Chapter 28 #3
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I hiss, my eyes widening as heat floods my cheeks. The thought that I’ve been neglecting one of my alphas sends a wave of guilt through me, quickly followed by something else… anticipation.
“I am.” His smile is all predator, his eyes darkening. The way he’s looking at me makes me clench involuntarily.
“I mean earlier!” I snap, suddenly hyper-aware of the way his thigh presses against mine. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m juggling dicks now, and it’s hard to keep track of whose turn it is...”
My voice trails off as Tristan leans closer, his breath fanning against my ear. The library suddenly feels too warm, too small.
“I’ve noticed,” he says softly, his voice deep. His hand slides from the keyboard to rest on my knee. “I’ve been counting every moan and every whimper you’ve given them.”
My breath catches as his fingers inch higher, just barely skimming beneath the hem of my dress. “I’m not mad... just letting you know.” His eyes meet mine. “So I guess... whenever you can pencil me in.”
The casual way he says it belies the intensity in the way he’s looking at me.
My body responds instantly. My nipples go tight, and there’s a telltale slickness gathering between my legs.
I shift in my seat. A wicked and thrilling idea begins to form.
A therapist would probably tell me I’m trying to run from my problems. I glance around; we’re still alone in our little nook, hidden from view.
“I’m a little cold,” I say, my voice deliberately innocent. “Can I borrow your jacket?”
Tristan raises an eyebrow but shrugs out of his dark blazer, handing it over. I drape it over my bare legs, the material still warm from his body. Then I move, shifting onto his lap.
“You okay?” I ask, noticing his face twist slightly. Fuck, I forgot his bruises. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Instead of answering, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer, nestling me against him. “What are you doing?”
“Warming myself up.” I wiggle slightly, feeling him harden beneath me.
“Bianca,” he warns as I grind down against him.
“Yes, Tristan?”
He grunts, the sound vibrating into my back. “Be still, or I’ll fuck you right here in the library.”
I grin and do it again. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
The next thing I know, he’s pushing me forward just enough to reach between us, yanking down his zipper. The hot, hard length of him presses against me, separated only by the thin cotton of my underwear.
“God, you’re impossible,” he mutters as he snakes his hand down between us, yanking my underwear to the side. The sudden contact of his hot cock against my bare skin makes me gasp. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks, his voice rough with need.
“Mmhm.” I can’t manage more than that. I make tiny movements against him, teasing us both. It’s maddening, exquisite torture, but it’s not enough.
“This is so fucking hot. I need to feel you,” he breathes into my hair.
I reach between us, adjusting our position so he’s right at my entrance.
But instead of sinking down on him, I let just the head of his cock press inside before lifting myself off.
I repeat the motion, taking him in just a little more each time until we’re both panting.
He growls into my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.
“Quit toying with me and sink your hot little pussy all the way down.” I almost laugh. The king of playing games can’t handle being played with. The desperation in his voice could undo me. I like Tristan needy. I like him begging.
When I finally sink down on him in one smooth motion, the moan he lets out is so raw that it feels like a victory.
“Fuuuuck,” he grinds out, but then he goes perfectly still beneath me. “Now let’s get back to work.”
I blink in surprise, but then I remember we did come here for a reason. The juxtaposition of his cock buried deep inside me while we casually research is so absurdly hot that I have to bite my lip to keep from whimpering.
“Okay,” I say, trying to get my brain to function. “Montgomery. We need to know who he is—family, siblings, anything.”
We spend about twenty minutes looking up articles on Isabelle Clyne, with his cock tucked inside me the entire time.
She was a very popular model who was bonded to an alpha that died in a car accident the same year Whitney was born.
Every so often, I shift to feel him pulse inside me.
Isabelle suffered a mental collapse after her mate’s death, but the details are frustratingly vague.
Did she move on that quickly with Dr. Montgomery?
It seems unlikely. I begin to wonder if he was involved in her care and that’s how they met.
I bounce experimentally on his cock and feel it strain eagerly inside me. This is the most fun I’ve ever had in a library. I turn my head to capture his lips in a kiss. “Stretch me out with your knot, Alpha,” I whisper against his mouth, feeling him shudder at the title.
“Fucking hell.” His control finally snaps.
His hands grip my hips hard as he guides me up and down on his length.
I feel his knot beginning to swell, catching at my entrance with each downward thrust until finally, with a particularly forceful movement, it pops through.
I let out a quiet whine as he starts rubbing my clit mercilessly, his fingers knowing exactly how to touch me.
All the teasing has me worked up and already there within seconds. “I’m gonna come, Tris,” I gasp, my inner walls clenching around him.
“That’s my girl,” he encourages, his voice strained. “Come all over my knot. Show me how much you love being filled by me.”
The orgasm hits me hard, leaving me trembling and clinging to his arms. He buries his face in my hair to muffle his own sounds as he fills me with his release, his knot locking us together. “Mmm, you feel so good.” I relax into his chest gently.
His fingers toy mindlessly with my clit, playing in the wetness where our bodies meet. The overstimulation makes me whimper, but I don’t want him to stop. “Have I told you lately how perfect you are?”
It doesn’t take long for me to come again, my body so responsive to his touch. I feel his cock pulse and release another warm gush deep in my core.
“I wanna do this again, so don’t tell Dad,” I laugh, and so does he. “First, we’ll get the lecture. And then we’ll get grounded.”
“He’s kinda gonna know when you come home dripping, don’t you think?” Tristan points out, his hand possessively cupping me.
“I’ll try to sneak into the shower first.”
“I don’t like the idea of you washing me away so soon,” he says, his tone light but with an undercurrent that makes my heart race. “But if it means we can do this again, I’ll allow it. Let’s finish up here while my knot goes down before they send out the search party.”
We spend the next thirty minutes looking up everything we can find on Dr. Montgomery. His work, his family, his history. Tristan follows some digital rabbit trails, clicking through archives and databases with ease. He finds some old photos of Dr. Montgomery as a teenager.
And then we come across one from a news article, where his parents talk about how proud they are of him for his accomplishments.
Tristan and I both inhale sharply, and neither of us release it.
My body is completely rigid, Tristan still locked inside me. The sensation that was blissful moments ago now feels like a physical manifestation of how thoroughly messed up we all are.
“Um. What in the fuck? She looks like––” Tristan finally voices what we’re both thinking, his arms tightening around me.
I can’t speak or move or breathe. My mind is racing through implications too horrible to fully comprehend.
Why do I look exactly like Dr. Montgomery’s mother?
The warmth of Tristan inside me now feels like a lifeline to reality as my world tilts on its axis. His knot, still firmly locked inside me, keeps me grounded when I might otherwise float away on a tide of panic and confusion.
I stare at the screen, unblinking, at the woman with my face and feel the last fragments of my identity crumbling away.
Book three available here….