Chapter 7

Iwould have to be deaf and stupid not to know what they were about.

I think I suspected something even before I heard her little whimpers carried on the breeze. And then Alex simply brings her back into the room, thoroughly rumpled from whatever the fuck he has just done to pleasure her in some way. Did he put her on her knees first and coach her to suck him off? Did he lift her pretty skirt and eat her out?

As she draws closer, though, I can tell exactly what they did. I can smell him all over her. It is both a blessing and a curse to be an alpha. Betas can be mistaken in thinking little beyond the fact that we are bigger and stronger, and overlook the fact that we have an outstanding sense of smell… and filthy fucking minds.

When a man takes a woman outside in the urgent manner Alex just did, ‘having words' is not the first thing that comes to my mind.

I sip my coffee to hide my smirk as the ravished version of Clara is left alone with a wolf.

She takes a seat beside me in the manner of a woman whose legs are about to give out and looks anywhere but at me.

I don't know what is going on between them, but they are ravenous for one another.

Good for him. He's a lucky bastard, and I've told him as much many times. His wife is gorgeous, with the kind of hips and ass that could make even a level-headed man think with his dick. I can't even think about her tits without my cock wanting to fucking go off. Then there is her air of sweet innocence that belies the charms of her body and her easy acquiescence to what her dear husband just did.

The cup shakes against the saucer in her hands.

"Here." I take it off her and set it down on the side table. I clear my throat and try to think of something, anything, I might say to break the tension that invades the small space between us.

"Are you well, Clara?"

Why the fuck did I just open that door?

"No!" It comes out in a squeak.

I chuckle, but catching her stricken look, I get both my inner beast and amusement under control. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at your discomfort. It's more that you're cursed to look adorable no matter how thoroughly loved your husband leaves you."

She throws a glance my way. I meet and hold it for all of a second before my eyes lower to her fucking tits. Gods, they are a test. The way that the bodice of her dress is drooping, I can distinctly see the top of her dark areolae. Now I am staring at her fucking tits, and I cannot fucking stop.

"Your dress might need a little… adjustment." I swallow, and finally drag my gaze away.

"Oh." It comes out all breathy and floods my mind with filthy thoughts as she battles to right her gown.

I haven't thumped Alex since we were children, before I revealed as an alpha, but I'm thinking about thumping him right now. What the fuck is wrong with him? He should have escorted her to their bedroom, where she might have tended to this privately.

The man may be one of my oldest friends, but he is assuredly acting like an idiot today.

A small sob escapes her lips.

"Clara?" I make the mistake of glancing back. I don't know what the fuck she's done, but her tit is now red and blotchy, and one nipple is fully out. I don't breathe for the longest period of time as she fumbles with her gown, trying to tug the decolletage up even as she attempts to squash her plump tit down.

It is a battle doomed to failure.

"You are swollen with arousal." The words escape my lips without the permission of my brain.

"Oh, goddess," she whimpers. The distress in her voice is palpable, and it finally cools my lust enough that I can drag my gaze away from her fat nipple to her flushed face and desperate eyes.

"Hush, Clara. Let me help you with that."

Her hands fall away, leaving her tits quivering with her every shuddering breath.

I'm in a trance as I lean toward her. My head moves down. My mouth is fucking watering even before I get a taste. She emits a needy little moan that reaches straight to my core as I close my lips around the distended peak and suck. I suck again, pulling the tight little nub deeper into my mouth.

A low, rumbly purr escapes me with my next breath. I open my mouth wider, and this time I draw a generous portion of her tit into my mouth along with her nipple. I exhale heavily, feasting greedily on her hot, delectable flesh, feeling instantly calmed by the act of suckling on her. Gods, I could feast here all day. How the fuck Alex ever lets her out of their bedroom is a mystery to me.

She tastes delightful.

She smells amazing.

There's nothing sweeter than a lusty female. Her scent and helpless moans pull a thread straight through my gut and down into my balls. My cock flexes against my pants. I am much enamored with this needy female, and I don't even care that she is my best friend's wife.

Her fingers find my hair: not to pull me off. No, they hold me there.

I shift, nuzzling her soft flesh, getting lost in the fog. Somehow, I manage to lift my head. My chest feels tight, like there's not enough air in the room, as we stare into each other's eyes.

I have stepped over a line.

Her hands slip from my hair. Her tit is now half out and considerably more exposed than before. I believe I have not helped her with the problem at all. I believe I have made matters worse.

"Here," I say, "let us loosen the little bow. I believe it will help."

I undo the top ribbon, and it puts slack into her pretty jade-green dress. When I gently tug her gown, her decolletage covers her, although I'm disgusted with myself for even thinking to cover it up. If I had my way, her tits would spend most of the day on display, awaiting my pleasure, encouraging me to play.

But now the ribbon is open, and her breasts make an arresting V as they quiver beautifully under her ragged breaths.

"There." It is not entirely decent, but it is not indecent either.

