The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(73)

I don’t know. Abertha speaks in riddles. And when she’s drunk, puns.

“I told myself if it’s just a mouth or a hand, it doesn’t count, you know? I’m not shutting the door. If my mate shows up from North Border or something, it’ll all be good.”

Is he saying he’s never had sex? Like the penis in vagina kind? It’s a good thing it’s pitch black. My jaw just dropped.

This cabin smelled like a lot of fluids, but I guess that makes sense if he’s been doing everything but. Messier out than in.

Holy crap. He’s twenty-nine. I’ve had more sex than him. Two hundred percent more. The alpha is a virgin. Kind of.

My mind is boggled.

How does the whole pack not know?

But then again, Haisley and Rowan and Tierney and all of them get a nice bump in rank when everyone thinks they’re banging the alpha. That’s a lot of incentive to let folks think what they will. I guess none of the females are gonna lose status by admitting they only got to third base. If that’s the blowjob base. I don’t know that much about human sports.

Is it a big secret among them or do they all think the others are doing the deed, and they’re the only one on “B-roster” so to speak?

This is wild. And also, how do I feel about it?

I don’t know.

What I do feel—I probably shouldn’t.

I’m a little, tiny bit, and very regretfully, pleased as punch. Or is it my wolf?

He waited for us. A little. He’s never been inside another female. Well, another female’s pussy. That shouldn’t matter. I’m not more or less valuable since I’ve experimented. And if he thought I was, I’d drop him like a hot potato. That’s bullshit.

But even that doesn’t make sense. I can’t drop him like a hot potato. He’s not mine to drop.

But he’s not any other female’s, either.

There’s a tingling in the bond. He reaches over and takes my braid, fisting it tightly but careful not to tug my scalp.

“I didn’t ruin it, Una, did I? Did I break it before it started?” His voice roughens like tumbled rocks. It washes over me. “It was never what I wanted. It was never like this. Now.”

My dumb heart melts into a gooey mess at the same time another part of me gets hot. Ragingly pissed. I jerk my braid out of his grasp, I don’t even care that it stings.

His sexual history is not the thing that ruined this. And it’s such a Quarry Pack male thing to think. Must be my dick.

He hurt me. He rejected me in front of everyone. He let everyone laugh at me when I was naked and bleeding. He didn’t have my back when I needed someone more than I ever have in my adult life. And he thinks that him getting his knob slobbered on could hurt worse than that?

And the horrible, embarrassing, lowering fact is that I do hurt, and I hate it, and it makes me want to barf. I wish I could blame it on my wolf, but she’s conked out and nowhere near this conversation.

And also, holy crap, Killian Kelly just admitted to me that he’s a virgin.

Killian reaches out and grabs my braid again. Then he waits in silence. I guess I’m supposed to say something.

I don’t know what to say; I’m so freaking hot. This quilt has too much stuffing. I kick my feet free. Then I wriggle higher—Killian has to adjust quickly to not pull my hair—and I try to adjust my clothes again, get comfortable, but I can’t find the right position.

I need to say something. Killian is tensing, and I’m not such a jerk that I won’t acknowledge he just opened up to me big time. It’s surreal. It’s the middle of the night, I’m alone with the alpha in his bed, and he’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

He’s not barking orders for once. He’s talking like a normal person. Telling me he’s never gone all the way.

If this were a female confiding in me, I’d respond in kind. Maybe I’d tell him about how—so deep down I’m not sure I’ve ever formed the words in my head before—I thought I didn’t have a mate because Fate didn’t want to curse a pup with a mother too weak to defend it.

How I don’t want us to be ruined, either, even though we are.

How I needed him, and he let me down, so none of this can matter, and I hate that, and I wish I was like other females who can forgive and forget and be happy.

A wave of sadness, almost grief, rolls over me, but immediately, it’s washed away by a wave of heat and the prickling of my skin. My thinking muddles. Narrows.

I don’t have time for regrets. There’s something I have to do.

My wolf is in total agreement. She’s wide awake now and yipping.

I do a crunch and reach beneath me to rearrange the pillows. Everything is in the wrong place.

And my nerves are raw. Jangling. What am I doing laying here? I gotta get started. I’m going to be too late.

Killian sits up. “Una?”

He flicks on the bedside lamp. Three clicks.

The light drives a jolt of pain into my brain. I snap my teeth.

“Okay. No worries.” He dials it down to the dimmest setting.

That’s better. Now I can see to work. A flat sheet covers Killian’s lap, and that’s okay, too, for now. I press my fingers to his bare chest. It’s firm. I squeeze his biceps. They’re hard, too. Good. Very good.

I lick the smooth muscle. He lets out a throaty moan. He tastes perfect. He’ll do.