Page 17 of Protector (Alpha Ties)

SEVENTEEN

ADDIE

I awake, warm, and entirely relaxed.

It’s such a disorienting sensation, I just lay there for a while, blinking into the pillow.

A low rumble sounds from all around me, vibrating into my bones, and the warmth seems to center behind my ribs as his awareness floods through me.

There is a curious lack of panic when realization strikes. Somewhere past my cocoon of luxurious relaxation, I know I should be kicking and fighting to get away from the man resting heavily on my back, not submitting to the instincts murmuring about how he’ll take care of me. I just can’t seem to muster up the willpower. I don’t remember the last time I felt safe like this.

He rubs his nose along the side of my neck, drawing a hum from me I didn’t intend to make. Embarrassment tries to pierce through my calm, but the heat of his soft lips on my jaw quickly diverts my attention. I’m not prepared for the flicker of fire down low, but my small gasp and brush of unease makes him rumble that soothing sound into my ear that has my body jellifying.

“Shh. Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with sleep. Slowly he slides a warm hand down along my side to where my nightgown is bunching around my hips. “I’ve got you.”

God, why does my abdomen clench when he calls me a good girl? A memory of him groaning those exact words last night sharpens in my brain, and this time there’s no holding back the flood of embarrassment—nor the rush of wetness dampening my underwear. Shit, what am I thi ? —

My mounting panic is cut short when strong teeth clamp around the back of my neck, triggering the pressure points located there. Without my conscious decision, my entire body goes lax, and my thoughts float off to hazy nothingness on a rush of endorphins.

His large, warm hand strokes back up along my side, then down again, a caress that makes my skin hum with awareness even though he’s keeping his touch on top of my clothes. Again and again he strokes me, and it takes me several moments to even realize when he releases his grip on my neck.

“I’ll take care of you,” he rumbles, and everything inside of me softens, because God, I need that. Just a few more moments where I don’t have to think, don’t have to worry…

He’s so warm. In his embrace, underneath his heavy body, I barely recall what it was like to be cold all the time. Or scared. His scent is all around me, intoxicating and safe, and when he slips his hand up underneath my nightgown and strokes his fingers up over my hip along my side to cup a breast, I don’t fight my moan of pleasure.

He groans above me, the sound rougher than before. It draws a thrill up my spine, and without thought, I spread my thighs.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” he rasps, nuzzling at my hair.

“More.” I don’t mean to give voice to the mounting tension between my legs, but it snaps out of me with the sharpness of a command.

He rumbles a breath into my hair and slips his hand not cupping my breast around my hip and into the front of my underwear. “Yes, ma’am.”

When he touches my clit, sharp sensation rocks through my pelvis and I jerk in response. God, yes. I need this.

I pant into the pillow and press my mound down to grind on his fingers—not that I need to. He strokes me just right, pulling at my hood and squeezing the little bud underneath until I’m a whining, sweaty mess of sensation and mindless desire.

“Jacob, more!” I don’t hear the words, don’t register the growl escaping my throat—but I do notice when that wonderful stimulation stops for a moment, and something sharp spikes through my chest: anger. He’s angry.

Cold fear shoots up my spine, but before panic can follow, the alpha growls—rich and deep and threatening… and it makes molten fire flare through my veins as liquid want rushes from my core. My ass shoots up in pure animal response, pressing against his stomach until he kneels up to allow me to fully present myself.

I pant hard, dazed and confused and burning. What am I doing? What is happening to me? God, I’m hot and cold all over, and I need this— but behind the heat throbbing through my body, terror frantically tries to claw its way through.

He growls again, the sound still edged with darkness, but also decidedly pleased. I feel his warm fingers slip under the waistband of my panties again, but instead of returning to my pulsing clit, he yanks.

I yelp at the sharp tug before the elastic snaps and the fabric rips, leaving me bare. Needy and wet and bare.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable. The last time he had me on my knees like this I was scared out of my mind, beaten and broken—but I wasn’t wet. Wasn’t aching with every cell in my body for something I know hurts so bad it makes me shake with the memory of it.

