The Alpha CEO’s Unloved Wife

Lovers 

She woke to the sound of his voice, her body aching because he had left the bed. Afternoon again, she thought, by the light. The frequent, brief sleeps in between f-king disorientated her, and for a moment, she wondered what day it was, before deciding that it was Friday. 

He was in the sitting room, on his phone. He laughed. “No, I don’t know an alpha who would complain about their mate having two heats close together, though it is a strain on my scheduling, and I apologise for cancelling again… The removal of a contraceptive implant triggered another heat due to the change of hormones. Apparently, it happens on occasion… Ah, of course… Yes, I would say we could schedule it for then. Thank you.”

He disconnected the call, but he did not return to the bed.

She rose, pulling on her robe, and crossed to the sitting room. He was on her laptop, and she felt a flutter of fear as she wondered if she had closed down her course material, or just shut the laptop, after it’s last use. She was falling behind on her course, she thought grimly, and would have to study hard over the weekend in order to catch up.

He looked up and smiled. “I will just be a moment,” he returned to what he was doing. “I just need to update my schedule and send some information through to Judith.” Judith must be, she decided, a personal assistant or receptionist of some type. “All done,” he pressed a button, and then closed the laptop, but remained seated, frowning.

“Is everything okay?” She was nervous and wanted her laptop as far from him as possible.

“Yes,” his expression cleared, and he set the laptop down on the coffee table, rising. “I don’t see that picture of your mother anywhere,” he observed as he reached her. “I would have thought that it would be framed and on display.”

“I keep it somewhere safe,” she said. In the hollowed book with her money, tucked away in the little stack of books that occupied a shelf in the closet.

“Your bedroom isn’t

swallowed but then lifted her eyes

reached out and cupped her cheek. “I will ensure that Angelique knows not to enter this room for any reason. I would change your rooms, but it would

She did not want the room, anyway. She did not want to sleep in the bed

eyes searched hers for a long moment and

something wrong, Baron?” The craving for his body was crawling through her more insistently, but the fear lingered, and his frowns concerned her, that perhaps he had seen something on

the belt of her robe, peeling back the satin and stroking his hand down to her breast, teasing the nipple beneath the pad of his

point of her throat, such an ordinary thing to do, the sort of thing that humans did, that mates did, in a normal relationship, watch TV together. He released her and returned to the sitting room in order to move the furniture to where

her down onto it, onto her hands and knees, pressing kisses up the knobs of her spine, his hands stroking and

through the trees, until your heart races with prey response, and then I will f-k your sweet little wolf in the undergrowth, until we tie. It is what your body is craving now,” he said. “It knows that, inside, you are a

her. “Sorry,” he said ruefully. “Just the thought finished me.” He wrapped his arm around her and stroked her clitoris, pushing her into her orgasm, and groaned as

utterly unrealistic predicaments of the werewolf on the TV, she smiled, enchanted. His eyes when he looked down at her were bright,

over his jaw, through the cleft in his chin, down the line of his throat. She followed the ridge of collar

stomach exactly measured to her fingertip. At his waist, a v of muscle tempted her to trace it to it’s