Chapter 22 Twenty one
Nora.
"They left immediately after the event, my Luna," Selene's voice breaks through my thoughts as she lays out an outfit for today's occasion. Howard and I are scheduled to have lunch with his father and stepmother. The memory of last night's events still weighs heavily on my mind, casting a shadow over the upcoming lunch. My anger simmers, the sense of betrayal and embarrassment gnawing at me.
I recall leaving the event abruptly, unable to endure the sight of another woman draped all over my husband. Lizzie, was left behind, and I haven't had the chance to properly spend time with her.
Howard followed me home, and for a fleeting moment, I held onto the hope that he wanted to mend the damage. But his actions shattered that hope—his accusations of me embarrassing him, despite his own inappropriate behavior. It's a wound that's still fresh, and it intensifies my upset.
"Is the gift basket ready? I need to get ready and leave now; else I’ll be late," I instruct Selene, my tone composed despite the uproar within me. Picking up the long pink chiffon dress she's laid out, I prepare myself for the task ahead.
"Yes, my Luna. Everything is set," she replies before she starts to leave. But her hesitance lingers, and I can sense there's more she wants to say.
"What is it?" I ask, maintaining my calm exterior even as my emotions seethe beneath the surface. Her response only deepens my curiosity, "The Alpha would join you in thirty minutes." She hurries out of the room, leaving me puzzled. The Alpha? She meant Howard, of course, but why does she make it sound as if he's joining me somewhere specific? I shake off the thought, focusing on the task of getting ready.
As I discard my towel on the floor, preparing to don my underwear and the dress, the door to my room suddenly swings open. My gasp catches in my throat as Howard steps inside, seemingly unaware or unconcerned that I'm standing there completely naked. The intrusion startles me, and a mix of shock and anger bubbles within me.
"You have to stop coming into my room like this," I say, my annoyance evident in my voice. But Howard remains unperturbed, continuing to advance into my room. I clutch the dress against my chest, my makeshift shield against the intrusion.
Regret courses through me for not wearing my underwear before discarding my towel. Now, here stands a fully grown man, my supposed husband—though nothing between us implies such a bond—staring at me in my vulnerable state. His gaze lingers on my neck, his intent unsettling yet mysterious.
A heavy sigh escapes him, and his gaze finally meets mine. "You ran away through the balcony last night," he states, his brows furrowing. Memories of my escape come flooding back. When he had instructed me to dress up and return to the event, I'd evaded his demand by slipping through the balcony, retreating into the garden until he seemingly gave up searching for me.
I straighten my posture, asserting my command for him to leave my room, my desire to get dressed unobstructed. "I told you I didn't wanna go back. Now leave my room; I want to get dressed," I assert, the words firm. But Howard remains immovable, his proximity setting my nerves on edge.
His eyes travel down to my chest, an action that sends a jolt through my heart. Clinging to the dress even more tightly, I attempt to maintain my composure, to appear more collected than the array of emotions he witnessed from me the previous night.
Despite my efforts, his actions are unpredictable. Closing the gap between us, his arms encircle my bare waist. My throat tightens as I swallow, my heart racing beneath the surface of my calm facade.
His touch against my exposed skin ignites a feeling akin to blazing fire, leaving me struggling to keep my emotions in check. The proximity, the contact, all of it is disconcerting, a reminder of the complexities that intertwine us in ways I'm yet to understand.
"I got in trouble with my father last night because of your disappearance," Howard's words cut through the charged air, his voice smooth yet carrying an undertone of coldness. His fingers trace delicate patterns along my bare back, sending shivers coursing through me, not from cold, but from the electrifying sensation of his touch. The dichotomy of his words and actions keeps me off balance, uncertain of what to expect next.
"You have to pay back what you did," he adds, his face lowering to bury in my hair. His breath fans over my skin, and a soft groan escapes him as he presses himself closer to my body. I try to maintain my composure, but his proximity, his touch, and his voice make it difficult to keep my emotions in check.
"We're going to be late," I remind him, my voice steady despite the mayhem within me. The lunch time with his parents demands punctuality, but his reply dismisses my concern. "They won't mind," he asserts, his husky tone sending a jolt of desire coursing through me. My resolve wavers as I struggle to resist the alluring pull between us.
Raising his head to meet my gaze, he wears an expression that remains puzzling, his emotions guarded behind a mask that defies my attempts to decipher. It's always been a challenge to discern his feelings, to uncover the layers that he conceals.
As if seeking to intensify the connection, his hand drifts lower, his fingers gently squeezing my butt, evoking a gasp from me. And then, with a deliberate yet passionate intent, our lips meet. The sensation is overwhelming, a fusion of longing, confusion, and the undeniable pull that has drawn us together despite our differences. A moan escapes him, vibrating between our lips as he kisses me, the taste of desire lingering in the air between us.
The barriers that once held me back seem to crumble in the face of Howard's passionate advances. Letting go of my dress, I surrender to the intensity of the moment, wrapping my arms around his neck as he fervently claims my lips. His kiss is a burning fire, consuming and thrilling, erasing any doubts that may have lingered.
His hands cup my butt, lifting me effortlessly. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, allowing him to guide us toward my bed. Our connection is unspoken yet profound, a compelling force drawing us together with a relentless desire.
His kisses continue, each press of his lips against mine a mixture of softness and demand. We moan in unison, a symphony of pleasure and longing echoing between us. The feelings of his touch, his lips on mine, echo through my body, overwhelming my senses in a whirlwind of desire and need.
Making out with him in bed was even better than it had been while standing.
