Mated by Contract to the Alpha Chapter 73

Rebecca's POV

Something in me snapped. All the insecurity and doubt that had been building since Elizabeth's visit boiled over, and I found myself pushing back against his chest. My palms met the solid warmth of him through his shirt.

"Temporarily, right?" I challenged, my voice sharper than intended, cracking slightly on the last word. "Just until you become Alpha and need to find a proper werewolf mate who's worthy of you?"

Dominic froze, his expression shifting from possessive to shocked. "Is that what you think?" His eyes searched mine, all traces of the wolf momentarily receding.

"Isn't that what our contract stipulates?" My voice rose, hands trembling against his chest. "I stay with you until you take over as Alpha. Then what, Dominic? What happens to me then?" My breath came in short, shallow gasps.

For a moment, Dominic said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a small smile, his eyes warming. "You're jealous too, little doe."

The nickname, spoken with such affection, caught me off guard. My cheeks flushed with heat. "That's not the point." I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

He stepped forward again, but this time his approach was different—less predatory, more tender. His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing gently across my skin. I couldn't help leaning into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed momentarily.

"Tonight," he murmured, "don't think about the future. Don't think about Elizabeth or contracts or what might happen." His forehead touched mine, our breaths mingling. I could smell the wine on his breath, mixed with his unique scent. "I've missed you."

Before I could argue further, his lips claimed mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened with hunger. Despite my lingering doubts, my body responded instantly, arms wrapping around his neck as I pressed against him. He growled his approval, the sound vibrating through his chest against mine. His hands slid down to my hips, fingers digging in possessively.

In one fluid motion, he lifted me, my dress riding up as my legs wrapped around his waist. I gasped at the sudden movement, clinging to his shoulders. Our kisses grew more desperate with each step toward the bedroom, teeth clashing, breathing ragged.

He laid me on the bed with surprising gentleness, then reached into the nightstand drawer, retrieving a black silk ribbon and what looked like a soft feather. His eyes, now more blue than their usual shade, held mine as he displayed them. My pulse raced, a flush spreading across my skin.

"For questioning your Alpha's intentions," he said, voice playful yet commanding, "you deserve a punishment." The word "punishment" made my stomach flip with anticipation.

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My heart raced, breath catching in my throat. "And what might that be?" My voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"Hands above your head," he instructed softly. He stood at the edge of the bed, slowly removing his jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves, revealing strong forearms. The deliberate pace of his movements made my skin tingle with anticipation.

I hesitated only briefly before complying, stretching my arms toward the headboard. The position made me feel vulnerable, exposed. With careful precision, he bound my wrists with the ribbon, securing them to the bedpost. The silk was cool against my flushed skin, the restraint loose enough to be comfortable yet secure enough that I couldn't easily free myself.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his dominant demeanor momentarily giving way to genuine concern. His fingertips traced the inside of my wrist, feeling my racing pulse.

I nodded, touched by his consideration even in this moment of control. "Yes." My voice sounded husky, foreign to my own ears.

His smile returned, predatory and pleased. "Good girl." The praise sent an unexpected thrill through me.

He began by carefully removing my shoes, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Then he retrieved the feather, sitting beside me on the bed. "Close your eyes," he instructed. I complied, my other senses immediately heightening.

The first touch of the feather against my collarbone made me gasp. He traced it slowly along my skin, following the neckline of my dress, then down my arm. The sensation was so light it almost tickled, raising goosebumps in its wake. I squirmed slightly, pulling against the restraints.

"Be still," Dominic commanded softly. His free hand rested on my hip, holding me in place. The contrast between the feather's gentle touch and his firm grip created a delicious tension.

I heard him move away briefly, then return to the bed. Something cold pressed against my neck, making me jerk in surprise. Ice. The cube slid down my throat, leaving a trail of cold moisture that quickly warmed against my flushed skin. I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

"Open your eyes," he said. "I want to see you."

I obeyed, finding him watching me with heated intensity. He held another ice cube between his fingers, bringing it to my lips. I parted them instinctively, and he traced the outline of my mouth with the melting ice before slipping it inside. The cold sensation against my tongue contrasted sharply with the heat building within me.

"Your dress," he said, "is in the way." His fingers found the zipper at my back, slowly pulling it down. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He peeled the fabric away, exposing my skin inch by inch to the cool air. Once the dress was removed, his eyes traveled over my body, clad now only in matching black underwear.

The feather returned, this time tracing along the edge of my bra, dipping beneath the fabric to tease the sensitive skin beneath. My breathing quickened, chest rising and falling rapidly. When the feather traced along my ribs, I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me.

"Ticklish?" Dominic asked, a smile in his voice. Before I could answer, he replaced the feather with his mouth, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the same path the feather had taken. The sudden change from tickling to pleasure made me gasp, arching up against him.

He alternated between the feather, ice, and his mouth, creating a symphony of sensations that left me breathless and trembling. When he removed my underwear, the feather traced along the insides of my thighs, making me squirm and pull against the restraints. The ice followed, cold trails that made my muscles tense and release.

"Dominic," I breathed, my voice pleading. My skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive and responsive to his touch.

"Patience," he murmured against my hip bone. "We're just getting started." His breath was hot against my cool, damp skin.

He retrieved another ice cube, placing it in his mouth before kissing a trail up my inner thigh. The dual sensation of his hot mouth and the cold ice was overwhelming. I cried out, unable to contain the sound as he moved higher.

"No one," he murmured between kisses, "could ever replace you." The words were punctuated by a gentle nip that made me cry out. "No one else smells like you." Another kiss, higher. "Tastes like you." Higher still. "Responds to me like you do."

My body tensed, back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through me. I pulled against the restraints, desperate to touch him, to ground myself. My vision blurred, his name falling from my lips over and over.

As I lay catching my breath, he untied my hands, massaging my wrists gently before gathering me against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath my ear, his arms secure around me. My limbs felt heavy, boneless, as the tension drained from my body.

"I will not make Elizabeth my mate," he said into the darkness, his voice quiet but firm. His fingers traced patterns on my bare shoulder. "That is not negotiable."

It wasn't a declaration of eternal love. It wasn't even a promise that he would choose me in the end. But for tonight, it was enough. I curled closer into his warmth, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull me toward sleep, pushing thoughts of the future away for another day.

In the moments before consciousness slipped away, I felt his lips press against my forehead, and his voice, so soft I might have imagined it: "You are not temporary, little doe. Not to me."