fate of the alpha - episode 3 Read Online Free PDF

cool wood. Then he stretched out next to her, leaning up on his elbow and placing one hand possessively on the table’s surface next to her head.
    “Do you want this?” he asked her.
    But she could tell from his eyes that he already knew exactly what she wanted. Her whole body burned for him. Steam rose from the wood of the table where her skin touched it. She was sure he could feel the desire crashing off her.
    She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth without begging.
    “Not just this,” he gestured to their bodies. “Do you want this?” he asked, placing his hand on her heart. “ Because it can’t be casual for me. And it won’t be easy for either of us.”
    Her heart stuttered. How could it be anything but casual for him? He was only in Tarker’s Hollow temporarily, to catch bad guys. He was basically a soldier, answering to an Order.
    But he didn’t look like he was trying to trick her. He looked... vulnerable. And somewhere deep inside she knew he was telling the truth.
    “Grace Kwan-Cortez, I will treasure you, protect you, comfort you and love you with all my heart, for all your life,” he said softly in his deep voice.
    Something sweet burst in her chest and she found herself crying. The tears slid out of the corners of her eyes.
    “No, darling, no, don’t be sad,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss the tears from her cheeks.
    “Please,” she breathed.
    “Yes, my angel?” he asked, looking into her eyes.
    Instead of answering she lifted her head to kiss him. He tasted like her tears.
    Instantly, her body hummed with life. Each hair on her head seemed to ache for Julian’s touch.
    He broke their kiss long enough to look up and wave a hand in the air.
    “ Sera ,” he said.
    An ornate old-fashioned padlock formed on the door.
    “ Hortus cresco ,” he murmured.
    The flowers in the framed nature plates on the walls around the table began to grow out of their frames and cover the floor with mossy vines and muted pastel flowers. They smelled like the potpourri sachets in Abuela’s sock drawer.
    It was incredible.
    He was incredible.
    “That’s better,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck and stroking her belly.
    She arched up to him in spite of herself. She wanted him more than anything, needed him to possess her.
    “Be still,” he said again. This time, the darkness in his voice told her he was losing control over his desire.
    Grace deliberately slowed her breathing and stared up at the ceiling. This was the room where she had watched the parking meter change dry, and tried to keep a straight face while questioning teenagers who were caught hitching rides on the fire truck. The mossy fingers of the magical flower vines had swiftly climbed the walls and reached toward the ceiling, but she knew very well that she was still at the police station, lying on the table.
    To her surprise, she was at peace with this realization. There was nowhere she had ever felt more herself than in this place. And it seemed right that the first time she would make love, really make love, that it would happen in her true home and not the rented flat on Elm Avenue.
    Julian’s lips brushed across her midriff, and all thought escaped her. She let out her breath in a ragged sigh and it took every fiber of her will not to lift her hips to him.
    He hooked his fingers around the elastic of her thong and pulled it off her in one smooth movement. His hands roamed her thighs, smoothing her bare flesh. He nuzzled her hips and she tried not to cry out. They had only begun, how could she already feel this despair that he would never be inside her.
    Grace could feel herself swelling in anticipation. When Julian slid a hand into her curls, she held her breath.
    “Ohhh,” he groaned when his finger dragged against her wet and swollen flesh.
    He buried his face in her neck again, kissing and biting at her wildly, without moving his hand.
    Grace closed her eyes and bit her lip until she tasted blood, willing herself not to