Page 9 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter (Moonbound Mates #3)

I lose all sense of where I am and where I’m going. All I know is that I have to escape—that I can’t let any of these alphas catch me. I stay half-shifted, unable to take the time to turn fully as I sprint for my life.

I’ve almost made it to the elevator when two alphas collide right in front of me, both fully shifted with bare teeth and claws.

They shred each other’s fur and flesh, one turning toward me with flashing red eyes.

I fall on my ass and scramble backwards.

One of these men will claim me. It’s only a matter of time.

My heart drops.

Cruelty…that’s what’s in store for me.

There’s barely any warning before a third lycan joins the fray. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t snarl, doesn’t bother with posturing or circling like the others. He just erupts from the chaos, tearing through them like they’re nothing.

A blur of dark fur and raw strength, a force so quick, so brutal, so precise that the moment it happens, the others barely seem to understand what’s hit them.

He ignores them completely.

He only sees me.

And then—he shifts mid-air.

One second, there’s a beast barreling toward me, muscles coiled, eyes burning like fire. The next, he’s a man, human again the instant his body collides with mine, taking me down, pressing me into the cold, rain-slick metal of the platform.

A sob catches in my throat as his weight bears down, a sharp contrast of heat against the freezing steel, his chest broad and solid, crushing me down, keeping me caged beneath him. I struggle, my hands shoving at his shoulders, twisting my hips, but the second I move, I feel it?—

His cock, hard and heavy, nestled between my thighs.

His knot, swollen, eager, right where it belongs.

I freeze.

Something in me reacts before I can stop it, before my mind can catch up, before my instincts betray me completely.

A surge of rightness crashes through my veins, a deep, unshakable certainty, like I was meant to be here, like this is exactly where I belong.

This should feel wrong. I should be terrified.

I should be fighting for my life, screaming, snarling, trying to claw my way free.

But the moment his scent hits me…the first time I’ve smelled it, thanks to wolfsbane, like sea salt and tropical flowers…I know.

I know before I even see his face.

I know before he speaks.

I know before my wolf submits, before my body gives in, before my thighs squeeze together, trapping him there.

Javi.

The growl that rumbles through his chest vibrates against my skin, and I let out a shaking breath, my fingers gripping his arms now instead of pushing him away.

I’ve never felt anything like this, his cock grinding aginst my bare pussy, his body poised with a level of control that seems impossible during the full moon like this.

His breath is hot against my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, hovering at the place where an alpha is meant to claim what’s his.

But he doesn’t bite.

He could.

But he doesn’t.

His breath comes ragged, uneven, and when he speaks, his voice isn’t like the others. It isn’t triumphant or mocking or cruel. It’s low and guttural, a command that’s almost a plea.

"Stop struggling."

His lips brush against my pulse, a shiver running through me, my body trapped between his heat and the freezing storm around us.

"I’m not going to hurt you."

A sob escapes me, but this time, it isn’t fear…because I know it’s true.

Because for the first time tonight, I feel safe.

I hear the other alphas edging in around us, wind howling with them, and Javi puts his weight more firmly on top of me—like he’s preparing to resist being pulled away. He snaps his head up and snarls at the nearest alpha, Abel watching from the fringes.

He doesn’t have to say the words for me to know what the growl means: Mine.

The thought sends a fresh rush of slick between my thighs, my body betraying me in the worst, most humiliating way possible.

Javi’s attention snaps back to me, his nose dragging over my pulse point, over the bare skin of my throat, the place where a mate is supposed to bite.

Where he’s supposed to own me.

Where he’s supposed to sink his teeth in deep and make sure every alpha here knows I belong to him.

I feel lightheaded, dizzy, drunk on something I don’t understand.

I should hate this.

I should fear it.

But instead, I’m panting, arching, trembling, because every single one of his touches is making it worse.

Every press of his fingers against my hips, every brush of his mouth, every inch of his weight keeping me pinned, keeping me helpless, keeping me under him.

A shuddering breath rattles out of me, my body going still, waiting, my throat bared, exposed, mine to give but never to take back.

His tongue presses to my skin.

I gasp.

He laps at my pulse, slow, unhurried, as if he’s tasting me, savoring me, like he’s dragging out this moment just to punish me for wanting it.

Like he knows.

Like he feels it too.

