Page 116 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

I hesitated, then sat on the edge.

Lily climbed between us, settled contentedly against the pillows, and patted the space beside her. "Mommy, lie here! Zane, keep reading!"

I lay down with a four-year-old buffer between me and Zane. Lily shoved the book into Zane's hands, then grabbed one hand from each of us and closed her eyes.

"Keep reading, Zane."

Zane cleared his throat and continued. His voice was low and gentle, flowing through the afternoon sunlight.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of Lily's small hand, the sunlight on my face, Zane's voice in my ears.

That empty place inside me didn't feel so hollow anymore.

Maybe—

Maybe I could try believing again.

Maybe some people deserved a second chance.

I opened my eyes and looked at Zane. He was looking back, those gray-blue eyes holding a careful, tentative hope.

I didn't speak.

But I didn't look away.

Outside the window, the sunlight was perfect, a breeze gently stirring the curtains, carrying the scent of roses from the garden.

Zane suddenly leaned closer, his breath falling on my face.

"Mia..." he said my name, voice rough, thick with desire, and in that instant, my face flushed.

"Wait, Lily's sleeping..."

Zane immediately sat up, gently lifted Lily, carried her to the next room, and handed her to a maid. Then he came back, looking at me with those intense eyes.

He moved slowly at first, like he was afraid I'd bolt. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone with a tenderness that made my breath catch. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, voice rough. "If you don't want this—"

"Shut up," I breathed, and pulled him down.

The kiss was nothing like our first. That had been duty, performance. This was hunger. His mouth moved against mine with a desperation that sent heat flooding through my veins. When his tongue swept across my lower lip, I opened for him without thinking, and the groan that rumbled in his chest went straight between my legs.

His hands shook as they traced down my sides. "Mia," he breathed against my lips, "I've wanted... Fuck, I've wanted you so badly."

"Then take me." The words came out before I could stop them, shameless and needy. But I didn't care anymore. My body was making decisions my mind had been fighting for weeks.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes dark with lust but still careful. "Are you sure? Because once I start—"

"If you ask me one more time, I swear to God—"

He kissed me again, harder this time, claiming. His hand slid under my dress, fingers tracing up my thigh with agonizing slowness. When he finally cupped me through my underwear, we both groaned. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, and the knowing smirk that curved his lips made me want to slap him and beg him at the same time.

"So ready for me," he murmured, circling his thumb over the fabric. The friction was maddening, not nearly enough. "Tell me what you need."

"You know what I need." My hips rolled against his hand, chasing more pressure.

"Say it." His thumb pressed harder, right where I needed it. "I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck me," I gasped, past caring about pride. "Zane, please—"