When He's an Alpha (The Olympus Pride 2)

Her heart pounding, Havana raced into the nearest room—the kitchen. Need so raw and carnal beat in her blood, but so did the drive to test him. It felt more intense, more primal … as if the mating urge had somehow magnified it.

A hand gripped her arm and spun her around. Tate slammed her against the fridge, sending the breath gushing out of her lungs.

He crushed her body with his own and snarled. “Mine.” He bit into the crook of her neck. Hard.

Havana shoved and kicked at him, wild and relentless. Her devil urged her on, determined that he prove himself worthy of her surrender. So Havana kept on fighting him, but she might as well have been tickling him for all the good it did.

He paid no attention to her struggles. He just kept her caged there with his body, his cock throbbing against her abdomen, his teeth firmly in her neck, his breath hot on her skin—making it clear who was in charge. Or who he believed was in charge.

She let out an indignant hiss. “Get your teeth out of my skin,” she gritted out.

Instead, he boldly sank them deeper, drawing blood.

She intensified her struggles ten-fold. She cursed him, cursed his cock, cursed his teeth, everything. But he paid no heed to it. Paid no heed to her. “You goddamn—” She stilled with a shocked gasp as one blunt finger plunged deep inside her. “Fuck.”

“Oh, we will,” he said, lapping at the fresh bite. “But not yet.”

She opened her mouth to curse him yet again, but then his hand began to move; the heel of his palm rubbed against her clit with each thrust of his finger. “Oh, God.”

“That’s it, babe, let me have my way with this pussy.”

Oh, it was tempting. Really tempting. Because his hands were freaking magic, and they knew her well. Knew how to make her so frantic and desperate she lost the will to battle him.

Havana gave herself a mental slap when she realized she was trying to ride his hand. She couldn’t give in so easily, no matter how good it felt. Couldn’t. But since he had a finger buried inside her, she also couldn’t exactly scamper.

He put his mouth to her ear. “Can you hear how wet you are? I can. I’m not sure what I love more. That I can hear it, or that I can feel all that slickness around my finger.”

Sensing an opportunity, she lifted a brow and asked, “Don’t you want to taste it?”

He stilled. “Hmm, yes, I do.” He withdrew his finger, brought it to his mouth, and sucked it clean. And she used that moment to escape.

Tate swore as she shoved him backwards and made a run for it. Oh no, he wasn’t having that. He didn’t let the tricky little minx get far—he quickly grabbed her and then roughly bent her over the dining table. “I’m not done playing yet.”

He kept her pinned in place with his hand on her nape, but that didn’t stop his mate from fighting his hold. He skimmed two fingertips between her slick folds. “Now, one of two things can happen. I can finger-fuck you hard and rough, just how you like it. Or I can keep the thrusts real nice and slow. If you want to choose door number one, be. Fucking. Still.”

She hissed long and loud and furious, but she ceased fighting him. It wasn’t a full surrender, though. No, there was still a lot of defiance bunching each muscle of her body. But it was progress.

“Very good,” he said. “Now you get what you want.” He drove two fingers deep into her pussy, and then he did exactly what he’d said he’d do—he took her hard and rough with his fingers, not stopping until she came all over his hand.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and then held them close to her face. “Look how soaking wet you are right now. Hmm, I think you should lick them clean for me.”

She twisted, swiped out, and slashed his chest with her claws deep enough to draw blood. He flinched back in sheer surprise. She took instant advantage of that and fled.

Growling, Tate was hot on her heels as she ran back to the living area. He looped an arm around her waist and hauled her against him. She sank her teeth deep into his arm. He grunted and kept his grip on her tight as he carried her into her bedroom, ignoring her kicks. He tugged on her hair, making her unlock her teeth from his arm with a gasp, and then he threw her on the bed.

She bounced onto her back and readied herself to lunge at him. He didn’t give her the chance. He covered her body with his own, pressing her into the mattress. She curled her limbs around him, but only so she could pound her fists and heels on him.