Stone-Hearted Alpha by Eve Bale

Chapter Fifteen

The next day I’m no closer to figuring anything out, and I’m still not fighting to hold back my excitement at the thought of getting away to Paris and building a new life for myself. This is because there isn’t any. Excitement, that is.

I lay with my back to Jeremy, staring at the wall, wide awake, but not ready to turn to face him yet or even to move.

When Jeremy wraps his arm around my waist and hauls me flush against him, I fight back my moan at how good it feels—how good it always feels—when he does it.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmurs against my hair.

For one second, I freeze because I guess he must know.

Maybe he took a sneaky peek at my phone while I was sleeping. I mean, he did say he charged it while I was sleeping. Which means there was nothing to stop him from scrolling through all my messages.

But he couldn’t have, I tell myself since all the messages were still unread.

“You hear me, sweet?”

“I heard you.” But I don’t turn around. I don’t move.

I still haven’t replied to Paulo’s message about Paris, and I’m going to need to do it soon because he needs to make preparations. I need to make preparations.

I could’ve replied after Jeremy and I had a shower together and he was busy ordering room service, but evidently, I thought napping followed by another round of sex was more important than securing my future.

And the sex.

The sex has got to stop.

Already I’m struggling to imagine what my life will be like without Jeremy in it, and I have no doubt it’s because of our mate bond strengthening.

I have to stop having sex with Jeremy.

Yet even as I’m thinking it, his hand glides along my belly and angles down.

“Jeremy, what are you doing?” I gasp, grabbing at his hand a touch desperately.

“Getting you to talk,” he murmurs.

“By putting my hand between my legs?” I lose the battle to stop Jeremy from touching me. Though if I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t think I was trying all that hard to begin with. It was a half-hearted attempt at best.

He kisses my neck, distracting me, and when he glides a finger against me, I jump.

“Screaming’s a form of talking.”

As I’m trying to process his words, he dips a finger inside me, making me moan. “Jeremy, stop.”

He presses another kiss on my throat, softer now, as his finger continues to brush against me.

I moan again, a needier sound, and against my ass, I feel him getting harder.

My desperation grows, because I know if I don’t put a stop to this right now, it’s going to end one way.

“So you’re saying you don’t want me to touch you? You don’t want me to slide my cock inside a pussy I know would welcome me in right this second?”

I hesitate.

Come on. I’m human, okay.

“Savannah?” Jeremy’s voice is a low growl against my skin and has me ready to demand he fucks me. Yet somehow, I find the determination to shake my head.

What can I say? What can I say to get him to stop? Think. Think. Think.

“My side hurts,” I blurt. Briefly, I shut my eyes after my big, fat lie.

His finger stops brushing against me, and he lifts his hand away.

I focus on wiping all expression off my face as Jeremy shifts me until I’m on my back. For several seconds, he does nothing but stare down into my face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice is low, and the guilt I see stirring in his eyes has me forcing my gaze away.

“Savannah!” he snaps, making me jerk my eyes back to him. “Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?”

When I see the anger in his eyes is directed at himself instead of me, my guilt multiplies by a factor of a hundred.

As if lying to his face wasn’t bad enough, I make him think he hurt me? There’s a special place in hell for people like me, I’m sure of it.

I start to tell him the truth. Only, before I can, Jeremy’s phone rings.

Jeremy rolls over and grabs it from the side table before lying on his back to answer it with a snarl. “What now, Jackson?”

He’s on the phone, Savannah. Now is the time to make your escape.

But of course, like an idiot, I turn to my side and watch him on the phone.

He’s still angry, and his anger increases when the guy who sounds like he could be Jeremy’s brother, tells him to hold off on our plan to go to the Merrick land.

We were going back? What for?

I have so many questions. Like, who’s Jackson? Is he the shaggy-haired shifter who saved me at the hotel? Or is he a brother Jeremy’s never mentioned before?

I frown as I consider that. Surely Jeremy would’ve told me he had a brother, especially if he was in Dawley. Wouldn’t he?

Then there’s the money. How is Jeremy able to afford this hotel and buying the Merrick land? What about his life in Chicago? Surely, he has furniture and more clothes there. Is he having all of his things shipped here?

When I met him in Chicago, he never gave off the impression of being wealthy, and he still doesn’t. He’s just like any normal guy. Normal apartment, normal clothing brands, nothing cheap but nothing expensive either.

But he drinks expensive whiskey, and he ordered one of the best wines on the menu after a brief scan of the wine menu at the restaurant.

Who is Jeremy Stone and why am I so fascinated by him?

