Chosen by the Beast Alpha

Chapter 81: Chapter 81

Lena’s POV

She wasn’t surprised. Obviously, Eliza would call at a time like this. That part was basically a given.

What did catch her off guard was that after Dominic ended the call, he didn’t leave. He turned around and saw her watching him.

"Going to sleep?" he asked.

Lena pressed her lips together and nodded.

He walked over, took hold of her arm, and tried to pull her up. But she didn’t move. She just sat there like a corpse, still and stubborn, tilting her face up at him.

"What?" he said.

"Hold me."

His jaw tightened. He let go of her arm. The two of them stared at each other, neither willing to budge, the air between them thick enough to choke on.

"I kissed you," she said flatly. "The least you can do is carry me to bed."

He looked at her like she was the most unreasonable person on the planet. Totally impossible. And then, fighting every instinct in his body, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Lena wrapped her arms around his neck, a smug little smile tugging at her lips. He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the mattress.

But her arms stayed locked around his neck. He leaned over her, both hands braced on the bed, unable to straighten up even if he wanted to.

"I forgot," she said, biting her lip. "I didn’t brush my teeth yet."

He frowned. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"Can you carry me to the bathroom?"

"Lena." There was a warning in his voice now, low and sharp.

"I’m your mate." She tightened her hold around him. "Carrying me to the bathroom is not exactly rocket science."

He swallowed, and she watched the struggle on his face like it was happening in real time. Her gaze drifted lower, to his neck, to the bare strip of skin above his collar, and a sudden hunger rose inside her, hot and wild.

She leaned forward.

Dominic jerked his head back at once, eyes turning sharp. "What are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you again." Lena didn’t even try to hide it.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip, her breathing turning quicker by the second, that restless urge getting harder and harder to hold down.

She leaned in closer. Dominic’s arm hooked around her waist and, in one smooth move, he lifted her right off the bed.

She laughed. "Dominic, are you seriously that scared of me kissing you?"

She could feel how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. He was this close to losing it, and he knew it too.

In three long strides, he carried her into the bathroom and set her down. "Try to get a grip."

"You’re my mate. Why should I?" Lena shot back without blinking. "Dominic, are you not into me, or are you just not into women?"

His eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous. "What?"

"Because if it’s, you know, a performance issue, I’m not going to judge—"

He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.

Not a careful kiss. Not a hesitant one. This kiss was pure want. His lips crushed against hers, his teeth catching her lower lip, his hot breath spilling over her skin.

Lena’s eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him back. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling herself closer, chest pressed to chest, fingers threading into his hair.

His hands dropped to her waist and dragged her tight against him until every hard line of his body was flush with hers.

Her hands moved down to his waist and slipped under the hem of his shirt, palms meeting the warm, solid muscle of his lower back. His body went stiff for one second, then eased, letting her touch him.

He lifted her onto the bathroom counter, his mouth never leaving hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

His fingers found the hem of her shirt and pushed it up, over her head, tossing it aside. Cool air brushed over her bare skin, and she sucked in a breath, her lips still against his.

Her hands were already fumbling at his buttons, quick and impatient, until his shirt hung loose and open. Her palm pressed to the muscle of his chest, and she could feel his heart hammering hard against her hand.

Then he stopped.

His forehead rested against hers. Lena opened her eyes. "What’s wrong?"

Dominic grabbed her shirt off the counter, pulled it back over her head, and tugged it down into place with stiff, mechanical movements.

The heat vanished from his face in a second, replaced by that cold, unreadable look. "We need to stop."

Lena sat on the counter, her chest rising hard. "Why?"

Dominic picked up his shirt and started fastening the buttons, one by one, without looking at her even once.

"Dominic, what the hell are you doing?" Her anger blew up on the spot. Ten seconds ago, his hands and mouth had been all over her, and now he was buttoning his shirt like nothing had happened.

He fastened the last button. "If we keep going, I’ll mark you. I told you before—I won’t do that until you choose me freely."

She just stared at him.

"Lena, if I mark you now, you’ll never be able to tell whether what you feel is real... or just the bond between us."

