The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 64: Lost Control

Aurora’s POV

He leaned in, his nose brushing against the sensitive, aching folds of my center. He inhaled sharply, a deep, drunken sniff as if my scent was the only thing keeping him alive. I felt my walls turn to liquid, a hot, honeyed slickness coating my entrance.

​Then, his tongue made contact.

​It wasn’t a gentle lap; it was a firm, rhythmic stroke that started at the very bottom and traveled all the way up to my swollen bud. I let out a broken cry, my head hitting the mahogany table behind me. He was eating me with a desperate, raw intensity that felt terrifyingly familiar. Every flick of his tongue, every suction of his lips against my clit, felt exactly like the way Raymond had claimed me in my room.

​How? I thought through the haze of pleasure. How could two different men eat me the exact same way? I felt him bury his face in me, his tongue pushing deep inside my opening, mimicking the motion of a slow, agonizing fuck. I was soaking wet, my juices running down his chin, but he didn’t care. He lapped it up like a starving man. While his tongue pleasured me, his hands wandered upward. He shoved my shirt up to my neck, his calloused palms fumbling with my bra until he could squeeze my breasts. He kneaded the soft globes through the lace, his thumbs catching my hard nipples and rolling them in sync with his licking.

​"Fuck, Oliver..." I moaned, my fingers tangling in his thick hair, alternately pushing him away and pulling him closer.

​I looked down, my eyes blurry with lust, watching the most powerful man in the world lose himself between my legs. My pussy became bright pink and glistening, the petals flared wide under his relentless attention. He began to suck on my clit, a hard, rhythmic draw that sent electric shocks straight to my core. I felt the first tremors of an explosion building deep inside me.

​I arched my back, my hips thrusting forward into his face. I was completely exposed, my shirt bunched under my chin and my legs spread for his worship. The scent of my arousal mixed with his expensive cologne, creating a musk that made the entire office feel like a den of sin.

​"Don’t stop," I sobbed, my voice a jagged mess of need. "Oliver, please..."

​He groaned against my wet skin, his hands tightening their grip on my breasts as he redoubled his efforts. He moved upward, his mouth crashing against mine, forcing me to taste the salt and musk of my own arousal that coated his lips.

​Before I could even process the sensation, I heard the violent rip of fabric. My shirt was ruined, hanging in shreds around my arms, and with a deft flick of his fingers, my bra was unhooked and tossed aside. He didn’t waste a second, his mouth latching onto my breast with a starving sort of greed. He sucked the peak deep into his mouth, his tongue lashing against the sensitive tip while his hand squeezed the other globe, his calloused thumb abrading my nipple until I was sobbing his name.

​My hands acted on their own, fueled by a desperate need to feel him. I reached for his belt, my fingers fumbling with the leather until the buckle hissed open. I shoved his trousers down, my breath hitching as I reached into his silk boxers and freed him. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

​My eyes widened as he stood before me, fully naked. He was perfectly, neatly shaved, his pale skin taut and glowing. But as my gaze traveled down the length of him—thick, heavy, and pulsing—a cold shock of recognition jolted through the heat of my lust.

​It was identical. The curve, the size, the way the veins mapped across the surface like a familiar geography. It was the same cock that had haunted my dreams since that night with Raymond. My mind raced, trying to bridge the impossible gap between the masked man in the club and the King standing in this office.

​But Oliver didn’t give me time to think.

​He stepped between my spread knees and leaned down, his eyes dark with a terrifying, beautiful possessiveness, and captured my lips in a bruising kiss. As our tongues clashed, I felt his hand move downward, his fingers finding my soaking entrance.

​He didn’t rush. He pushed just one long, thick finger inside me, stretching my aching walls. I let out a high, thin moan against his mouth, my hips instinctively rolling against his hand, begging for the rest of him.

​"You’re so wet for me, Aurora," he moaned into the kiss, his voice a jagged edge of desire. "Tell me... do you still want to resign?"

​I couldn’t answer. I could only cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as he added a second finger. The friction of his fingers was reaching a fever pitch, and I was seconds away from screaming my release when everything suddenly changed.

