The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 286

Chapter 286 – Home as Fast as we Can

Ella

The minute Hank gave his assent, Sinclair was moving, gathering me up into his arms and striding for the clinic’s door. We drew quite a few eyes on our way out – a gigantic man carrying a little pregnant woman bodily out of the doctor’s office, and her laughing with glee all the way. But I didn’t care. I ignored them all, pressing myself close to Sinclair, eager for his warmth and his comfort and his love.

We don’t say a word to each other on the ride home. Instead, I stare out the car’s windshield with Sinclair’s hand grasped in my own, my breath coming in short pants. My mind wanders back and forth between the thoughts of my child and my pregnancy, and the thought of my mate –

–

My mate his hard–muscled body, which I’ve wanted for weeks but haven’t even dared to touch outside of the dream space, for fear of losing control. Of his mouth, hot on mine, of his thick, hard cock, pressing against me, slipping inside me and

cars with expert grace. “I can feel what you’re

”

dare, smirking at him, squeezing his hand hard. “Pull the car over, Dominic.” Then, I let his hand go and lean forward, slipping my hand onto

glancing a glare at me. “We didn’t come this far to die in a car

pressing my legs together against the steady ache that’s growing there. Then, I lean my head back and let my mind

rips through the

through it, me in his arms. I barely manage to shoot her an apologetic look before Sinclair heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He moves with an agile grace, faltering only when I lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He gives me

takes a moment to hold me close, lifting my face to his and kissing me deeply, as if never wanting to put me down. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, letting him feel my joy at being able to hold him again, to be with his body the way that

My eyelids drift low as I take in my mate, the rippling muscles of his pecs and abs, the broad shoulders and the tight, tapered waist. God damn it, but I want to run my tongue over every tortured inch

back on my elbows and pressing

carefully at his prey, deciding precisely how he wants to pounce. He grips his belt, tugging it loose in a single jerk and pushing the waist of his pants so that they fall to the floor, his shorts going with them. And then he’s standing naked before me, his proud

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