Heir to the Alpha Universe: Date With the Alpha

I found myself standing at the threshold of Christopher’s private quarters, my skin tingling with a nervous energy that flickered like a flame dancing in the wind. The door seemed heavier than usual, as if it too understood the weight of the moment. I’d been here before, called upon as the pack’s doctor, all business, no room for personal feelings.

But tonight, the vibe was different. It was intimate. Personal.

Ever since our last kiss, there had been this electric tension between us, an invisible force drawing us together even when we’re apart. Was it just a passing infatuation for him? Or was it something more profound, something neither of us was ready to confront?

Taking a deep, calming breath, I stepped inside, the soft echo of my heels clicking against the polished wooden floors. The hallway was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of wood and spice. It was as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation.

Christopher was seated at the head of the table, his presence dominating the room. He wasn’t dressed for a formal dinner, though—his white shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest, clung to his broad shoulders, and his dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d been running his hands through it in restless thought.

A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, golden light over his chiseled features, making his blue eyes glow with something deeper, more primal. When our eyes met, it felt like time froze, the air between us charged with electricity. His gaze darkened, piercing me as if he could see right into my soul.

“Scarlett,” he said, his voice low, the smooth timbre curling around my name like a caress. It wasn’t just a greeting—it was an invitation. “I’m glad you came.”

“Alpha,” I responded, but my voice was far less steady, my heart already pounding in my chest. The memories of our last encounter wrapped around me, thick like smoke, clouding my mind and quickening my pulse. I knew better than to think this was just a casual dinner.

He rose slowly, every movement calculated, like a predator circling its prey. That familiar, devastating smirk curled at the corner of his lips, sending a rush of heat through my veins. My mind was flooded with the memories of those lips on every inch of my body, all the pleasure he gave me, and it made me lose my breath.

”You don’t have to call me Alpha tonight,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper as he closed the distance between us. “Just Christopher.”

My heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air. The way he said my name, like he was savoring it… I could feel the heat of him before he even touched me, the tension between us thickening with each passing second.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, but the pull between us was suffocating. “You summoned me.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through me. “If summoning you is what it takes, then I’ll keep doing it.” His voice was laced with an undercurrent of intent, his eyes gleaming as his hand brushed against mine, the fleeting touch sending a jolt through my entire body.

His fingers lingered for a moment longer before he handed me a glass of red wine. “I remember you liked red.”

The warmth of his touch clung to the glass as I took it, my fingers trembling slightly. I forced a smile. “I do,” I replied softly, taking a sip, letting the rich liquid coat my tongue. “Though I don’t know much about wine. I trust your taste.”

A wicked gleam lit up his eyes as he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I like that you trust my taste,” he said, his breath warm against my skin. “Because right now, my favorite taste is you.”

Before I could respond, his hand was at the back of my neck, pulling me toward him in one swift, seamless motion. His lips crashed against mine, all hunger and heat, and I was lost. The world outside faded, swallowed up by the intensity of him, of us. My body responded instinctively, melting into his touch, my hands gripping the soft fabric of his shirt as our tongues moved in a slow, tantalizing dance.

His fingers worked deftly at the buttons of my blouse, each one falling open with agonizing slowness, revealing more and more of my skin to the cool air. His mouth left a trail of fire as he kissed down my jaw, then lower, sending shivers through me. My breaths came faster, and I could already feel the slick heat pooling between my thighs.

“Christopher,” I gasped, my voice a breathless plea against his lips. “What about dinner?”

He paused, his lips hovering over the sensitive skin of my neck, and then he smiled, that irresistible, cocky smile. “You’re right. Let’s have dinner first.” He stepped back, his eyes never leaving mine, and walked to the head of the table. He pulled out the chair, sitting down with his legs spread wide, slapping his lap twice. “Actually, I’m going to serve you tonight.”

My breath hitched. I blinked, momentarily stunned by the audacity of it, but there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze. “Come, Scarlett. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in his voice—soft yet commanding—ignited a fire within me, and before I could stop myself, I was moving toward him, every step charged with anticipation.

“I do,” I whispered as I sank into his lap, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath me. His hands slid up my thighs, his touch firm, possessive, as he adjusted me in place, then his hands went to my hair, placing it behind my shoulders, leaving my neck visible.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good. Now, relax…and let me take care of you.”

His words sent a shiver through me. He reached for the plate, his fingers brushing over the edge as he picked up a forkful of risotto. The aroma—rich, earthy, and indulgent—filled my senses as he brought it to my lips.

“This is a gorgonzola risotto with flambéed walnuts and pears. It’s not for eating, it’s for tasting.” He slowly brought the fork to my mouth, and my lips opened almost involuntarily for him. Even though it looked like dinner, it was all so absurdly sexy that my heart raced in my chest. I bit into the portion of risotto and felt all the strong flavors mixed on my tongue. It was an explosion of flavors that I wasn’t expecting.

“Now, close your eyes,” he ordered, and I needed to tease him.

“Always so commanding, aren’t you?” I said, arching one of my eyebrows.

“You’ve always had a taste for it,” he said, a playful smirk on his face.

I complied, parting my lips to let the warm, velvety risotto melt on my tongue, its flavors exploding—robust, savory, sweet with a subtle hint of bitterness.

Before I could fully relish the taste, he brought the wine glass to my lips, tilting it just enough for the rich, dark liquid to mingle with the risotto’s flavors.

A soft moan escaped my lips as the wine amplified the risotto’s taste, sending a wave of warmth coursing through my body.

He leaned in, his breath a teasing warmth against my ear.

“Easy, darling. You’ll have plenty of reasons to moan today,” Christopher murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr.

“You can swallow now.”

I did as he said, his command laced with allure, and he began to kiss my neck, each touch sending shivers rippling down my spine.

I let out a slow breath, a whirlwind of anticipation and confusion stirring within me.

“I can’t think straight like this,” I whispered, shifting onto his lap, my eyes still shut, lost in the heady sensations he was stirring within me.

“It’s not about thinking, just feeling. Keep your eyes closed,” he directed, his voice a calming salve.

He closed his legs, positioning me perfectly in the hollow of his lap, my body instinctively reacting to the undeniable warmth radiating from beneath me.

A wet sound echoed in the room, tempting me to peek, but before I could, I felt the startling cold of an ice cube pressed against my neck.

The contrast sent waves of sensation through me, and I squirmed, but Christopher quickly covered the cold spot with his warm mouth, his tongue setting my skin ablaze, leaving me in a blissful daze as soft moans slipped from my lips.

His kisses trailed from my neck to my cleavage, each brush of his lips sparking a feverish desire within me.

I could barely contain myself; I yearned for him—inside me.

“Please, Christopher,” I whispered, my voice quivering with desire.

“Please what, Scarlett?” he teased, his lips still tracing the delicate curve of my neck.

“I need you,” I admitted, my eyes fluttering open just in time to catch the playful twinkle in his eyes as he turned me around, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.