Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 62 : Open Up to Him

*Lena*

Xander shut my bedroom door behind him, the sound of the party going on downstairs dying down to

faint vibration as he snapped the lock shut.

I closed my eyes as I walked forward, chasing the moonlight filtering through the silken curtains letting

in the breeze off the balcony.

Maybe I'd been wrong. I'd been looking at this all the wrong way. For so long, being a White Queen

meant losing control of my own destiny.

But Xander had been… he'd been right. I'd be queen. I'd have responsibilities, sure. I'd have a duty to

my lands, my people, and my family.

But I'd still be me, deep down. Right?

“Do you need help with that?"

I hadn't realized I was fumbling with the laces on the back of my dress until Xander's voice filled the

room. I felt his fingers against my back, his fingertips grazing my skin as he undid each strap. I felt my

bodice loosen, and clasped my breasts to prevent my dress from falling as I turned around to face him.

I meant to thank him, but before I could say anything at all, he said, “Did anyone mention the mark?"

He traced it with his finger, the feeling of his skin on mine sending a thrill of heat through me.

“I'm sure people saw."

“And what do you think they'll say?"

“I don't really care," I whispered, closing my eyes as he continued to run his touch over my mark, then

my collarbone.

“That's a first," he breathed, a hint of mirth in his voice.

“Thank you for helping me with my dress. You can go now." I set my jaw, staring up into his eyes. My

body was screaming for him not to go. But my heart and my mind were fighting over what was right.

We'd broken up, right? There was a reason for that. Xander hadn't told me the whole truth. Not even a

sliver of it. We'd gone to the wedding together, technically, even though I'd spent the majority of the

reception with my friends and then on the beach with him and Charlie.

But after everything that had happened, and everything he now knew about me, he was still here,

standing only inches away from me, wanting me.

And not because I was a White Queen, at least almost. I knew him well enough to know he didn't just

want me to gain access to my powers. There was something else there, something true, something

real.

“How would this work?" I asked, knowing he'd understand the meaning.

He was looking at the mark, tracing it like he was in some sort of trance. He met my eye, the flakes of

amber around his irises faintly yellow in the moonlight, like little sparks of fire against dark, endless

night.

“I don't know," he answered, then tilted his head to the side to get a better view of my face. “But it

sounds like we have a few weeks to come up with something."

“You rule in an entirely different realm–"

“We'll figure it out," he interrupted, holding his hand out to silence me then reaching down to run the

back of knuckles along my jaw.

The fire in his touch ignited that spark within me that only he had access too. I swallowed, working

against the lump in my throat as I held his gaze.

He brushed a kiss against my cheek, the tip of my nose, and the edge of my jaw. His breath tickled my

ear and neck as his lips lingered on my skin, sending little sparks of heat rippling over my body. I

closed my eyes as his lips met mine in the gentleness, briefest kiss.

Then, he kissed me fully, his tongue grazing my lower lip in a bid to open up to him, to let him in–to

trust him.

And I did.

I kissed him back with as much fervor as he had shown me, and in a matter of seconds he'd pulled my

dress down, freeing my breasts from the fabric. I sighed low in my throat as his hands caressed my

breasts, kneading them against his palms as he backed me up against the bed.

I ripped at his shirt, little tortoise shell buttons shooting this way, and that way, pinging off the far wall.

He chuckled, arching a brow as he yanked hard on my bodice, ripping it open at seams. I sucked in my

breath in surprise, but before I could protest the destruction of my dress, he lifted me up, holding me by

my bottom and then tossing me onto the bed.

“I'll buy you a new one," he growled as he pulled the remains of the dress down over my thighs. The

silken fabric grazed my naked skin, sending a rush of heat through my core and belly.

My breasts were bare and fully exposed to him, dusted with the moonlight drifting through the open

door leading out onto the balcony. I was wearing lacy red lingerie, however, the same color as my

dress, and garters around my upper thighs to hold up the sheer silk stockings that covered my calves.

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes drifting down from my navel to the tip of my toes.

“Now, who were you wearing all of this for?" he asked, his voice gravely and dripping with desire.

