He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother

Ch. He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 98 He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 98

Chapter 98

Carvila’s POV Po

I’m not opening anything! This is completely inappropriate, Roman!”

I tried to sound indignant, but it was difficult to concentrate with him standing there looking like temeration wrapped in an expensive suit. My brain had apparently decided to take the evening off, leaving me to deal with the consequences.

Roman’s mouth curved. “Then we’ll go to my apartment.”

“That’s not what I—”

I never finished. He bent, swept me over his shoulder, and straightened as though I weighed no more than a handbag.

“Alpha Roman Blackwell! Put me down!” I pounded his back, mortified by his audacity. He merely adjusted his grip and strode toward the staircase. The elevator had already descended, and apparently, waiting for it to return was beneath the dignity of an Alpha who had decided to abduct a woman who lived down the hall.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” I demanded.

“Possibly.” His maddeningly calm response made me want to scream. He carried me up the stairs without showing the slightest sign of strain. By the time we reached his floor, I was too busy plotting his murder to appreciate the display of Alpha strength.

He unlocked his apartment, carried me inside, and finally deposited me on the couch.

I drew breath to give him a piece of my mind. He kissed me instead.

Every angry word disappeared. His mouth claimed mine with the same fierce urgency as before, and whatever distance I’d been determined to maintain collapsed beneath the force of our chemistry.

His wolf seemed to recognize something in me that made his restraint tremble, while my own senses betrayed me, acutely aware of his warmth, his scent, and the solid strength of his body.

I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, yet my head felt pleasantly unsteady.

At some point, my arms had wound around his neck. I couldn’t remember deciding to do it. I only knew that when Roman drew me closer, I didn’t want him to stop. His hands settled at my waist and moved over my back

sending little sparks of sensation through me. My body relaxed against him, and I sank deeper into the couch, grateful that I didn’t have to trust my suddenly unreliable knees.

Oh.

I was starting to understand why people lost their heads over a good kiss. Roman made it dangerously easy to forget that he was arrogant, infuriating, and far too pleased with himself. The way he held me, the heat of his mouth, the intensity in his eyes–it all left me craving another kiss before I’d even recovered from the last. And somehow, wanting him closer was becoming much harder to resist than pushing him away.

Then, just as I was beginning to forget every sensible reason I had for resisting him, Roman pulled away. His breathing was uneven, and the tension in his body made it obvious that he was struggling with his own desire. Yet he put a little distance between us.

“Camila,” he said, his voice rougher than before, “I’m not going to take this any further if you don’t want me to. We can stop here.”

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I blinked at him. “What?”

He held my gaze. “If you’re not comfortable with this, say so.”

I stared at him, eompletely baffled. He had carried me into his apartment, kissed me until I could barely remember my own name, and now he was asking permission to continue? Was he serious?

My cheeks burned as I straightened my dress. “Are you sure?” I asked.

Roman gave a small, humorless shrug. “Not particularly. That’s why I’m asking. I don’t want you waking up tomorrow and deciding I took advantage of you.”

For one brief moment, I had no idea what to say. Then irritation overtook my embarrassment. He had worked me into this state, and now he was leaving the decision entirely in my hands?

Fine. I reached for my heels on the floor and started to rise.

“That’s all right, then. We can forget the whole thing. I’ll just go home.”

I hadn’t even managed to stand when Roman’s arms came around me from behind. “Wait.” I froze. His hold was firm but not painful. When he spoke again, the teasing had disappeared from his voice.

“Don’t go.”

I turned my head slightly. “I thought you wanted me to decide.”

“I do.”

“Then why are you stopping me?”

He fell silent for a moment. I could practically feel his frustration. The Alpha who could command an entire pack seemed to have no idea what to do with a woman who had just decided to walk away from him.

Perhaps he’d expected me to admit that I wanted him, toq. Perhaps he’d hoped I would pull him back instead of reaching for my shoes.

Whatever he’d expected, my attempt to leave had clearly unsettled him.

I turned fully toward him. I lifted my chin, refusing to let my own embarrassment defeat me. “Stop hesitating. Do you want me to take this dress off myself, or are you going to help me?”

For one suspended second, he simply stared at me. Then the change in his expression was unmistakable. Surprise gave way to a dark, almost disbelieving intensity, and the low rumble in his chest returned.

“Let me help,” he murmured. His hand moved to the fabric of my dress. A sharp rip cut through the room. I felt the zipper give way with a final, useless protest before the fabric tore. The sound was loud in the quiet room- a long, irreversible rip that sent the dress sliding off my body in ruined pieces. I stared at the shredded silk pooled around my feet and almost cried.

“That was a limited edition by Asabella,” I whispered, voice tight.

Roman’s gaze flicked over the destroyed dress, then back to me. His apology was soft, almost careless. “Oops. Got a little carried away. I’ll get her a new one.”

He stepped closer. The air between us thickened, heavy with his scent–warm, wild, and unmistakably him. My wolf stirred under my skin, restless and hungry. Roman’s hands settled on my waist, the tips of his claws just barely restrained against my bare skin. He leaned in and inhaled deeply against the side of my throat, a low, rough sound vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck, you smell like caramel,” he murmured, the words more growl than speech. “Sweet. Ready for me.” His mouth found the place where my pulse hammered. He kissed it first, slow and deliberate, then scraped his

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teeth lightly over the sensitive skin.

“Roman-”

“Sh.” His voice dropped lower. “Let me taste you.” His hands slid upward, palms hot against my ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. He cupped them fully, squeezing with just enough pressure to make me gasp, then lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth.

The wet heat of his tongue made my knees buckle. He sucked hard, then gentler, alternating until the beak was tight and aching. His free hand rolled the other nipple between his fingers, pinching just shy of pa

“Look at these,” he rasped against my skin. “So fucking responsive. Already tight for me, aren’t you?”

I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in as a soft, helpless sound slipped out of me. Roman answered with a deeper growl that rumbled against my chest. “That’s it. Make those sounds for me.”

He guided me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed. I sank down. He followed, kneeling between my spread thighs, and pushed them wider with firm hands. His eyes were darker now, gold flickering at the edges. “Spread for me, Camila. Wider.”

I did. He leaned in and dragged his tongue up the inside of one thigh, then the other, never quite reaching where I needed him most. The scent of my own arousal mixed with his, thick and undeniable.