Warm hands slide over my hips, gripping me tightly before one trails down between my legs to palm my dripping sex.

I can’t hold back a whimper, but though my clit throbs at the contact, the sound I make is more fear than want.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says, attempting to soothe me despite the obvious lust graveling his deep voice. “I won’t go inside, not yet.”

Not yet. Those two words tense my stomach with equal parts terror and desire. Not yet—but soon. A promise— fuck, I want him, need him inside—and a threat. He will be inside of me, he’ll force me open and make it hurt, and it won’t matter how much I scream?—

He rumbles another growl, frustration lacing it this time, and shifts behind me to press a palm against my spine, right on my nape where I can’t resist.

My body reacts on pure biological wiring—submitting willingly despite the panic clawing its way up through my esophagus. My ass lifts higher, my knees part wider, and every inch of my skin is tight.

He strokes his free hand down my spine, soothing circles that make my nipples harden and have me arching to draw his attention to where my body needs him most.

When he finally reaches my pussy again and slips two fingers through my soaking lips to reach for my clit, I moan.

“That’s it. That’s all we’re gonna do.” He breathes deeply, and I feel the smolder of his desire through our bond. He wants me. He wants inside of me, despite his raspy promises.

“No.” My whimper is entirely contradicted by my pussy rocking down to meet his fingers, forcing another blaze of pleasure through my throbbing body.

He rubs me more firmly in response, his other hand heavier on my nape. “Shh. I’m not going inside. I promise.”

But I want him to. Instincts I can do nothing to resist are screaming at me to take him in my still-battered pussy until he’s so deep I won’t be able to breathe, and it doesn’t matter that I’ll hurt and rip and bleed, doesn’t matter that I am nothing but a hole to use and abuse. My body needs him all the same.

“No! No, no, no, get off me!”

He grunts and jerks, and I feel a ghost of pain through our bond as his chip forces his hands from my body.

The second he releases my neck, I scramble forward, panic in my throat, and stumble off the bed, barely keeping my footing.

Free. I’m free.

I force several long, deep mouthfuls of air through my lungs until the terror fades to a manageable level. My body still throbs, and the sound of his harsh breaths behind me makes my pussy shiver.

I need to get a grip before I lose my goddamn mind.

I hold out a finger in his general direction, without looking behind me. “I’m getting a shower. Do not follow me. That’s an order.”

He doesn’t respond, but the burn of our bond follows me as I leave him—smoldering desire, and the almost familiar return of his seething hatred.

He is waiting for me when I, now wrapped in a bath sheet, exit the ensuite. Spine straight and hands clasped behind his back, he stands next to the door—as close as he can get without disobeying my orders.

“There are extra towels in the vanity. Clean yourself up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I don’t miss the dark look he gives me as he moves past and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He never liked my orders, but he eventually learned to take them without a hint of disobedience. Something that seems to be much harder for him now.

I swallow against the stab of darkness when memories threaten my consciousness with why he no longer respects me like he used to. He’s seen me more vulnerable, knows me far more intimately than anyone has before.

Even now, the cursed bond between us makes it impossible to hide just how broken I still am.

I grit my teeth and force down the sensation of his weight on top of me, and the memory of how it felt like I would shatter into nothingness if he didn’t hold me tighter. Touch me deeper.

I head to the closet to get some clean clothes, but despite my best attempts at ignoring the barbed wire burrowing angrily behind my ribs with every step I take away from the closed bathroom door, I stop a few feet short.

This cannot be normal. My parents manage to be apart when my dad goes to work, so why does it feel like this when I’m more than a few yards from my ma—from AX2?

I could force myself the last few steps to the closet, but I don’t.

When my mother finds me a few moments later, I’m sulking in the occasional chair I’ve dragged over to the bathroom door from its usual place by the window.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Her tone is chipper, but her lips tremble as she takes in the yellowing bruises on my arms and legs. “I brought your mate some of Dad’s old clothes. They might be a bit tight, but they’ll do while I get his uniform washed.”

I reflexively accept the pile of fabric she places in my arms: jeans, socks, a tank top, and a red flannel shirt, all pieces I vaguely remember my dad wearing on the few relaxed weekends he allowed himself back when I was still living at home. At least she’s had the good grace not to include any of his underwear.