“For you," I breathed, my breath catching in my throat as he slid a finger under one of the garters and

pulled it, snapping it back against my skin.

He was out of his pants in a split second, climbing on top of me and covering my neck and chest in

kisses. I arched my back, desperate for him, for the feeling of his heated skin on my bare breast and

his touch between my legs. He pulled my panties to the side, and in a single thrust, sheathed himself to

the hilt.

I cried out, panting as my nails bit into his skin. I held onto him for dear life, tangling my fingers in his

hair as he moved within me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I love you," he whispered against my mouth, sucking on my lower lip as I cried out in ecstasy.

I believed him. I knew that he did. And part of me was okay with this being the only way he could show

me that love.

We'd been playing this game for months; making up, f*****g, breaking up again. If I was going back to

Mirage, well, at least I'd have this night to look back on and cherish, whatever may come next.

“I love you, too," I said against his neck as his movements slowed and became more deliberate. He

was taking his sweet time, and soon I was riding another wave of pleasure that shot from my core all

the way down to my toes, making them curl.

We could have been at it for hours, I didn't know. But eventually, I closed my eyes with my head resting

against his arm and his body curled around mine. Neither of us slept deeply, not with the thrum of the

party still sending vibrations through the floor. Every once in a while he'd speak, lingering on the edge

of sleep, and give me some idea or option about how we could possibly be together, for real–for life.

The stars were still out in full when Xander finally drifted into sleep, but I remained awake, lost in the

scent of him and the feeling of his skin against my cheek.

There was a soft rustling outside the door, and then a scratch, then another. Xander stirred, turning his

head to look over at the door.

A whine sounded through the room, and I sat straight up in bed, nearly elbowing Xander in the face as I

threw off the cover.

“Oh, no! Poor thing, I didn't even think–" Grabbing my robe, I padded over to the door as Xander sat up

in surprise, his eyes trailing my movements. I opened the door to the darkened hallway, and Xander

sucked in his breath.

“What the hell is that?" he asked, eyes wide as the desperately old dog limped into the room, his lean

silver body curved with age.

“This is Duck," I said matter-of-factly as I patted Duck on the head.

His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he leaned against my leg, his large eyes glassy with

cataracts.

“Duck?"

“Yes–"

“How old is that thing?" Xander said in surprise, sitting up a little straighter as I gently scooped Duck

into my arms and carried him to bed. Xander's brows furrowed as Duck sniffed his toes, then turned his

narrow face in Xander's direction.

'Who?' Duck said into my mind, and I smiled, patting Xander's ankle.

As far as I knew, only Maeve, my mother, and I could mind-link with Duck. It was some odd, rare ability

from what I understood.

“A friend. It's alright, you can lay down–" I said aloud.

Duck did as he was told, but kept a careful eye on Xander as I slid back into the bed. “He's older than

me," I said softly.

Xander narrowed his eyes. “How old?"

“I don't actually know. I don't think anyone is totally sure. Twenty-three or four, maybe–"

“You're telling me there's a twenty-four-year-old dog in our bed right now?"

“My bed, first of all. And I'm willing to bet he's been looking for a quiet place and a warm body to sleep

next to all night."

Xander relaxed a little, looking down at Duck with an air of sympathy. He hesitantly reached out and

patted Duck on the head.

“I've never seen a dog this close up before," he admitted as he laid back down.

“He's been through hell and back," I replied, my eyes feeling heavy. I removed my robe and slid back

under the covers.

Duck was curled in a ball between us, his long greyhound tail tucked beneath his chin.

I was unable to hold my eyes open much longer as sleep crept up my legs and belly. Xander reached

out and stroked my cheek, a soft smile touching his face.

Sometime later, my eyes drifted open to soft early morning sunlight. I looked over at Xander and smiled

to myself before exhaling and closing my eyes once more. Xander had his arm around Duck, holding

the dog to his chest, the two of them snoring softly as golden rays of light dusted their cheeks.

Happy, that's what this was. That's what I felt. I was at peace, and I had the one thing that truly

mattered to me in my bed. We'd talk about things later… about Crimson Creek, about our future.

Whatever came next… well, I was ready. But I was going to sleep a little longer.

Just a bit longer.