Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Bea
Moonlight glistens on the well-worn stones of the battlements as I slip in and out of shadows, avoiding guards on patrol to make my way to the topmost tower. Here I pause, beset by nerves.
Abel.
The alpha of my dreams.
I made casual inquiries as to where he would be stationed tonight.
Sometimes he patrols during the day, covering the vast lands of the Wittner Estate.
But he also takes his turn on the nightwatch of the battlements that protect the familial home and the many outbuildings, which include the barracks, stores, stables, bakehouse, blacksmith, leatherworkers, and such.
Although most of the house servants have accommodation inside the main residence, there is a small community of cottages for the supporting workers.
My father is the stable master, and we moved here three years ago after the position became vacant.
Still, it is neither the cozy cottages nor the beautiful inner keep that draws my attention tonight.
This tower has a special place in my heart—there is history between us here.
If I close my eyes, I can still summon every detail of that night two years ago: the bite of the stone, the heat of him, the moment everything I thought I understood about myself came sweetly undone.
I have turned the memory over so many times I fear I will wear it smooth.
And beneath it, the question: did it mean as much to him?
But that is a dangerous path to wander, and tonight is not for old wounds that lingered from the time before we came here, when we still lived in the village.
I thought I knew what love was then, but that lad’s rejection cut deep.
After, I was grateful we were moving. In time, I understood it was nothing but a young lass's fascination, not the higher call of love.
Time to make a new memory. One that makes it worth venturing out alone on this cool autumn night.
He is waiting for me.
I can sense it, just beyond this stone wall, only a few steps away.
A deep breath, and I step out.
“Got you!” A big hand clamps over my mouth and an arm snatches around my waist. There is a large, solid body behind me that provides an instant wall of heat.
I whimper into his palm. His hands are calloused from handling weapons. He is an Imperium guard, and he has just caught me sneaking around his battlements like a thief in the night.
A rough beard scratches against the side of my throat, and his voice when he next speaks is low and gruff. “What do we have here? A wench up to mischief,” he says ominously, tightening his hold. “Going places she shouldn’t be.”
The hand at my waist moves upward, slow and purposeful. My breath hitches as he boldly cups my right breast and squeezes with proprietary intent. “Well, these are a nice handful, aren’t they? What have you got to say for yourself, lass?”
I can’t say anything for he still has one hand clamped over my mouth, but I believe his question is rhetorical.
Oh, I could give him excuses as to why I am here.
Say how heavenly the moonlit forests look from this vantage…
That I only wanted to take in the pretty view.
But the delectable masculine scent that tickles my nose would make a liar of me.
Alpha.
Even to a sensible beta lass, his mere presence stirs carnal longings. Ones that make me forget all decorum… all restraint… all pretense of being sensible at all.
He pinches my nipple through my dress, and then keeps it clamped, making it throb with fierce pleasure—I cannot hold back my moan.
“Aye, that’s what I thought,” he says darkly. “There’s only one reason why a lass would come up here.” His voice lowers to a growl. “And it’s not to gaze at the stars… I have the arduous task, it would seem, of teaching this naughty young miss who ventured where she shouldn’t a firm lesson.”
He grinds his hard cock against my ass, confirming exactly what kind of lesson he has in mind. Heat pools low in my belly, fast and urgent. That I am here tonight is no accident. I know exactly where I am in my monthly cycle.
Ready to be bred.
I’m a woman with breeding on her mind, and this rough guard is the perfect beast to get the job done.
His chuckle is pure masculine satisfaction as he tugs my bodice down so he can cup my naked breast. He fondles it, the strokes almost teasing—for such a big, coarse man, his ability to flip between roughness and gentleness is disarming to the senses.
“These tits are a test of a man’s restraint. Begging for attention.”
He releases my breast, letting cool air replace his warm hand, and snags my scarf from around my neck. “This will do nicely as a gag. Wouldn’t want to rouse the curiosity of the other guardsmen now, would we? I can already tell you’re a saucy one, and likely a screamer when you’re being plowed.”
I struggle and grunt, making a show of resistance.
The truth? I love how easily he masters me, how I am a small, easily subdued toy, how I have stepped into his world where he might do anything with me he chooses.
“There,” he says when he has secured my gag in place. “That’ll keep you quiet… no matter what I do.”
Then his hands are back on my breasts, cupping both in his big hands. He squeezes, rolls, and plucks my nipples before starting the process all over. I whimper behind my gag while he rumbles filthy grunts and growls that make my pussy weep, and my core clench in anticipation of the stretch to come.
In a sudden move, I am thrust forward, my waist catching where the battlement dips—bending me over and leaving me vulnerable to anything he might do.
He kicks my feet apart and uses his pelvis to pin me to the rough stone wall.
His hands land on my hips; he squeezes through the material of my dress.
“Aye, this ass is nice, too. Soft all over.”
I push back.
A firm hand to the center of my back sees me pinned securely again.
He chuckles, like my resistance only amuses him. “Got a bit of fire. I like that. Go ahead and struggle all you want. Won’t make any difference.” He tugs on my skirts, working them between our pressed bodies.
“Hmm,” he says once they are fully out of the way. “These are pretty panties, aren’t they? Shame I’m going to have to rip them.”
A tearing sound follows, and cool air tickles the skin of my ass.
