Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Sinclair
I’m resolved to buy Ella a ring tomorrow, but we still have to get through tonight first.
She was distant on the ride home, sitting across from me in the back of the limo rather than tucked up against my side the way I
prefer. Moreover she didn’t say a word until we got back to the house, and then her only message was that she wanted to sleep
in her own rooms this evening.
“Are you angry with me?” I ask, furrowing my brow in confusion.
“No, I just think a little space would be good for us.” She answers, hugging herself in a clear defensive move.
Maybe she’s right, I think, though it’s not easy to hear my thoughts with my wolf snarling in protest. I still haven’t gotten to the
bottom of her reluctance to indulge our shared desires, and I don’t want to press her if she really isn’t interested. Even if she is, I
think it would be a mistake to push her too hard or fast and risk spooking her. “Okay.” I agree eventually. “I’ll notify the guards.”
My wolf is whining like a pup as I stride away from her, and I can’t believe how attached I’ve become to the sweet human in so
short a time. I don’t like letting her out of my sight when I know she’s under threat, but this is so much more than that. I’ve gotten
so used to sleeping with her warm little body snuggled in my arms or sprawled out on top of me, that I’m not sure I’ll be able to
rest without her.
As I prepare for bed, I try to make my wolf settle, but it’s nearly impossible. In the end, I realize I didn’t scent mark Ella tonight,
and if anything will calm my wolf, I imagine that will. I pull on a t-shirt over my pajama bottoms and set off towards her rooms,
knowing precisely how ridiculous I’m being and not giving a damn.
However when I arrive outside Ella’s rooms I immediately pick up on a strange tension among the guards. I look around at them
curiously, but their stiff postures are only compounded by their refusal to look me in the eye. A moment later a soft whimper
emanates through Ella’s door, and I understand. It’s not a sound of worry, sadness or fear, but one absolutely dripping with sex.
My ears sharpen towards her door and I hear more sounds: the slight rustle of the bed sheets; the gentle glide of deft fingers
sliding over wet flesh; uneven and excited breathing; and pounding pulse. It’s obvious what Ella is up to in my absence, and I
have to stop myself from groaning aloud.
I silently order the guards away – knowing Ella would be mortified if she realized my men can overhear her touching herself. My
own mind is divided over what to do – I doubt she wants me to hear this either, though she probably wouldn’t mind if she realized
just how open shifters are about sex. Even my men weren’t embarrassed, simply nervous over my reaction to them being near

Ella at an intimate moment. She might not be my mate, but she is carrying my pup, and that’s a claim every bit as powerful and
sacred to our kind. They know how possessive I am of her, how protective. They probably thought I’d rip their ears off just for
standing in hearing distance. Still it was their duty to guard her, and now it has to be mine until this private moment has passed.
I’m confident that I’m the least objectionable audience to Ella, considering the intimacies we’ve already shared. Still, I have to
keep telling myself this reminder as time passes. Every time I begin to wonder if I’m using her protection as an excuse to
eavesdrop, I put myself in Ella’s shoes and recall how humiliated she would feel about so many strangers hearing her in this
state. Leaving her unguarded isn’t an option, so this is the lesser of two evils.
Nonetheless, it’s absolute torture to listen to Ella finding her pleasure this way, because every small pant and moan fills my head
with a thousand explicit images. I can imagine exactly what she’s doing, and the tiny sounds she emits every now and then egg
my wolf on. He’s in a near frenzy, demanding we go in and put a stop to this immediately. I should be the one pleasuring her, she
shouldn’t have to take matters into her own hands. This is a mate’s job. If she were mine I would march in right now, give her
lush bottom a few swats for not making her needs known to me, then bury my face between her legs and feast until she’s
begging me to stop.
But she isn’t mine. I remind myself furiously, trying not to get so carried away by the fantasy that I give in. Still, she’s clearly
worked up because of the kiss, my wolf reasons, she’s probably thinking of us this very moment.
We don’t know that. I caution. She didn’t want to get involved, remember? Her current need might be related or it might be the
pregnancy, her hormones, or simply the fact that she’s a living breathing woman with a healthy libido. Either way, we have no
right.
Ella’s quiet ministrations speed up, and I pray we’re near the end of this – I’ve given up all thought of scent marking her. If I go in
there now, I won’t be able to restrain myself or my wolf. I’m hard as a rock on my slacks, and as soon as Ella’s need for privacy
is over, I’ll let the guards return and trust her safety to them once more. Afterwards I’m going to have a nice cold shower and
relieve me cock the only way I can in my current predicament.
Ella’s delicious murmurs finally crescendo, and I wish I’d pressed her harder about her reluctance to start something romantic
between us. This is only going to get harder as her pregnancy progresses, and my wolf is quickly running out of patience. I can’t
understand his behavior. I’ve had sex with plenty of she-wolves over the years, and he’s only ever pushed me to claim Lydia, no
matter how much I cared about the women who came before her.
It’s like he doesn’t believe Ella is human – like he refuses to accept that I couldn’t mark Ella even if I wanted to. And I don’t want
to... right? It’s just my wolf going overboard because of the pup.

If only we could mark her somewhere else, He suggests wistfully, completely ignoring my logic. And don’t even pretend like that
idea doesn’t tempt you.
Unfortunately he’s right, but it doesn’t matter how tempting the idea is. Mating marks are so intimate because they require
allowing another wolf to wrap their jaws around your most vulnerable spot. It would defeat the point to mark Ella somewhere
safer.
But just think about how amazing it would feel. My wolf urges.
Again I have to stop myself from groaning out loud. The bastard is right. The last thing I want is to hurt Ella, but I’m very
experienced when it comes to bringing a she-wolf to the peak of pleasure before sinking my teeth into her. I’m sure I could do the
same for her– if only it wasn’t her neck I had to bite.
Goddess, stop it! I internally shout at myself. You’re losing it! This is crazy talk. It’s your cock talking, not your brain or even your
heart. You don’t really want this, and neither does she.
Right on cue, Ella climaxes, a soft keening escaping her lips. My hands close into fists and I grit my teeth against the intoxicating
noise, and it’s only as I drag in a few gasping breaths, suddenly worried I might actually burst through her door – that I hear my
name on her lips. It’s a mere whisper as she comes down from her high, and I have no choice but to get out of there before it’s
too late. I storm past the guards, waving them back to their posts, and race for my shower.
A little while later I find myself lying awake in bed, my cock hard again despite the release I found in the shower. Ella is the only
thing on my mind, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever be able to think of anything else. That might have been the most erotic
thing I’ve ever heard, and I didn’t even see it happening. Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me? How irrational and
crazed I’ve become about her? I barely recognize myself anymore.