer, taking in the luxurious furniture and high ceilings, feeling out of place among the opulence. Zayn finds me a few minutes later, walking toward me in sweats and a tank, his eyes intent on me as he closes the space.

He places his hands on my hips, pulling me closer until I’m flush against him, and brushes his lips over mine. “Hungry?” he asks. I pull away from him, my hands flattening against his broad chest.

“Actually, we should talk,” I tell him, knowing what I need to do.

“We can talk after I feed you,” he tells me, leading me to the kitchen. I sigh, letting him direct me to the kitchen and I take a seat at the island.

Zayn cracks open a beer, before tossing one to me, and I catch it, noticing the way his muscles ripple under his tank. As he opens the fridge, I watch him, taking a swig of beer, handing me one.

Zayn’s movements are graceful and confident as he pulls out various ingredients from the fridge, humming to himself.

His scent fills the room - a mix of woodsy musk and freshly bathed skin.

The clink of glassware and metal on metal echoes against the stainless-steel surfaces.

I finish my beer, then he goes to the fridge before pulling out an open bottle of wine.

He pours some wine into a glass and hands it to me, his fingers brushing against mine as he does so.

It tickles my senses, sending shivers down my spine.

“Tell me what you like in your food,” he asks while chopping up some vegetables with precision.

I watch him work, his hands almost dancing across the cutting board with an ease that speaks volumes of his experience in the kitchen.

I sip from the glass, feeling the smoothness of the wine glide down my throat as I ponder his question. “Surprise me,” I finally reply with a smile.

“Challenge accepted,” he murmurs lowly before getting lost in his task once again - sautéing onions now while keeping an eye on something simmering on the stove top simultaneously.

The aroma of garlic begins to fill the air, making my mouth water.

His movements are graceful and predatory as he prepares the food, and I find myself entranced, before he glances at me over his shoulder.

“Like what you see?”

I blush a little, looking away quickly because damn it, he knows he looks good in this kitchen. He chuckles softly before turning back to his cooking.

He pours the leftover wine into a pan, the sizzling sounds fill the room as he tosses two big steaks in it with seasoning and olive oil.

He sears each side then slides it onto a baking sheet, making sure to season both sides evenly before popping them into the hot oven.

The smell intensifies as they cook, making my stomach gurgle with hunger.

“So,” I start tentatively, “My father…” I trail off, wanting to get this over with, yet he cuts me off, holding the wine bottle up.