I hear a gusty inhale followed by a low rumbly purr that sets my pussy sparking anew.
A peek over my shoulder between the curtain of my dark hair reveals he has brought my torn panties to his nose and is inhaling my scent.
Eyes at half-mast, he stares boldly back at me, taking his time to inhale deeply again.
The action is uncouth, uncivilized, and maybe a little primitive.
Animalistic. And I suppose he is all of that and more.
They say alphas are the distant descendants of shifters, a pack that became isolated and, over time, stopped shifting altogether.
The betas became indistinguishable from ordinary men.
The alphas and omegas retained many characteristics.
Scent markers, heightened senses… dominance and mating drive in the males, and of course the alpha knot.
His rumbly purr stops abruptly.
“Somebody has gone for a wander in their head,” he says with dark amusement.
Oops!
He squeezes my naked ass. “Now that’s a fine sight,” he says lowly. “I can smell your cunt from here. Dripping. Good job it’s a quiet night. An alpha doesn’t like anything coming between him and his food.”
I go perfectly still.
And then a clatter follows as he drops to his knees and his sword scrapes the flagstones.
He makes a tutting noise. “What a perfect, filthy girl,” he rumbles.
My core clenches tightly. I’m so wet I ought to be embarrassed. I’m almost dizzy with need.
His big, broad hands cup my ass cheeks, pulling me up and apart. My breasts scrape against the cold stone battlement, and I could not care.
He makes a deep, rumbly, approving purr. And then with what might be a low muttered curse or a prayer, he takes a long lick, his broad tongue sweeping all the way up to catch my clit before delving deep into my core.
I jolt.
He tightens his hold. Pinning me absolutely still. And I love that. I love how he holds me securely as he feeds noisily upon my pussy, the sounds deep, growly, and full of masculine satisfaction.
The shamefulness of being held open like this—where another guard might pass at any moment—being used by this alpha who takes his pleasure in my body’s offering makes me giddy with need.
Every lap of his tongue is a divine form of torment that sends my body lurching toward the pinnacle of pleasure with devastating ease.
Whether I enjoy it is of little consequence to him. And that makes it impossibly better.
Almost like he senses I am close, his lips seek my clit. The move pushes me even further forward until I’m balanced precariously, dangling, held from plunging to the rocks below by his steady hands alone.
The prospect of a rocky death barely registers. All I care about is the feeling of his lips suckling gently upon my clit, the surge of sensations as it swells under his attention, and all the little nerves zinging to life.
He wants me to come. Not because he cares about my pleasure, for this rough guard does not. No, my pleasure is coincidental to the slickness that will flow when I peak. All the better for his feasting upon my most intimate place.
He latches and sucks sharply. My eyes cross. My pussy spasms. I cry out behind my gag. Sweet climactic waves engulf my core, and my pussy pushes out a river for his waiting tongue that he stuffs deep into me.
He growls. His nose is right up against my clit as he eats me out. I twitch. It’s too much. Why doesn’t he fill me already? I couldn’t get any wetter if I tried. Even his alpha cock will assuredly fit with ease.
But he doesn’t stop, does he? No, because he’s an alpha and he does whatever he wants.
Fingers so tight against my flesh they will surely leave bruises, he goes back to my clit, lashing it with his tongue before flicking it from side to side.
I groan helplessly. My body is caught in some sort of sensual storm, one that barely releases me from one climax only to slam me back again.
The second climax leaves me gibbering nonsense behind my gag.
I go as tight as a drum before the waves cut me loose and limp.
There is naught but wool between my ears.
A dreamy sensation settles over me. I feel like I’m floating in the sky.
I barely rouse when he rises behind me.
Fingers spear my hair, grip and tug my head back. He brushes his knuckles almost tenderly over my cheek. “Aye, blissed out already. It’s for the best.”
He keeps his fingers in my hair, using it as a leash. Twisting my head a little to the side so he can see my face—the better to watch my reactions, I’m sure.
“Feeding on your slick cunt has got me harder than this stone wall.” His fingers make a trail down my back. Over my ass. He uses his boots to spread my legs wider still and then slides his fingertips between my slick folds before pushing two fingers inside me.
I arch up. The sudden penetration rouses me from my heightened state.
“There we go,” he says. “It’s gonna be a tight fit.” He pumps his fingers wetly in and out. The sticky sounds only arouse me more.
“Your scent is all over me now,” he says as he continues to finger me, plunging roughly in and out like he’s offering a demonstration of what is to come. “And I know that scent.” His lips lower to my throat as he leans in and nips lightly. “Somebody’s fertile. Somebody came up here to be bred.”
I moan behind my gag.
“Aye. We both know it’s true. There’s only one way to breed a beta lass.” He pauses. His fingers thrust deeply inside me. “I’ll need to get my knot all the way in here.”
He slides a third finger in and slowly rotates his hand.
The stretch is alarming. Blissful. Everything all at once. The little nerves inside me are throbbing and pulsing. “Pwwweeeeeessseee,” I mumble around the gag.
“What was that?” he says. “Can’t quite hear what you said. Is that a please stop? Or please fuck me? Please work your fat alpha knot all the way inside? Please breed this tight beta pussy?”
He doesn’t deign to release the gag and check.
We are both already too far gone. We both know that I came up here for this.
That I never, ever want him to stop.
After all, this is not the first time we have played this game.