His voice was tight, almost sharp with anger, but none of it was aimed at her. It was all turned inward, all at himself. "I won’t do that to you."

Then he turned and walked out.

Lena snatched the face wash off the counter and hurled it at his back. "Dominic, you asshole!"

The bottle smacked against the doorframe and bounced back. He didn’t even flinch.

That night, he didn’t come home.

Lena lay in bed, replaying every second over and over like a broken loop. His hands sliding over her skin. His lips pressed to hers. The way his body had reacted to hers—clear as day, impossible to fake, impossible to deny.

And then, just like that, everything went cold.

Such a noble, self-sacrificing, absolutely infuriating reason. He wouldn’t leave a mark on her unless she gave herself willingly.

If it had been Eliza, would he have stopped?

Her fists clenched tight. Her ankle throbbed faintly, and her chest burned like it was full of fire. She tossed and turned, sleep nowhere in sight.

"What an idiot!!" She slammed her fist into the pillow.

If he really had fallen for her, she was going to make him pay for every single one of these sleepless nights.

Dominic’s POV

He was drinking alone when Samuel Clarke found him.

"What happened?" Samuel came over, his gaze dropping straight to the bottle. "Your body’s only just recovered. You seriously can’t keep drinking like this."

Dominic had zero interest in hearing him preach. "How did you even find me?"

"The bar called me. You used to come here whenever you were in a bad mood, and they still had my number." He pulled out a chair and sat down. "So what the hell happened?"

Nothing had happened.

And at the same time, it felt like everything had.

"Weren’t you having barbecue with Lena tonight? Did she push your buttons? Was this about Eliza?"

"No."

That only made Samuel more curious. "Not Eliza, and you’re still this wrecked? Then yeah, this has to be bad."

The bad part was that Dominic had almost lost control. Give it a few more seconds, and he would have marked her. His wolf had been roaring inside him, wild with need, desperate to claim her, to sink his teeth into the elegant curve of her neck and bind them together for good.

And then, right at that last second, he stopped.

He wasn’t mad at Lena. He was mad at himself—mad that things had gotten this far, this fast, this out of hand.

Samuel suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he stared at Dominic’s neck. Then he pulled out his phone, switched on the flashlight, and moved closer.

"What the—" He grabbed Dominic’s collar and tugged it down. "Are those hickeys? Oh my God. That’s a lot. Who did that?"

He looked genuinely stunned. Dominic shoved him away at once. "Back off. Personal space."

"I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never seen a single mark on you. Who was it?" Samuel’s brain was clearly going into overdrive. "Lena?"

He didn’t actually need an answer, because there was no way it was Eliza. There was only one possibility.

"You two..." He trailed off, words failing him for once.

Dominic’s brows pulled together. Samuel shook his head right away. "No. If you’d actually gone through with it, you’d be passed out sleeping right now, not sitting here getting wasted. She turned you down? No, that doesn’t explain..." His eyes flicked back to the marks. "...all that."

Then it hit him.

"You stopped." Samuel’s eyes went wide. "You stopped yourself because you were afraid you’d mark her!"

Dominic said nothing.

"You absolute idiot," Samuel said with a laugh, sounding both disbelieving and weirdly sympathetic. "She was right there, totally willing, wanted you, and you slammed on the brakes because your wolf wanted to mark her and you were too damn noble to let it happen."

"Shut up."

"Nope, not happening. You’re sitting here knocking back whiskey because you did what you thought was right, and it’s wrecking you anyway." Samuel Clarke took off his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes. "So here’s the real question—are you drinking because you stopped, or because deep down you still wanted to keep going?"

I tipped back the glass and drained it in one shot. Samuel Clarke watched me for a long moment, like he was trying to see straight through me. Then he leaned back, propped his feet on the table, and shut his eyes. "And don’t even think about sneaking out."

Silence dropped over the room.

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling, my fingers pressing lightly against the mark on my neck. Her lips. Her hands. The sound she made when I pulled her shirt off.

I dragged in a slow breath and closed my eyes.

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