Heat coils low in my stomach, turning thick, molten, unbearable.

"This might hurt," he murmurs.

And then he bites.

Pain sears through me, sharp and brutal, but the pleasure crashes down just as fast—so immediate, so shocking, so deep that my whole body tenses beneath him.

I cry out, my hips rolling against his knot, swollen and hot between my thighs.

I don’t even mean to.

I don’t even think.

I react, my body chasing it, seeking it, needing more, needing him.

I’m wet, aching, burning from the inside out, and Javi hisses when I grind against him, his fingers tightening on my hips, his grip so strong it’s bruising.

His tongue darts out, lapping at the fresh wound, soothing and claiming all at once, long strokes over my broken, tender skin, his mouth hot and wet, his weight impossible to escape.

I’m gasping, dizzy, barely aware of the way my fingers dig into his arms, how I’m clinging to him now instead of fighting.

I’ve never even been kissed.

Never been touched.

And now—no matter where I go, no matter if Javi was my fated mate or not?—

He’ll always be able to find me.

Because now, I’m marked.

Because now, I belong to him.

And from the way his body is shaking above mine, from the way his breath drags out like he’s fighting some war inside himself?—

I think he knows it too.

He draws back, his breath ragged, his pupils blown wide, green eyes locked onto mine like he can see straight into me, straight through me, straight to the part of me that already belongs to him.

I’m panting, trembling, my body still pinned beneath his, my wrists trapped beneath his hands, his thighs bracketing mine, his hips flush against me, solid and unrelenting.

A droplet of water falls from his dark, messy hair, landing right on my lips.

I suck in a breath, and his eyes drop—right to my mouth.

Like he’ll devour me.

Like he’s thinking about it.

Like he wants to taste me just as badly as I want to taste him.

He’s still so heavy on top of me, his heat radiating through the wet fabric of my shift, but it’s not enough—not nearly enough.

I don’t even realize I’ve moved until I feel it: my thighs clench around his waist, locking him in place. I don’t let him pull away, I don’t let him go. I keep him right where I want him, right between my legs, my body shamelessly, instinctively begging for more.

His breath catches.

I feel the sharp, unmistakable flex of his muscles, like he’s fighting something too big to contain.

Like he’s trying to keep himself from grinding right back into me.

Then…I rock against him, just like I rocked against the pillow last night.. His jaw tightens, his knuckles going white where he grips the platform beside my head, every inch of him locked down, straining, fighting for control. I can't stop; I'm moving, whimpering, oh god I'm?—

I come against him, right there on the deck. And when I open my eyes again, he's watching the orgasm play out across my face.

"You’re mine, omega."

His voice is a rasp, a growl, a promise.

"And no one else can claim you."

I don’t hesitate.

"Yes, my alpha."

The words spill out before I can stop them, before I even know I mean them.

"I’m yours."

Something shatters in the air around us.

The other alphas fall silent.

I barely register it.

All I can feel is him—his weight, his heat, the way his scent sinks deeper into my skin with every passing second.

The rain starts to fall again, slow at first, then steadily harder, soaking into my hair, dripping down my bare shoulders.

The eye of the storm is moving past us.

And soon, we’ll need to get inside.

But not yet.

Not while he’s still above me, his whole massive body tense, like he’s holding back the inevitable.

Not while I’m clutching him closer, locking my legs around him, pressing up into the solid, unyielding heat of him.

Not while I’m half-convinced that Javi is going to take me right here on the platform, in front of everyone, hurricane be damned.

Because he could.

He should.

My body wants him to.

But he doesn’t.

He stays still as stone, his brow furrowing, his eyes squeezing shut like he’s in pain, like he’s at war with himself, like he’s one breath away from losing whatever control he has left.

The bite still pulses and burns, sending sharp licks of pleasure through my veins, the craving curling deeper, hotter, sharper.

I want his blood on my tongue.

I want to mark him back.

I want to claim him just as much as he’s claimed me.

I hear a murmur of voices, then the alphas part as their Prime walks through.

I only risk a single glance at him before averting my eyes in shame, but I realize he looks horribly angry.

His fists clench at his sides as Javi gets to his feet, standing over me like I’m his prize, fully naked and god just… huge, even compared to the Prime.

“What the hell are you playin’ at, sailor?” Gideon asks, his voice full of menace. “First you come to my house and now you break my rules.”