I blink at the flannel as a foggy image of AX2 lounging on the couch with a newspaper open attempts to form in my mind’s eye. It’s too absurd to solidify

“Thanks, Mom.” I give her a weak smile.

She watches me for a beat, then sighs and sinks down on the armrest by my side. Her soft hands smooth my still damp hair. “You should be in there with him, Addie.”

A flush bites my cheeks at the implication. “No.”

She smiles at my tone, but there’s empathy in her eyes. “The more physical closeness you allow, the easier you’ll find the transition phase. I know you haven’t had a traditional courting, and I know that you’ve never wanted to be an alpha’s mate, but that doesn’t mean you two can’t find happiness together.”

I pull away from her hands still stroking over my hair. “Happiness? He mated me because I didn’t want to die and I ordered him to. He obeyed only because he is more machine than he is human. There is no transition phase to be had. All I needed was to survive.”

At that exact moment, I feel a shudder of pleasure from the place my bond is hooked behind my ribs. It warms my blood as it travels the length of my body, centering low in my abdomen. Uninvited memories of AX2’s touch sliding up between my thighs make my cheeks flood with another burst of embarrassment, but the ache in my clit is not my doing. It’s him. He’s… taking care of himself in the shower, and our connection makes me feel the ghostly echo of it.

My mother cocks her head at me and lets her slim fingers rest on mine for a moment before she pushes back to her feet. “You might be right. Does it matter? Whatever you did to him in that lab of yours, he’s your mate now. When you screamed last night, he was by your side before your dad and I could so much as make it out of bed.

“Besides, orders or not—I will forever be grateful to him that he brought me back my daughter.” She gives me a sad little smile and heads for the door. “Breakfast is ready, once you’re both dressed. Your dad got a call early this morning to bring you in for a debriefing, but take whatever time together you need. I’ll be damned if I see the people who allowed my daughter to get kidnapped interrupt her bonding phase with her new mate.”

She’s out the door before I can repeat that there’s no bonding phase to be had.

I groan and scrub both hands over my face as it dawns on me that if they heard me screaming last night, and she knows AX2 was by my side, she must’ve come to check on me as well, but have decided I was already in safe hands.

Hopefully she didn’t stay long enough to see how, exactly, the alpha took care of me.

The exact moment I recall how my body ached for him, my bond shivers and wetness dampens my sex. Uninvited images of his rugged face twisting with pleasure flicker before my mind’s eye as a muted groan makes it through the closed bathroom door. He’s found his climax.

I jerk to my feet, flushed and embarrassed and aching all at the same time, but when I try to flee to the other side of the room to distract myself, my bond flares angrily and my steps falter.

Dammit! I scrub my hands over my face again and try to think of anything but the heat in my core. I want to be angry—it’s so much safer than this horrible sensation of teetering on the edge of that dark place my mind seems about to slip into whenever I am reminded of the bunker and what was done to me while I was there. The throb between my thighs in response to his pleasure brings an echo of raw terror—and a fresh reminder that I can’t function without him. Only when he’s wrapped around me like he was last night does the constant, sucking undertow of darkness relinquish its grasp.

But try as I might, I can’t find it in me to be angry that he needs relief. Not when he’s clearly being as discreet as he can, and not when I can still recall how I writhed and begged him for more. He could have clamped a hand to my mouth and had me like he was clearly desperate to, and he didn’t.

That realization makes me slowly lower my hands from my face. For all intents and purposes, AX2 is nothing but a fusion of technology and biology. There was no reason for him to hold himself back—not when every instinct in the primitive parts of his brain would have been firing to mount the female offering herself to him. I don’t know of any fully human alpha who would have.

And yet…

I flush as I remember how he promised me he wouldn’t penetrate me—and how part of me desperately wanted him to.

He must have realized I would punish him severely afterward. One of the hallmarks of the AX model is how their programing wires in with parts of their brain to allow them to predict consequences.

Yes. That’ll be the explanation.

After all, he can’t feel empathy.