Chapter 28

Hugh’s POV

This entire night, and now early morning, has been a total bust.

I spent hours at the club trying to find the perfect partner for a long night of blissful activities, but every woman I considered, I saw something about her I just didn’t like.

The blond in the tight blue dress? Too thin, and too blonde.

The brunette on the dance floor with the bedroom eyes? Too bold. I wanted someone shier tonight. Someone who would blush when I whispered in her ear all the things I wanted to do to her.

No, none of these women were right.

With regret, as time went on, I slowly came to realize that it wasn’t the quality of women that was upsetting me. Instead, it was my own preferences that were making things difficult tonight.

The only problem the women had tonight was that they weren’t my mate.

When I realized this, I became deeply enraged. After all, my mate and her rather crude rejection were the very reason I was out tonight. Now, here I was, ready to plow my way through every women in this club, but the ghost of my mate was here holding me back.

I wasn’t going to let her ruin a good time, so I went up to the brunette on the dance floor with the sexy eyes. At least I was certain, between her experience and mine, that we would have a fun evening. She would likely even take the lead if I were to get distracted.

Yet, now that we are in a hotel room, the clothes coming off, I can’t help but compare everything about this woman to the loveliness and perfection of my mate.

Yes, this brunette beauty looks fantastic naked, but my body doesn’t stir for her as it does for my mate. Granted, it still stirs, just not in the same way it used to.

As I part her legs and kiss my way to the apex of her thighs, I’m left wondering if I somehow ruined things for myself in my desire to see what sex with a fated mate felt like. Now that I’ve had it, regular sex with random women, even beautiful wild ones – as this one is sure to be from the way she tugs on my hair, guiding me to where she wants me – feels rather lackluster.

Even so, I make sure that this woman has her fun. After making her cum twice on my tongue.

After as I lean back admiring the debauched way she is stretching out her body, she says, “Don’t you want a ride, Alpha?”

Hearing her call me that gives me pause. “Alpha is fine for the ceremonies and the meetings, but here in the bedroom, I’m just Hugh.”

She pouts her bottom lip. “That’s no fun.”

“Take it or leave it,” I tell her. Grabbing a condom, I already know she’s going to take it, and not just because I’m one of the pack Alpha’s. My performance has something of a reputation in the pack. Women fall all over themselves to feel my dick inside of them.

Well, most of them do. All of them should.

If my mate wasn’t being so damn stubborn and unreasonable, I would be fucking her tonight.

Where did that hostility even come from? We’ve been having fun until now, and I know she got off from our sexting the other night.

All I did was ask to see her again, and she blew up at me.

Maybe something happened to her. Was she in some kind of trouble?

The thought made still at once. Was that it? Was she in trouble and instead of replying, I was here getting my rocks off with someone else?

No. No, forget that. If she needed me, she could have said something. All she did was blow me off. I was well within my rights to fuck other women tonight. Not that I needed her permission anyway.

Of course, it’d be so much damned easier to convince myself of that if she didn’t return to my thoughts every two minutes!

“Why did you stop?” the woman asks. She’s frowning at me now.

Gods, I did stop! Right in the middle of fucking her!

I had thought having a fated mate was a blessing that would lead to the best sex of my life. Little did I know it was also a curse, making all my other sexual exploits feel dull in comparison!

I hate this. I wish it was her underneath me, taking my cock as I buck up inside of her. With my eyes closed, I can almost imagine… the smell isn’t right. Nor is the feel of long fingernails raking along my back. Nor the exaggerated noises…

My mate smells like heaven. She’s more of a grabber than a clawer, and her noises.

It’s imagining those noises that drives me forward again.

I don’t know this woman beneath me. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just another blank canvas. She could be anyone.

In my mind, I’m giving pleasure to my mate who is squirming and begging beneath me, her skin blushing so beautifully as she’s caught between embarrassment and enthusiasm.

She’s still so new. She needs more practice.

That practice should be with me…

Sylvia’s POV

Conrad catches Ollie as she collapses. The plate she held drops down onto the floor, the food getting everywhere. It’s a miracle the plate doesn’t break.

“Ollie?” Conrad asks. He’s cradling her gently, though there’s annoyance in his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demands.

She can’t answer, of course, being unconscious as she is.

I take a blueberry from my fruit cup and pop it into my mouth. I don’t see what the big deal is. So she passed out? Who cares? Let the servants take her away and deal with it. There’s no reason for this to ruin a perfectly good breakfast.

But Wes and Declan are on their feet in the next moment and moving toward Ollie as if they want to check on her condition too.

I really don’t like that. I’m the only one who should be getting attention from the brothers.

“She was up late last night,” Declan says. “She might simply be tired.”

“Or stressed,” Wes says, “Given what happened at the coronation.”

“Take her to her room, Conrad,” Diana says, standing now too. “I’ll have one of the staff call for a doctor.”

“Is this really necessary?” I ask. “If Declan said she was up, she’s probably just tired. I think everyone is overreacting.”

They all take account of my words, yet Conrad continues to look down at Ollie instead of at me. Even though he’s glaring at her, I still want to be the only one to have his attention.

To get their eyes on me, I lift up my silverware, and while cutting my food, pretend to cut my finger.

“Ouch!” I say and wince, then put my finger in my mouth to ‘soothe’ it, while also hiding that there is no blood.

My ruse works, at once, Wes and Declan turn their attention to me. Conrad does too, though he’s still holding Ollie in his arms.

If it was up to me, he’d drop her.

“Are you alright?” Wes asks, coming closer.

“I accidentally cut myself,” I say.

“Let’s see,” Declan says and holds out his hand.

I wait a few seconds, long enough for my werewolf healing to have kicked in, and then place my hand in his. He and Wes inspect my finger while Conrad looks on with concern.

“It seems okay now,” Wes says.

“It hurt for a minute,” I say, earning sympathetic looks from the table.

“Conrad,” Diana says. “Take Ollie to her room now.”

“Then come right back!” I say.

He nods at me. “No more accidents, alright?”

I grin because even though he’s holding Ollie, he’s now thinking only of me.

“Yes, big brother.”