"Th-thank you," she stammers, her eyes down.

It is then that her husband chooses to return. The door clicks shut behind him. We both turn to look at him. I don't know if I look guilty. Clara certainly does. As I lean back into my chair, his eyes shift between us. He doesn't look like he's about to go at me or kick me out of his house.

He looks interested.

He looks like a man about to ravish his wife again.

I swear, if the bastard drags her somewhere to fuck her again and leaves me hanging on his pleasure, I will thump him, whether he is my best friend or not.

Only, I wonder what might be the consequence if I choose to meet the matter head-on?

"You left your poor wife in some discomfort," I say. "Did you just fuck her on the veranda?"

She gasps. I don't pay her any mind, aware that I've ventured onto dangerous ground, yet I cannot pull fucking back.

"Over the balustrade," Alex admits.

I chuckle. "Where anyone could see. Where I could see."

"Did you?" he asks, and there is no mistaking the eagerness in his tone nor the way his face lights with interest.

His sweet wife doesn't say a word, but I can feel her quivering next to me. I hear the unsteady saw of her breathing.

I shake my head. "No. I did what a civilized man would do. I pretended that nothing was going on." I turn to Clara, and her pretty blue eyes slam into mine. I could sink into them. She is so beautiful. Sweet-natured. Her biggest fault is that she believes the best of people. Unfortunately, the world is cruel, and some people are bastards who don't deserve her charm. But it is hard to fault someone for being too kind, for being too gullible. Alex tries to protect her from the world, and I admire him for that.

Except, now, he's thrusting his sweet wife in front of an alpha. Sometimes, he forgets what I am, that an alpha has an inner beast, that his senses are sharper, and that we have deep, barbaric lusts.

And that, on occasion, our pheromones can have an influence over betas.

None of that has happened with Clara and Alex before, and they have ever been my friends. Oh, I've noticed Clara, for certain—I'd have to be fucking blind not to. However, I am not the kind of bastard who would act on it, ever, and doubly not when it is obvious to anyone that there is a deep love between them.

But, this time, something has changed, and it is not all down to me.

My hand shakes a little as I dare to run my knuckles down her soft cheek, waiting for a reaction from Alex while wondering what I'll do if he tells me to fuck off. He doesn't. "Did he come inside you, Clara?"

She nods slowly, her lips parted as she pants a little. Her eyes are glazed, pupils blown and fixed on mine. They are both getting off on my scent. So what should I do about it?

I should leave. That would be the right thing, the sensible thing, and in a day or two, maybe as much as a week, the influence would start to wear off, and they would come out of the spell, doubtless embarrassed about what they had done.

Except I'm fucking lonely for a connection beyond the quick fucks I indulge in with practiced betas and the occasional mated omega who needs another dick when in heat. Visiting Alex and Clara has become a highlight for me over recent years. I never really asked myself why. Now, I begin to wonder about it at a deeper level. Have I always coveted my friend's wife?

I had thought I wanted her sister, Rebecca. In some ways, I did. Circumstances and their bitchy older sister destroyed any chance of that. I spent a year searching for Rebecca. When I found her, I knew she was already lost to me. I offered her the protection of my name when I realized she was with child, even as I understood it would be my name only, for her heart was claimed.

I was trying to do the right thing by her, to give her an option when it appeared she had none. Nothing I offered was done with the intention of poaching another male's woman, and I was genuinely glad when they both came to their senses and committed to one another.

So, I have never coveted a mated or married woman before, although many couples have sought my attention, to see if I was amenable to fulfilling a fantasy or desire—to be an extra dick. And I have engaged in that sort of play, more often than not, because I'm a man with a healthy appetite where fucking is concerned, and the experience was universally hot.

But I never wanted more, even though I enjoyed the experience.

It is different with Alex, perhaps because we have been friends since we were children, or perhaps I have always secretly coveted his wife. Can I go down this road? Can I give them what they both so clearly desire, a hot fantasy, and then walk away?

I only know that I can't walk away yet.

I rest my hand on the back of her neck and gently work my thumb along the column.

Alex swallows; his eyes are on my fingers—he doesn't tell me to stop. I've been in this situation enough times to read the signs. When I glance down at his crotch, his cock jerks against his pants.

So, this is how it is going to play out, is it?

He's not a mere acquaintance, and I already know this won't be an encounter I can forget. What happens will change things between us, irrevocably.

I realize all these things, and I don't care.

This will all be on their terms, as it always is. Only, this time, it could end badly. He might rescind his permission at any point. Maybe he just likes the thought and not the reality of an alpha fucking his beta wife. Maybe he will take her out on the balcony again and fuck her, and I will be left hanging.

Maybe he will take her loudly and enthusiastically tonight while I lie in my own bed with my cock in my hand, imagining what they do.

Maybe he will let me watch them.

Maybe he will send me packing.

Or maybe he won't.

It's a risk I'm prepared to take.