FALLING FOR THE ALPHA’S BETA

6

Nia’s pov

He lapped at me relentlessly, tongue swirling inside before flicking out to tease my entrance, then diving back in deeper, harder. Saliva mixed with my arousal, dripping down my thighs, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room as he ate me out like a man starved. My hips bucked against his mouth, chasing the building pressure, my breaths coming in ragged pants.

And then it hit, that tight, coiling heat in my core unraveling fast, my orgasm cresting like a wave about to crash.

The wave broke over me without mercy, my orgasm ripping through my body like a storm. My p***y clenched hard around nothing now that his tongue had pulled away, but the aftershocks pulsed relentlessly, juices flooding out as I cried out, my back arching off the table.

Stars burst behind my eyelids, every nerve ending firing in ecstasy. It was the best head I'd ever had, intense, unrelenting, leaving me trembling and spent. And f**k, it was with him. Rowan, the one man I'd sworn I wanted nothing to do with, the one I'd walked away from months ago, calling it all a fling. In this goddamn empty room, stark and unforgiving, with nothing but echoes and our ragged breaths.

I hated to admit it, but I loved every filthy second, the rip of my pants, the way his mouth claimed me, the build-up that shattered me. If anything, I wanted to return the favor, to drop to my knees and make him groan the way he had me screaming inside.

As the tremors faded, Rowan rose slowly from between my thighs, his lips glistening with my release, eyes locked on mine with that predatory gleam.

My legs slipped from his shoulders, dangling weakly off the table's edge. Heart still pounding, I reached for his belt again, fingers itching to free his c**k, to wrap around its thick length and stroke him until he begged.

But he caught my wrist in his iron grip, halting me mid-motion, his thumb pressing into my pulse point. “It is only fair that I reciprocate,” I said, voice husky from the moans he'd wrung out of me, meeting his gaze defiantly even as my body hummed with lingering heat.

He tilted his head, a smirk curling his wet mouth. “Are you admitting that you can feel it then?“

“What?“ The word came out sharper than I intended, confusion cutting through the post-orgasm haze.

“Admit it,” he pressed, his voice low and insistent, releasing my wrist but not stepping back. “Running away wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because you did because even the mere sight of me makes you wet.”

The horny fog drained from my face in an instant, replaced by a cold splash of realization. My cheeks burned, but not from pleasure this time.

Was that why he did this? To prove a point? To shove it in my face that walking away from him months ago, dismissing what we had as just a fling, was because I... loved him? The word stuck in my throat, heavy and unspoken. I couldn't say it, wouldn't let it out.

He leaned in closer, his breath still carrying the scent of my arousal. “Admit it.”

“There is nothing to admit, Rowan,” I shot back, pulling my hand away and sitting up straighter, though my torn pants left me exposed and vulnerable. “Yes, I enjoyed what we just had, but that's it.”

His eyes narrowed, that smirk fading into something harder. “But you want me to f**k you. I can see it in your eyes. You want me to f**k you senseless.”

I pulled myself together, every muscle in my body stiff with defiance. My pulse was still a wild, uneven drum beneath my skin, but I forced my breathing to steady. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking I cared. Not after everything. Not after the way he’d looked at me just now, like I was something he could unravel with nothing but a stare.

“I don’t want you,” I said flatly, even though the tremor in my voice betrayed me. I folded my arms across my chest like a shield, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat still lingering in my cheeks. “Whatever this was…whatever you think it means…it doesn’t.”

He tilted his head, that unreadable look crossing his face again. Calm. Controlled. Almost amused. It was infuriating how unbothered he seemed, as if my words barely grazed him. “No?” he murmured, taking a slow step forward. “Then tell me why you can’t even look me in the eye right now.”

I stiffened. “I can.”

“Then do it,” he challenged softly.

So I did. I lifted my gaze and locked onto his, and the air between us changed instantly. It thickened, charged with something I didn’t want to name. His eyes were grey, steady and unflinching, and for a second, I forgot what I’d meant to say. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he could pull me in without saying a word.

“Because you make everything complicated,” I snapped, breaking eye contact. “You twist words, feelings, everything, to suit your ego.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Or maybe I just see through the lies you tell yourself.”

“God, you’re arrogant.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging lightly, his tone maddeningly casual. “But I’m rarely wrong.”

That smug confidence of his set my teeth on edge. Every word he spoke pressed against my nerves like a dare.

“Let’s make it interesting then.”

I stopped, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“A bet.”

I turned back to face him fully. “A what?”

He smiled now, slow, deliberate, the kind that made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t like. “You claim you don’t want me. I say you do. So let’s prove who’s right.”

A disbelieving laugh burst out of me. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t joke about things I intend to win.” He took another step closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body, even though he hadn’t touched me. His voice dropped, deep and certain. “Give me a few weeks, no, three months. I’ll make you fall for me. Without even f*****g you.”

I blinked, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re insane.”

“Then prove it,” he said quietly, extending his hand between us. “Prove that I’m out of my mind. Shake on it.”

My heart thudded painfully against my ribs. I stared at his hand, steady and sure, then back at his face. He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it. There was a glint in his eyes, something dark and unyielding, like he’d already decided how this would end.