The Alpha’s Wrong Marriage: What He Never Knew

Ivy

I was certain tonight wasn't a full moon, but Gabriel was out of his mind.

He'd already brought me to climax three times and still showed no sign of stopping—from the living room to the bedroom, and finally the bathroom.

Our mingled pheromones trailed behind us like a scent-map of everywhere we'd been, saturating every room with the thick musk of sex.

The bathroom mirror had fogged over completely. Beads of condensation gathered and slid down the glass in slow, winding trails—just like the involuntary tears streaming from the corners of my eyes.

My hands gripped the rim of the bathtub, knuckles white. With every thrust from behind, my body rocked forward and snapped back, strung taut as a fully drawn bow.

My wolf—Rita—was rolling and moaning ecstatically through my mindscape, wild with pleasure.

She loved this kind of aggressive, all-consuming sex. So did I, if I was being honest.

But I'd never had the chance to discover that about myself before.

Because in three years of marriage, Gabriel had never once lost control like this.

He was always restrained, always measured—a knight who never broke code. He treated me the way one might handle a priceless piece of porcelain: beginning with the gentlest of kisses, entering my body with almost ceremonial deliberation, rarely speaking a word throughout. He'd hardly ever taken me outside the bedroom. And every encounter seemed calculated down to the date, timed with clinical precision.

I didn't know whether that was simply how a top-tier Alpha's mind worked—that instinct to plan everything, to stay vigilant about everything.

But I suspected he'd been using it to make sure I never conceived his child.

I was Gabriel's chosen mate.

The irony wasn't lost on me. An Omega with my kind of appeal—I'd assumed the whole point of being marked by him was to serve as arm candy or a broodmare.

Because one thing had always been crystal clear between us: love was a word neither of us had ever spoken.

But tonight, he'd truly lost his mind.

He was like a beast that had been caged too long, finally free of its chains.

Every thrust carried a ferocity that bordered on desperation.

"Look at me, Ivy."

His voice was low, raw, ragged with heavy breaths.

From behind, he seized my jaw and wrenched my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Tell me—who am I?"

He pressed close, almost obsessively, and dragged his tongue across the tears at the corner of my eye.

I was forced upright, my hands clinging to the hard, tensed muscles of his hips and lower back. His cock drove even deeper. I could feel all that coiled power trembling inside the soft walls of my body, barely leashed.

"Gabriel… you're Gabriel, my Alpha…"

I sobbed out the answer, my legs clamping around him with violent force.

Something fractured behind his eyes when he heard my words—a splintering flash of light.

He lowered his head and buried his face in the hollow of my neck.

That spot—where an Omega's gland lies most vulnerable. Tonight he didn't hold back with his usual restrained kiss. Instead, he parted his lips and latched on, sucking and biting with a hunger that was almost greedy, until the skin bloomed with deep purple marks that belonged to him alone.

He was marking me.

Even though we were already husband and wife under the law. Even though I had belonged to him countless times before. Tonight he conducted it like a sacred, desperate ritual—as if he needed to brand every inch of my skin, every strand of my hair, with his scent.

"I'm coming again, Gabriel…"

When that tidal wave of pleasure surged once more, I couldn't help but throw my head back with a broken whimper.

I begged him not to pull away. I clenched around him with every ounce of strength I had, craving a deeper union.

He must have sensed I was at my limit. His large hand shot to my lower back and crushed me against him.

Our bodies locked together seamlessly. A rush of warmth was forced out from where we joined, trickling down our intertwined thighs.

Then, the instant he withdrew, the seal broke—like a champagne cork popping free. His release and the slick flood of my own orgasm spilled out together, splashing into the bathtub.

The sound of water and our tangled, ragged breathing filled the room. I collapsed, boneless, sinking back into the tub.

"Incredible, wasn't it? I've always told you—a man only truly loves you when his cock is out of control, his thighs are burning, and he wants to devour you whole like prey."

Rita flopped onto her side in my mindscape, her snow-white fur brushing against the ground as she rolled luxuriously. Happy tears leaked from the corners of her eyes too, and she licked lazily at the fur on her chest between rolls.

"I always knew he'd fall in love with you, even though so many people doubted your marriage from the start. You know how it is—his family, his pack, his rank. He's simply too far above."

I had no energy to indulge Rita's chatter at a moment like this, so I shut down the mental link.

Gabriel was trying to lift me out of the bathtub. His large hands cradled my waist with sudden tenderness, and his lips grazed along my spine—

The nape of my neck and the ridges of my shoulder blades were my most sensitive places. The mere whisper of his breath across them made my body clench involuntarily, a fresh tide stirring between my legs.

"Ivy."

Gabriel's voice came from behind me, quiet and deliberate. He said my name.

"Mm…"

I was too spent to move even a finger. I let myself melt against his chest.

We lay like that in the tub, wrapped around each other. The water came just high enough to lap at my breasts, which were flushed a rosy pink.

I sat in his lap and finally felt his cock softening, little by little, returning to rest.

But I didn't dare wonder whether, after a brief reprieve, it would rally for another round—just as I'd thought it was over two hours ago, the first time he'd pinned me to the dining table in the living room and made me come until I shook.

"Did you enjoy that?"

Gabriel's arms circled me gently. He pinched a wet strand of my golden hair between his thumb and forefinger, toying with it.

I let out a long breath. "It was amazing, Gabriel. There were moments I thought I was going to die…"

"I should have put in the effort sooner."

He braced his arms and eased me upward, preparing to carry me out of the tub.

The feeling of skin against skin brought a sense of security I'd never experienced before—yet beneath it lurked a nameless unease.

"It's not too late. Next time, you could tell me what you like—how you want it."

I turned to face him, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw.

He looked at me. Those grey-blue eyes—deep as the ocean. His fingertip traced the curve of my lower lip.

"There won't be a next time, Ivy. This was my goodbye. We're done."

Perhaps what makes human nature more complicated than the wolf's is this: you can never predict the moment when reason will crush feeling beneath its heel.

He had proposed to me when we were dressed to the nines. Now he asked for a divorce while we stood skin to skin.

There I was, naked in the bathtub, staring straight into his eyes.

And in those fathomless depths, I saw the truth of myself—stripped bare in every possible way, my dignity in pieces.

"Isabella is back, Ivy."

Gabriel delivered the words, then turned away first and reached for his clothes.

"She's my Fated Mate. You know as well as I do—a wolf cannot fight that instinct. These three years… thank you for being here."