The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 31: Imagination

Alpha Oliver’s POV

​"Thank you for lunch," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she started clearing the plates.

​"Let me help you with the dishes," I offered, standing up.

​"No," she snapped, more quickly than I expected. "I’ve got it. You helped cook; I’ll clean."

​I sat back down, my arms crossed, watching her move around the kitchen. Why was she so closed off? Any other woman in this kingdom would be throwing herself at me, drooling over my title, or trying to seduce her way into my bed. But Aurora? She treated my help like a threat and my presence like a challenge. She was just... different.

​Grab her. Kiss her. Make her ours, my wolf growled, his voice a low, primal rumble in the back of my mind.

​Shut up, buddy, I snapped back at him. Not like this.

​But as she leaned over the sink, the fabric of her jeans stretched over the rounded curve of her ass. I felt my cock twitch and harden instantly. Fuck. I looked away, forcing myself to stare at the wall, gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. I had to control myself. I was the King, not some teenager with no restraint.

​Once she was finally done, the kitchen was spotless. She stood there, wiping her hands on a towel, looking exhausted.

​"You should rest," I said, my voice finally steady. "Take the guest room down the hall. I’ll take you back to your apartment this evening." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

​She hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Sir."

​I frowned. I hate it when she calls me "Sir." I wished to tell her to call me Oliver—just Oliver—but I know that will make her feel awkward. I’ll give her time.

​I showed her to the room, making sure she had everything she needed before retreating to my own master suite. I stripped off my clothes, catching a glimpse of my covered tattoo in the mirror. I stepped into the shower, turning the handle until the water was ice cold, hoping it would be enough to kill the fire she had started.

​The ice-cold water hit my chest, but it did nothing to quench the fire burning in my gut. My skin was still electric from where her lips had touched my finger, a ghost of a sensation that refused to fade.

​I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, my breath hitching as my hand instinctively drifted down. My cock was rock hard, pulsing with a need that felt more like a physical ache. I wrapped my fingers around the thick length of myself, my grip tight and impatient.

​Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was her. I saw the way her jeans hugged her curves as she bent over the sink, the vulnerable slope of her neck, and the defiant spark in her eyes. But then, the image shifted. Oliver faded, and Raymond took over.

​I remembered the taste of her at the club. My mind replayed the moment I had her pinned, the way my tongue had slid inside her. She had been so incredibly tight—a crushing, velvet heat that had nearly driven me over the edge then. I could still imagine how she’d feel if I were buried deep inside her right now, stretching her open, forcing those panicked breaths to turn into soft, broken moans of pleasure.

​I began to stroke harder, my movements rhythmic and fast. The friction was a desperate relief. I imagined those big, defiant eyes clouding over with lust as I claimed her, not as a gentleman king, but as the predator she feared and craved.

​"Aurora," I growled, the name a jagged sound against the roar of the shower.

​I worked myself faster, my thumb grazing the head of my cock as I pictured her pinned beneath me on the very bed in the next room. I wanted to feel her shaking against me, her small hands clawing at my back as I filled that tight, perfect pussy. The thought of her slick and sobbing my name pushed me to the brink.

​My muscles coiled tight, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped animal. With one last, heavy surge, I stifled a low roar as I came, the release hitting me in waves that left me drained and leaning heavily against the wall.

​I stayed there for a long time, the cold water finally starting to numb my skin. I stepped out, dried myself off quickly, and threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and a thin black long-sleeved T-shirt. My skin still felt tight, my nerves on edge. I found myself walking toward the guest room before I could even talk myself out of it.

​I knocked softly.

​The door creaked open after a moment. Aurora stood there, looking startled, her hair a bit messy as if she had just laid her head down. But my breath caught in my throat and stayed there. She had clearly tried to get comfortable; she wasn’t wearing a bra under her thin blouse. The fabric was light, and the silhouette of her nipples was clearly visible, pressing against the material.

​Fuck me. She didn’t seem to notice. She just looked up at me with those wide, tired eyes, completely unaware of the effect she was having on me. My pulse, which had just calmed down, started racing all over again. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was filled with dry sand. I had to say something—anything—to break the spell.

​"Aurora," I said, my voice sounding rough and strained.

​"Yes, Sir?" she asked, leaning slightly against the doorframe.

​I looked at the floor, then back at her face, trying with everything I had to keep my eyes level with hers. An idea formed in my mind—a way to help her that she might actually accept.

​"I... I need your help with something," I began, my hands shoved deep into my pockets so she wouldn’t see them clenching. "I’m attending my mother’s birthday party and I’d like you to accompany me."

​She blinked, confused. "Me? But I’m just—"

​"I’ll pay you $20,000," I interrupted, the number hanging in the air between us. "If you agree to come along with me."

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