The Alpha's Unwanted Luna (by Miss L) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

90 – Ryker

I press my forehead gently against hers, my breath coming in heavy, uneven gasps. I’m not sure what just overwhelmed me, but my entire body trembles with the aftershocks. It feels as though my soul has momentarily slipped free from my body, leaving me dazed and disoriented.

“See? Nothing to fear,” she whispers softly, her fingers playing tenderly with the hair at the nape of my neck. “That was incredible.”

“There’s still plenty to be afraid of,” I murmur, my voice rough, “but I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to hold onto this moment with you. It’s still… amazing.” I haven’t pulled away from her yet, savoring the fluttering sensations radiating from her body as we breathe in sync. I press her firmly against the wall, leaning most of my weight into her, with no intention of moving anytime soon.

“The bathtub’s about to overflow,” she giggles, breaking the silence. I groan in response, realizing I have to relent.

“Fine,” I mutter, sliding slowly out of her embrace, reluctant to lose the warmth between us. “Mmm, we’re definitely not finished for tonight.” My wolf agrees wholeheartedly—locking her away in the bedroom sounds like the perfect plan for the foreseeable future.

“Absolutely not,” she says firmly. “Now that I’ve broken you, I’m going to break you in. But first, you need a bath, and we can’t wreck another room.”

I’ve never been cared for like this—never let any woman touch me with such tenderness—and I’m savoring every second. I’m grateful we waited for each other, for our mate. Once my mind starts to clear, I know I need to tell her what this means to me.

Just as my eyelids begin to grow heavy, she shifts, and I grumble softly until she settles into my lap, facing me, and starts working on my chest. I sit still, arms resting on the tub’s edge, watching her with fascination. Her focused expression is endearing, yet there’s a distant look in her eyes, as if she’s lost in her own thoughts. I’ve noticed she sometimes drifts like this when she thinks no one is watching.

I worry silently—have I done something wrong to make her retreat into herself? I want to ask, but I’m afraid of shattering the fragile bubble we’re in. Tentatively, I run my hands up and down her sides as she works, partly because I can’t stop touching her, and partly to remind her she’s not alone.

We sit in that quiet stillness for so long that the silence starts to weigh on me. Just as I open my mouth to ask if she’s alright, she beats me to it.