Free Alpha by Rachel Vincent

he’d understand. “I know how he feels. He wants to show me how he feels about me, and you don’t. You won’t . I miss you, and missing you is so much harder when I can still see you, and hear you, and smell you, but you won’t touch me. You hardly ever even look at me unless you’re too pissed off to avoid it, and I can’t tell if you still want me, or if you just want to make me pay for what I did.”
    â€œYou slept with someone else!” Marc whirled around and punched the wall of the shed, and his knuckles came away bloody. “Hell, yeah, I want you to pay! I want you both to pay. How am I supposed to look at you after you’ve been with him? Knowing you still want to be with him? I’m in the right here, Faythe. You screwed up—you screwed him —and I’m paying for it.”
    â€œI’m sorry…”
    â€œSorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killingme. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.”
    I swiped tears from my cheeks with cold, shaking fingers. “What do you want me to do?”
    â€œI want you to be sorry enough to tell him to go get his thrills on top of someone else’s girlfriend. I want you to swear I’m the only one you want, and the only one you’ll ever want, and that you’ll never even look at anyone else again. I want you to want me, Faythe. As much as I want you.”
    â€œI do want you. I never stopped wanting you.” I couldn’t hold back the tears, and my words were halting half sobs. “This isn’t about you….”
    â€œWell, it should be!” he shouted, and I flinched. “Everything I do is about you, and I want the reverse to be true, too.” I wiped more tears, my throat aching with words that would only make this worse. “What, you need a reminder? That’s what he was doing, right? And now you smell like him. You probably taste like him. You should taste like me. …”
    He was on me before I could even catch my breath, his mouth bruising mine, and after that, breathing didn’t seem so important. Marc pressed me into the wall of the shed, his hands on either side of my shoulders. He kissed me like it had been years, rather than days. Like he was reminding us both.
    My body responded without consulting my brain, and I clutched at him, pulling him closer. I’d missed him so much.
    His lips trailed down my neck and his hands wandered beneath my shirt, claiming. Demanding. He pulled away just long enough to tug my tee over my head. Myshirt hit the dusty shed floor, and my bra landed on top of it an instant later.
    His mouth fed from mine, his tongue slid between my lips as his hands explored territory I’d thought abandoned. Then he dropped into a squat, leaving my mouth cold and empty, and lifted first my right foot, then my left, to pull my boots off. He dropped a trail of hot kisses down my stomach. I gasped when he tugged my jeans button free, but Marc was silent. Eager, but still angry.
    I almost lost my balance when he shoved my pants and underwear down with both hands, then tugged them free and slid them across the floor with one foot. He unbuttoned his own pants and pushed them halfway down, then lifted me and held me against the cold wall with his own body.
    He slid inside me completely with one stroke, and I had to wrap my arms around his neck for balance. This was not gentle, tender sex. This was desperate