Page 55 of Alpha Ruined
“Cole,” she huffs. She thrashes on the bed, humping her hand desperately, wishing it was his cock.
Wishing it was Cole’s knot, inflating and stuffing her into place.
He would talk her through it, she just knows it. That sinful mouth would tell her how tight, how wet, howgoodshe feels.
She comes harder than she did in his arms, lifting her hips as slick soaks her hand and bursts out of her, her juices pulsing across the room and soaking part of the blankets and the wall.
She doesn’t bother muffling her scream. She arches her back and cries out in pleasure, her muscles trembling as her cunt throbs around her hand.
When it’s finally over, white spots dance across her vision and she gasps for air.
There’s a mess to clean up, but for now, she feels marginally better. Her heart still hurts, and loneliness eats at her, but the rush of the orgasm gives her temporary relief from yesterday’s events.
She’s too tired to get up. She’ll wash her hands and clean off the wall in the morning.
Sleep claims her, and if she feels the sensation of a tongue running across her fingers, she’s sure it was part of a dream.
Maybe she didn’t make as muchof a mess as she thought.
Once she wakes in the morning, the sun bright and shining in her eyes, she’s unable to find any stain on the wall.
Which is a good sign, because she can’t imagine the horror of receiving a cleaning charge from the property.
She also can’t find her underwear, which she swears she kicked off and should be at the foot of the bed.
Cole’s scent still lingers on her, even after she showers. Her mating gland is desperate for his attention, but she ignores the needy cries of her inner Omega.
She’s never been scent marked before, but there must be a special body wash she can buy to scrub him offher.
Guilt eats at her for how she shoved Cole away coldly and caused a scene.
At least now he’ll stay away from her, though.
She’ll just have to ignore his scent until it fades away, and she can forget about him
Her interview with Doctor Porter is only a few days away, and once it’s over, she can go back to her boring life in Holden.
But she opens up her emails when she’s in the office and her stomach drops.
Doctor Porter emailed her earlier in the morning, asking to reschedule their interview to next week.
“Shit,” she hisses, running a hand through her hair as she reads her computer screen.
He wants to move it one whole week from Friday, but she only rented the cabin until Saturday.
Of course, she could conduct the interview over video, but that would defeat the purpose of why she’s here.
This trip was pointless.
Tears of frustration spring in the corners of her eyes. This week is turning into an absolute mess as she starts to type out a response email.
But a notification pops up on her screen just as she begins.
It’s from the property manager of the cabin.
She reads it, then rereads it, not believing or understanding her luck.
Hello Breana,