Chapter 77: Part of the pack

Auren's pov

My breath hitches in my throat as I look down, watching Alpha Dravik’s hand slide under the slit of my gown.

The touch of his warm fingers against my bare skin sparks heat that pools between my legs, making me completely forget about my fear earlier and the dancing I had been watching.

His tongue flicks over my ear, sending goosebumps over my body, his heavy scent of wood and forest rain filing my senses while his broad chest presses against my shoulder.

"Say yes," he whispers, his hand snaking up higher as if daring me to say no.

His hand moves between my trembling thighs until his knuckles brush against the thin lace of my panties. My legs tighten together in embarrassment at the wetness there.

He let out a low groan against my ear. “Auren…..don’t make me beg.”

I find myself nodding my head in silent, desperate submission to his touch. He mutters something to someone before he helps me up from my chair, his fingers wrapping around mine as he guides me away from the bright lanterns and into the surrounding woods.

"Are you enjoying your ceremony, my Luna?" he asks softly after we have covered a short distance, his hand holding mine as our feet crunch over the light layer of snow.

I pull back slightly, stopping in my tracks, which causes him to pause as well, his silver eyes turning to look at me in the dim moonlight.

"Don’t do that," I mutter.

"Don't do what?" he asks, tilting his head slightly as his brows pull together.

"Don't choose me over them. You... you worked so hard for this pack for years. You love this pack, don’t throw it away on me.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting my hand to his lips to press a kiss against my knuckles. "I’m not throwing anything away, Auren," he assures me.

"But... you…."

He threatened them.

"I was never actually going to execute that threat," he explains, drawing my body to his until there is no space left between us. His thumb rises to caress my cheek. "It was merely to show them how serious I am about you. And you, my gorgeous mate, are a permanent part of this pack now."

I feel tears water my eyes as I gaze up at him. How can he want me to be part of his pack? I’m nothing. I open my mouth to say something but he leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs.

The gentle kiss changes into something raw and hungry as he runs his hands down my back, grabbing my ass and pushing me into him. I can feel how hard he is.

He moves me backward until my back hits the rough bark of a tree. He breaks the kiss, his chest heaving. “Do you have any idea what it's been like watching you in this dress all night?"

I couldn't find my voice. My whole body is on fire and I feel my wetness dripping down my thighs. He he runs his mouth down my throat, to my breast, pulling the low bodice down and taking a nipple into his mouth. A moan leaves my lips, my body trembling.

"I've been sitting there," he murmurs against my skin, moving to my other breast. "Watching this dress hug every curve of your body. Watching the firelight turn it this deep, sinful red. Thinking of nothing—" he bit a nipple as his fingers curled into my hip, "—but tearing it off you."

"Dravik—" My breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps. Heat pooling more and more low in my belly.

I feel his mouth curved against my skin. "Dravik, what? Use your words, little mate."

"I can't—" My voice broke. I swallowed hard, trying again. "I can't think when you’re doing that."

He chuckles. His mouth leaves my breast and one hand comes up to frame the side of my face, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. My mouth parts, taking it in, sucking it and the sound he made in response—low, dark, satisfied—sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me.

“Fuck! Auren, I want you.”

"Someone could come," I whisper, even as my hands found his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket, pulling it off.  "The…the ceremony—someone might—"

"I don't care." His mouth drops to my neck, lips tracing the line of my throat with torturous slowness.

The sound that escapes me is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. I sound desperate. I don’t care. His mouth is hot against my throat, his tongue tracing a line till it reaches the mark there. My legs tighten as I moan out loud, my head falling back against the tree. I might cum right there.

"Dravik, please—"

"Please what?” He sucks the mark in my neck, holding me tightly against him as I squirm. “Tell me what you want, Auren."

"I want—," I breathe. "I want you to touch me."

A sound rumbles from his chest, and it vibrates through me where our bodies pressed together.

"Touch you? I'm going to do far more than touch you."

Then his hands move. His fingers find the neckline of my dress, and rips it apart.

I gasp and look down. The dress split down the front, falling away from my body and the cool night air rushes against my bare skin. He has indeed torn the gown and I feel a bit sad. I love the gown. It's the first very beautiful thing I have ever had. And Hope had worked hard to dress me.

“I will buy you a truck load of it,” he murmurs against my throat, his hand going to my hair and freeing them.

They come down and he puts his face there breathing it in. Then he pulls back, tearing the rest of my gown away and I see him freeze.

I look down to see what he’s looking at and my face turns red seeing the impossibly thin red lace I wore underneath my dress.

"Fuck!” His hands move over my body, fingers tracing the edge of the lace where it sat against my skin. "You wore this for me."

I can’t speak. Can’t do anything but stand there, trembling under the weight of his hands and his stare and the devastation in his voice. My heart is beating so hard I’m certain he can hear it.

"Answer me," he says, and his thumbs dips beneath the thin lace edge, tracing along my hip. "Did you wear this for me, Auren?"

"Yes." The word came out breathless, barely a whisper.

He lets out a groan, taking my lips into his and my hands go around his neck, pulling him closer.

"I could smell your arousal when you saw me as you walked in,” he murmurs against my skin.  I feel my face burn and I clench my thighs together, but his knee is already between them, pressing, parting, keeping me open. "Do you know what it took not to throw you over my shoulder right then?"

"I didn't—" My voice cracks.

"I can smell that you're soaked right now.” His fingers hook into the lace at my hips, and I stop breathing….waiting.

But he didn't pull them down.

Instead, his fingers dips below the waistband before sliding back up. Slow……very slow. The touch is so light it barely qualifies as contact, and yet I feel it everywhere—in my toes, my fingertips, the roots of my hair, the pit of my stomach where heat is coiling tighter and tighter with every pass of his fingers.

"Dravik—" My hips tilt toward his hand, chasing his fingers, chasing contact that he refuses to give. "Please."

"Please what?" he murmurs against my lips, his fingers dipping into the lace edge one more time, then withdraws entirely, and the sound that leaves my throat is almost a sob.

"Don't—" I grab for his wrist, but he catches my hand, pressing it back against the bark of the tree behind me.

"Don't what? Don't stop? Don't tease?" He leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Or don't stop teasing?"