​The air in the office didn’t just get heavy; it became electric, vibrating with a raw, predatory power that made the hair on my arms stand up. Oliver’s movements became jerky, his fingers curling into claws inside me for one sharp, bruising second before he ripped them out.

​I let out a broken cry of protest, my body arching off the table, begging for the return of his touch. But as I opened my eyes, I saw a monster.

​Oliver’s blue eyes were gone. In their place were two burning orbs of molten, Alpha gold. His canine teeth were lengthening, pushing against his lips, and a low, guttural growl started deep in his chest—a sound that wasn’t human. It was the sound of a beast that had finally snapped its chain.

​"Oliver?" I breathed, my voice trembling.

​He didn’t look at me. He looked through me, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of my arousal. He looked like he was going to devour me right there on the mahogany desk. Then, his head snapped back, his neck cords straining as he fought for air.

​"No!" he roared, the sound echoing off the soundproof walls.

​He scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own discarded trousers. He didn’t look back at me as I sat there, half-naked and shivering on his desk. He bolted for the private ensuite, the heavy door slamming against the wall as he burst inside.

​I heard the frantic turn of a handle, and then the roar of the shower.

​I stood up, my legs shaking so violently I had to lean on the table for support. I moved toward the bathroom door, my ruined shirt clutched to my chest.

Through the steam and the crashing water, I heard him. He wasn’t just panting; he was arguing.

​"Stop it!" Oliver’s voice came through the sound of the shower. "Calm down! She isn’t your mate!"

​A low, pained howl vibrated through the tile work.

​"I said settle!" Oliver barked, his voice cracking. I could hear the sound of his fist hitting the marble wall of the shower. Thud. Thud. "She’s just a girl... just an assistant. You are an Alpha King, act like it! We don’t lose control for a human... especially not one who isn’t our mate."

​I froze outside the door, the cold water of his words hitting me harder than the spray hitting him. He was fighting his wolf—fighting the part of himself that wanted me—by reminding himself that I wasn’t his mate.

​"You are scaring her," he hissed, his voice muffled by the downpour. "Calm down. Do you hear me? Settle down!"

​I forced my shaky legs to move. I couldn’t stand there and listen to him wrestle with his wolf any longer. I walked back into the office, the silence now feeling heavy and charged. I fumbled with my clothes, pulling my lace underwear and pants back up, then stepping into my skirt. But my shirt was a lost cause—the fabric was shredded beyond repair. I grabbed his discarded suit jacket from the chair and wrapped it around myself, the scent of him enveloping me as I sat on the leather couch, waiting.

​Finally, the sound of the shower cut off.

​A moment later, the door opened. Oliver walked out, steam clinging to his skin like a second layer. He was only wearing a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Water dripped from his hair onto his broad, muscular, tattooed chest, and his eyes had returned to their piercing blue, though they were bloodshot and weary.

​"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice barely a whisper.

​He stopped, his gaze dropping to the floor. He looked drained, like he’d just fought a war with himself. "I’m sorry," he rasped, his voice still rough from the growling. "My wolf... he lost control. He pushed too hard."

​I nodded, clutching his jacket tighter around my chest. "I heard you talking to him."

​Oliver let out a dry, bitter scoff. He walked over to the window, staring out at the pack lands before turning back to me. "He seems to like you. A lot. More than is sensible for a beast who usually listens to reason." He sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "I didn’t know what to feel about that. Seeing him react to you like that... it’s dangerous."

​He moved slowly across the room and sat on the couch beside me. The heat from his damp body radiated off him, making my skin tingle.

​"Aurora," he started, his voice soft now, devoid of the Alpha command. "I apologize for the cold attitude I’ve been giving you since that night. I was trying to push you away because I was afraid of what you were doing to me."

​He turned his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "I like you, Aurora. I haven’t been able to think about anything else. I want you."

​My eyes widened. After everything—the rejection, the "mistake," the fighting—he was finally saying it. But before my heart could soar, his next words crushed me.

​"Be my mistress," he said, his gaze intense. "Stay here, with me. I’ll take care of everything. Your debts, your brother, your safety. You won’t have to worry about a thing ever again."

​