The Alpha CEO’s Unloved Wife

Broken 

On Tuesday morning, Jane woke beneath Baron, his body over and within her, as all their brief periods of sleep through-out her heat had been spent, and found that, in her sleep, she had put her arms around him, her palms against the skin of his back, holding him tightly to her, and her face was turned in to his, her cheek against his and her lips against the point at which shoulder met neck.

She stayed still, her eyes closed, luxuriating in the feel of him against her. This was, she thought, how lovers and mates lay, wrapped, and tangled in each out, skin to skin, body to body, cheek to cheek.

His phone began to chime, and after a moment he groaned, and reached out over her towards the bedside table without moving his body. She reached up and pulled it down to where he could reach it. 

"Thank you,” he said against her neck, before answering it. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr Western,” the woman on the other side of the phone apologised.

He sighed heavily. “Yes, Judith?”

“The paperwork on the purchase of the brewery has arrived and is ready for

signing, the jeweller has sent through an estimate on that piece you ordered, the Gleesons have asked to reschedule for tomorrow, the architect has plans on the extension ready for review, an invitation has arrived for a masquerade ball at the Adairs, and the bank called about the…”

pushed himself up. He rolled over onto his back. “I can come

Mr

disconnected and rolled to face Jane. “Your heat has broken,” he

“Yes,” she agreed.

her face for a long moment and then he nodded, and rolled away, out of the bed. He pulled on

the sheets against her

her blue bedroom, the window had been fitted with new glass and the bedroom cleaned, the bed remade with fresh sheets. She showered and viewed the contents of her closet with frustrated disgust. Plain Jane, she thought. She certainly dressed that way, every item seemed designed

black dress and heels, before catching up her bag. She would go shopping, she decided. It was not as if she had anything better to do with her day, anyway. In the weeks since marrying Baron, her days had become echoingly empty of activity and people. At least, whilst she had been on heat, she thought, she’d had Baron for company, but now, his return to work made the emptiness

street. She drove into the city and parked

she did not register as a serious shopper. Inevitably they would zero in on someone who arrived after her and

caught her eyes, not because it was something she would normally buy or wear, but because she could see Angelique in it. She set her shoulders, bit back on her teeth, and marched in, finding her size and took it through to the dressing

woman in the next store, a thick pile of clothing passing in and out, and a hanger already devoted either to purchases or rejects, Jane did not know, as she closed the curtains into her change

reflection at different angles, her hands stroking the dress down her thighs. It fit like a second skin, the sheer lace overlay intricately walking a line between underwear and evening wear, the

“Knowing that he has been in her bed for the last three