99 Times for Alpha’s Bestie novel Chapter 180

I had been utterly exhausted, sinking into what I thought would be a dreamless sleep. Then the dream came–a scorching fantasy of a chiselled man with a rock–hard torso sliding my clothes off, devouring me with desperate kisses and rough caresses.

With a greedy flick of my tongue, I locked my legs around his waist. I found myself praying the dream would never end. This was unlocking feelings that Liam couldn’t hope to reach for.

Then a voice cut through the haze, low and velvety and dripping with amusement. “You are pretending to sleep- knew it.”

My eyes flew open, the shock jolting me violently awake. My heart hammered against my ribs; my mind reeled.

Lucien hovered above me, his warm breath washing over my face. His black robe had slipped, revealing every sculpted inch, the elegant column of his throat, those hypnotic collarbones, the godlike abs, and lower.

A horrifying realization dawned.

It wasn’t a dream!

Did it actually happen? Did I really kiss him, and claw at him, and–my train of thought screeched to a halt.

No. This could not be real. If I closed my eyes and went back to sleep, maybe it would all be gone. Yes, that’s exactly what I will do, and then I won’t have to acknowledge my embarrassing, desperate behaviour.

clapped my hands over my eyes, collapsing back against the pillows, desperate to hide

der the covers from this humiliating truth. A firm grip seized my wrists, yanking me upright.

Lucien’s palm pressed firmly against the small of my back as he pried my shielding hands away.

“Claire, you took liberties with me, and now you think sleep will get you away scot–free?”

I peeked through my lashes, my gaze involuntarily darting downward before darting away in acute embarrassment.

“I am just–exhausted,” I stammered, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I raised a hand to massage my temple, a feeble attempt to ground myself.

“Tired, you say? Then how about we sleep together? I am also tired“, he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

“What? No!” My eyes flew open wide, my head shaking vehemently. “Do not joke about such a thing, Lucien!”

“You kissed me, felt me up, and even pulled my clothes off, all under the guise of sleep. If anything, I was a victim. I’m too shaken up to leave now.” His voice dropped to a smoky whisper as his thumb traced my lower lip, “What do you propose we do now?”

My pupils dilated. Wasn’t that question just a form of foreplay?

“Teasing aside, I will leave if you tell me to, Claire. I won’t pressure you, but I need you to be honest about what you want. So tell me, should I go, or stay?”

My chest heaved violently as my mind warred with itself.

Was he saying he didn’t want to leave? That tonight we would share this bed?

“Do not you dare stop, Luci,” I breathed.

Feeling him pull back, I surged forward, crushing my lips to his with desperate need. I could fol every taut muscle, the briefest hesitation in his touch.

We rolled across the sheets, limbs entwined, fingers laced tightly, all reason abandoned to the night.

Pale moonlight spilled through the window, pooling on the cold floor where our discarded clothes lay tangled, steaming with damp heat. Our phones pressed together on the nightstand, one screen flickering on and off in silent witness.

I grounded my hips, thrusting my pelvis against his hard erection. I trembled on the brink of surrender, until suddenly-.

“Claire, you need to stop! Get a grip on yourself.” Lucien’s words were like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, shocking my system with his sudden rejection.

He slammed on the brakes, right at that heart–stopping moment.

I had already braced myself, thinking to hell with the consequences and that I should stop playing it safe and let myself go with the flow. Then everything froze solid.

The weight of him vanished as Lucien bolted for the bathroom like a man dodging daggers, moving so fast he was nothing but a blur. The door crashed shut behind him with a thunderous bang, the violence of it screaming of his unravelling control.

clutched the blanket around my bare shoulders and gaped at the distorted outline of his Dad–shouldered frame behind the fogged glass, my eyes wide as saucers.

Sudden shame and rejection weighed me down, pinning me in that one spot, unsure how to proceed. What did I do wrong?