As if Jeremy feels the weight of my attention, he turns his head to me as he continues his conversation, still flat on his back. Now that he’s got his snarling out of his system, he seems content to listen to Jackson talk about the Merrick land.

He’s so attractive to me. Everything I see, I like. Well, except for some facets of his personality, but his face, his body, the way he studies me with absolute focus, it calls to me.

The longer I examine him, the more Jeremy’s expression softens. When he reaches out and brushes a finger over my lips, I don’t stop him.

I lean forward and press a soft kiss on his lips, and then his jaw, his throat.

He makes a soft sound in his throat that has me wanting him to make other sounds. So, like some kind of sex-starved creature, I completely ignore my plans to stop having sex with Jeremy and start kissing my way down his chest instead.

I feel his hand combing through my hair, and assuming this is a sign he wants me to keep going, I do.

His skin tastes so good. I kiss a lazy path down his defined muscles, feel them tense as I work myself lower until I’m lying with his cock in front of my face and the sheets are somewhere down the bottom of the bed.

I glance up.

Jeremy’s grip on the phone is so tight, I take a second to wonder if it’s going to survive much longer.

Our eyes connect, and without looking away, I close my hand around the base of his cock and bend my head to press a soft kiss at the very tip.

A fine tremble warns me of the tension racing through him. This time I’m not so gentle. I part my lips and take him in my mouth, alternating sucking and lapping at his tip.

His hips jerk as he thrusts reflexively against me, and closing my eyes, I use my hand to stroke up and down him as I try to take as much of him in my mouth as I can.

Even though Jeremy isn’t touching me, I moan at how good it makes me feel to touch and taste him. He’s like a drug and I want more of him.

I lose track of time as I take him deeper and deeper into my mouth. All the while, the hand in my hair, stroking, tugging, brushing the strands back from my face, becomes increasingly desperate.

I slide my hand down the base of Jeremy’s cock to cup him in my hand. He makes a choking sound in response. Once he’s released his tight grip on my hair, I hold my breath and swallow him so deep, the tip of him tickles the back of my throat.

From somewhere above, a crunching sound followed by a thump on the floor announces the death of Jeremy’s phone. But before I can lift my head to see, Jeremy has both hands combing through my hair as he groans my name.

“Fuck, Savannah, you have to stop. I’m going to come.”

I draw my head up, slowly releasing him, and lap at the salty liquid spilling from the tip.

“So, come,” I murmur, as I prepare to swallow him again.

I have no memory of how he does it, but between one moment and the next, I’m under Jeremy and his hands are gripping my hips.

I blink up at him in surprise. “Uh, how did I—”

Jeremy lowers his head and gives me the most desperate, hungry kiss I’ve ever had in my life. It’s so potent, I feel the impact of it right between my legs.

Who knew you could come from a kiss? Because a kiss like this? It’ll do it.

He lifts his head.

For a second, I’m sure he’s going to speak, but he doesn’t, just gazes down at me. His hands tighten on my hips and with a gentleness I’m not used to from Jeremy, he buries himself inside me.

While I’m not against gentle, something about him makes me so hungry that more often than not, it’s not enough. I always want more. I want hard. I want fast. I want it all, and now.

Instead of demanding more, I lift one leg and wrap it around his hips, so he sinks deeper into me.

“Jeremy,” I moan.

He lowers his head and brushes a soft kiss against my lips. “Shhh, baby.” He kisses me again, longer this time, as he strokes himself inside me. “Let me love you like this.”

My eyelids flutter closed, and my head falls back as we find the perfect rhythm. Our pleasure, a slow building, simmering thing, builds and builds.

There’s no urgency, no rush to get to the end. There’s only the bliss of our bodies moving with perfect harmony with each other.

I moan at each joining of our bodies, and the sound of Jeremy’s low groans against my lips has me clinging to him all the harder.

Finally, I grab at Jeremy’s shoulders as he tilts my hips the tiniest degree. The base of his cock rubs against my clit and I shatter with a sharp cry.

As I’m shuddering, Jeremy drives into me one last time. He groans and holds himself tight against me until I feel the hot spill of his release filling me.

With the same ease that he moved me before, Jeremy shifts us until we’re lying side-by-side. I sigh and burrow into his warm body, our lips meeting in a lingering kiss that’s more sweet than needy until my eyelids are heavy with the need to sleep.

I’m drifting off with my face pressed against Jeremy’s throat when reality rears its ugly head. I just had sex with Jeremy. Again.

My eyes snap open.

Fuck, the mate bond.