Page 100 of Red

“Move back,” I demand.

He slides back and props himself up on a pillow. I climb up and kneel inside his legs. Lowering my mouth, I flick the head of his cock with my tongue.

“Fuck.”

His hips shift up and I take my tongue all the way down the base of his shaft. I open my jaw and wet my lips before wrapping them around his head. I swirl my tongue, then start lowering myself down to take his length. I breathe in from my nose and go deep, deeper, until his cock starts sliding down my throat. Tears prick my eyes from his size, and I rise again. He pulls on my hair, and I clamp my legs back together over his. I love my mate’s cock in my mouth. I start to suck faster and faster, cupping the base of his balls. I let the heat surge again, letting fire touch my tongue, and I quicken my pace.

Stark’s growl grows. “Red . . .” He tries to pull my mouth away, but I feel his cock grow and tense under my lips. There’s no way. I sink his cock back down to the back of my throat and squeeze my lips. He grabs my head with both hands as his hot cum shoots down my throat. I take my time and lick the rest of his cock when he’s done, then swallow.

I wipe my lips, satisfied, then I glance up at him. Shock covers his face.

“What?” I ask.

“Come here.” He pulls me down beside him, his naked chest brushing mine. He wraps me in his arms and I tuck in tighter.

I close my eyes, resting my head on his warm chest. We still can’t have what we both want. But I have him. And that’s enough to keep me breathing. My mate.

When I wake, I’m underneath the sheet. The solid weight of Stark’s arm hangs over top of me, his legs entangled with mine. Nothing can ruin this, not even my red hair—I hope. One more day to go and then I can focus on operation fuck my mate instead of destroying the Uprising.

A knock comes at the door. “Alpha, we were moving furniture and have a question.”

Stark groans and climbs out of bed. He’s so good at putting others first. I wish I was driven that way for others and not myself. I stare at his perfect toned ass while he walks to the dresser for clothes. Once dressed, he slides out of the door, while I pull the sheets up higher and snuggle into them.

A few minutes later, the door opens again, and Stark comes to the edge of the bed. “I need you to get up.”

“Why?” I say, stretching my legs out and pouting. I’m comfy.

“There’s something I want you to see.”

“Okay?” I slide out of bed and smirk as Stark eyes my naked body.

I dress and follow him out of the room, leading me right across the hall. The dressers have been moved to block the bookcases. The four-poster bed is up against the wall now, and bunks line one side, clustered together.

Stark leads me in further. “Give us the room.”

The few moving more beds in immediately lower them to the floor and exit. Stark closes the door and strides over to me, his hand rising to my shoulder as he pushes me forward. Circling me, he leans down and pulls on the edge of the rug. My heart races as he rolls it up out of the way and runs his hands over the deep marks in the wood.

“Aloka, have you seen these before?” He only calls me that . . . when he’s mad.

I press my lips into a tight line to hide my panic, but the mask falters. “No, why would I?” I hate the idea of more secrets. I’ve spent most of my life keeping one.

“So you don’t know where they came from?” Complete disbelief radiates from him.

I lean back against one of the bunks the others left. “They were under the rug. Maybe the marks were here before I moved in.” It’s not illogical. How would I know who’s stayed here before me?

His eyes run over my face. “No, they weren’t.”

“You probably just don’t remember, or someone was afraid to tell you.” I shrug. If he keeps looking at me that way, I am going to lose my calm.

“They weren’t here. I know this because I filled this entire room for you the second I was told you were coming here.” His hands touch mine, and his brow pull together.

I ease my hands away and tuck them against myself. “How strange.” I move away from him to bend down and rub the deep splintered marks in the hardwood. I could’ve gone into acting if my body temperature didn’t give me away. I know better than to let him touch me.

“You don’t remember when a werewolf was in your room and changed?”

“No.”

Both his hands form fists, and that calm expression I despise looks back at me. “Red, if you had another man in your room . . . I won’t kill them. If it was before . . .”