Howard's touches ignite a trail of fiery feelings across my skin, his lips pressing against mine with a tenderness that belies the hunger within us. His gentle bite on my lower lip draws a moan from me, a sweet mixture of pleasure and anticipation.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him closer, craving his touch like a drug I can't resist. I can feel the undeniable evidence of his desire pressed against me, sending a thrilling surge through me, making me even wetter with need.
His hands explore my body, fingers tracing lines of pleasure as they trail down to cup my breasts. The electricity between us is palpable, the heavy breaths we share a testament to the unspoken longing that's been building between us. His kisses travel to my neck, igniting a symphony of sensations that leave me gasping, my body arching toward him, seeking more of his touch.
We're both breathless, consumed by an undeniable hunger for each other. His lips return to mine, a storm of fervent kisses that mirror the intensity of our emotions. And then, he pulls away, leaving me staring up at him, my chest heaving, my body yearning for more of his touch.
The words he utters cut through me like a knife, shattering the moment of passion we shared. "Get up and get dressed," he commands, his words heavy with dismissal. The abruptness of his order crashes down on me, my heart sinking as the weight of the reality settles in. He untangles my legs from around him, his exit a painful reminder of the limits he imposes.
Naked and vulnerable, I lay there as he walks toward the door. His parting words hang in the air, a reminder of my place in his world. "I'll be downstairs waiting. Don't waste my time," he states before the door closes behind him, leaving me alone with the aftermath of our heated encounter.
Closing my eyes, I struggle to hold back the tears that threaten to spill. My throat constricts with the effort of suppressing the emotions that swirl within me. Dragging the duvet over my body, I curl into myself, feeling a deep sense of shame for allowing him to take advantage of my vulnerability.
I come to realize that if I had denied him even a single kiss, perhaps he wouldn't have wielded this power over me, leaving me tangled in a web of emotions I can't escape.
Seated at the dining area with Howard and his parents, I struggle to maintain my composure. The event of earlier today, his distant demeanor, they all weigh heavily on my mind. If not for my respect for his father and stepmother, I might have been tempted to repeat my dramatic escape, jumping off the balcony and leaving Howard to explain my absence.
It's a difficult truth to accept, that I willingly entered into this situation despite Howard's warnings. I had wanted him so badly, to claim him as mine, and now I find myself trapped in a situation that's causing me more pain than joy. But I can't blame him completely, for he did warn me about the consequences of being with him.
As conversations flow between Howard and his father, I find myself lost in my thoughts, playing with my fork as I push the food around my plate. Every bite seems to stick in my throat, my appetite diminished by the chaos in my heart and the vivid memories of our encounter.
Marie, observant as ever, places her hand on mine, her concern evident in her touch. I glance at her, offering a small smile. "Do you need something else, my dear?" she asks gently.
I force a smile, attempting to mask the turmoil within. "No thank you, Marie. I'm enjoying my meal," I reply, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.
Howard's gaze shifts to me, a look that's difficult to decipher. I avoid his eyes, unable to meet his gaze. The tension in the air is intense, a mixture of emotions that I struggle to untangle. Despite the unease that simmers beneath the surface, I hold onto a facade, determined to appear composed even as my heart aches in silence.
As Claude's voice breaks through my thoughts, I glance up at him, offering a smile. His question catches me off guard, though. "Are you ready to move to the Alpha house?" he asks, and I'm left puzzled by the mention of this new development. Howard had never mentioned anything about moving.
"House?" I repeat, my voice tinged with surprise. I look to Howard, awaiting his explanation. He meets my gaze with an indifferent shrug. "I was going to tell her tonight," he says casually, brushing off the fact that he hadn't thought to share this important decision with me earlier. I feel a pang of disappointment at his lack of consideration.
But before I can dwell on that, Claude's next words draw me back to the conversation. "And about the baby? I hope you two are still trying," he says, shifting the subject. My eyes widen in shock, darting between Howard and his father. A baby? Trying? None of this had been discussed with me, and I suddenly feel like an outsider in my own life.
Howard's response is curt and dismissive, his annoyance evident in his tone. He clearly doesn't want to discuss the matter further. But Claude's anger only fuels my own frustration. I can't sit here and allow them to talk about me as if I'm not present.
Summoning a hint of courage, I speak up, addressing Howard directly. "Why don't you tell your father the truth?" I manage to grit out through my teeth. His glare is meant to intimidate me, but I refuse to back down.
"What truth?" Claude demands, his eyes flicking between us.
I take a deep breath, locking eyes with Howard. "Tell him," I insist, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. His look of revolt and hatred only fuels my purpose.
"There is no truth," Howard denies, his words a blatant lie.
My frustration boils over, and I'm done allowing him to dictate the narrative. "I will tell him if you don't," I declare, the weight of my words hanging in the air. The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for the truth to emerge, for the reality of our situation to be unveiled.
As Claude's expectant gaze shifts between Howard and me, I summon every ounce of courage within me. "Howard wanted us to wait until a year before we start having kids, but I suppose that has to change," I state, my voice tinged with a forced smile. I can see a flicker of something on Howard's face – perhaps a mix of apprehension and relief.
His father's expression changes too, from curiosity to an amused grin. "Oh c'mon, disregard that nonsense and start giving me grandbabies," Claude exclaims, his smile widening. A warmth spreads through me at his words. Maybe he genuinely cares, and his concern for the family's legacy outweighs any frustration he may have felt earlier.
Howard's face is a mix of frustration and anger, but beneath it all, I can sense a glimmer of relief. He nods his head, finally acknowledging the situation. "Yes, father, we will," he replies begrudgingly, his glare directed at me. I hold his gaze, unflinching, letting him know that I will eventually tell the truth if he wasn’t careful.