Page 95 of Alpha Brock

CHAPTER FORTY

Astrid

Brock’s closet is definitely not big enough for the both of us. I started moving my things in today, and I’ve basically taken over most of the space already. I already knew I owned an exorbitant amount of clothing, but next to Brock’s minimalistic wardrobe, the sheer volume of what I have is a little embarrassing. He hasn’t teased me about it, but I caught a few raised eyebrows and sly glances pass between him and the guys as they lugged all my stuff upstairs.

Something I didn’t expect upon returning to the Riverton packhouse is that it already kinda feels like home. I really settled in here over the past month; I’m comfortable in the space and I have a good groove going with all of the guys. That’s not to say I won’t get homesick for Denver at some point, but for now, it has definitely eased the transition. That, and being with Brock- because as long as I’m with him, I’m home.

After unpacking, we have dinner with the guys and then the four of us hang out and watch a movie. It’s delightfully unremarkable, and exactly the kind of night I was hoping to have upon our return home. Everything lately has been all about the shadow pack and preparing defenses, and while I know that stuff is important, it’s nice to tuck it away for a night and just benormal. Nights like these are so underrated.

Long after we’ve tucked into bed for the night, I wake up, my throat parched. I don’t have to look at the clock to know it’s the wee hours of the morning, but this is pretty standard for me. I’ve always been a light sleeper, and it’s not uncommon for me to wake up and grab a midnight snack or drink. I need something to quench my thirst, so I slip out of bed quietly, making my way downstairs to the kitchen.

Once there, I check the fridge for juice, but it doesn’t look like the guys have bothered to grocery shop since Brock and I left for Denver. Bummer. I fill a glass with water instead, chugging it down, then drop my glass in the sink and head back upstairs. I tiptoe down the dark hallway to where Brock’s room is situated at the end. Actually, I guess it’s my room too, now.Ourroom.

As I reach out for the door handle, it flies open, and all I can see through the dark is Brock’s large silhouette filling the doorway, chest heaving as he draws ragged breaths. I draw a short gasp, staring up at him and freezing my movements as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Brock?” I choke out. “You startled me…”

“Fuck, Astrid,” he growls, reaching for my arm. He sounds mad, but before I can even process that, he yanks me into the room, closing the door behind me. He backs me up into it and slaps a hand up on the door, caging me in and leaning down over me. “Where the hell were you?” Brock demands, grabbing my chin and angling my face up to his.

He’s in a complete panic- I can hear how fast his heart is racing. I just don’t knowwhy.

“Brock, calm down,” I say gently, reaching out to press my palms to his chest. “I was thirsty, I just went downstairs for something to drink.”

“Fuck,” he growls out, pounding his fist against the door. I suck in a little gasp as it rattles against my back. He’s all worked up, still drawing heavy breaths.

“Hey…” I soothe, running my palms over his bare chest. “What’s goin’ on, babe?” I trail one hand up his neck, cupping his jaw and digging my fingers into the scruff of his beard as I blink up at him through the dark. “Talk to me.”

Brock blows out a breath, bringing one hand to wrap around my throat, flexing his fingers. He leans his forehead against mine “I woke up and you weren’t there,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I just…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Brock,” I whisper, trailing my hands down the curves of his well-defined eight-pack abs and wetting my lips with my tongue. His eyes track the movement of my mouth, and as they do, his panic and pain shift to something else; something darker. Something desperate.

Suddenly his lips are crashing down onto mine, his grip tightening around my throat as he kisses me urgently, frantically, like it’s the last chance he’ll get. His tongue plunders my mouth, his teeth nipping my lips. He’s like a man possessed, taking every piece of me, and I give myself over willingly. He bites down so hard on my lower lip that I swear I taste the metallic tinge of blood, but it only rachets up the scorching heat overtaking my body. I keep kissing him like I’m starved for it, pressing my body forward into his as he swallows my moans.

The next thing I know, Brock is gripping the backs of my thighs, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist. I wind my arms around his neck, pinned between the hardness of his chest and the bedroom door. Then he’s tugging his boxers down, clawing at my thin cotton sleep shorts- he tears them clean off of my body, tossing them aside. I feel the smooth head of his cock prod my opening, and my head falls back into the door on a gasp as he slips inside, stretching me wide to accommodate his girth.

I dig my fingernails into the backs of his shoulders as he starts pumping in and out, slowly at first, then picking up his pace. The bedroom door rattles on its hinges, and I can’t contain the mewls of pleasure falling from my lips as he pounds into me.Harder. Faster. Claiming me. Owning me.

I feel my orgasm building, starting as a tight curl in my belly and growing with each thrust. My breath starts coming out in short pants as I bury my hands in Brock’s hair, tugging on the strands. “Fuck… Brock…” I pant, pressure rising inside of me, threatening to explode with every punishing stroke of his cock.

“That’s right baby,” Brock growls, sliding a hand between our slick bodies. His fingers find my clit instantly, rubbing it and pushing me over the edge. “Come on my dick.”

I scream as pleasure erupts inside of me like a volcano, my body shaking with my orgasm. Brock slams me against the door with a hard thrust as he, too, finds release, grunting as his thighs tremble and he holds me tight to the door, filling me with warmth as he empties inside me. My head falls against his shoulder as we both pant hard, catching our breath.

“Well that was… unexpected,” I giggle, lifting my head and drawing back to look at him. He’s still got that feral look in his eyes, his wolf shining through.

Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around my waist, walking me over to the bed with his dick still seated inside of me. He leans down over it, dropping me onto the mattress before he pulls out and heads into the bathroom. Returning with a warm washcloth, he cleans us both up before slipping back into bed, immediately reaching out to tug me into him possessively, my back resting against his front and his arm circling my waist.

He still hasn’t said a word, and I have to know what’s going on in that gorgeous head of his. The man holds too much inside.

“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask quietly, snuggling into his embrace. “Talk to me.”

Brock heaves a sigh, and it blows my hair against my cheek, tickling my skin. “I don’t know,” he grumbles. “When I woke up and you weren’t there, I just…” his voice trails off and he swallows hard.

He panicked, that much is clear. This isn’t the first time that Brock’s deep-rooted abandonment issues have come to light. His last relationship really messed him up, and though it was beyond my control, I don’t think it helped that I was basically kidnapped the day after I told him that I wouldn’t leave him like she did.

I twist around in his arms until I’m facing him, pressing one hand to his chest and bringing the other to stroke along his sharp jawline. “What’s it going to take for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere?” I ask, gazing into his emerald eyes through the dark.

“Is it too much to ask that you never leave my sight?” he murmurs.