If someone has to define flabbergasted, my face would be an exemplary pictorial definition. Elio was looking similar to me, he was frozen on the spot. He was resembling a stone statue whereas it were my feet that felt heavy. They felt cemented to the ground. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to go to Chris, run to him. How do I do that though, when he was looking at me like I am really his mate?

Well, screw it! I thought and forced my legs to move towards Chris. He looked at me with...something akin to philia in his eyes.

"Do you have a concussion? A headache?"

"A little dizziness."

Whispering "That's it" I punched him hard. He fainted, making me sigh in relief. I turned my head and saw Elio looking at me like I murdered his pet and am putting it lightly. Yes, I got it now. He was looking at me like I am Mitchell. Suddenly, he turned red in the face and started moving his hands.

"Listen here, I don't know what you are saying because I do not understand sign language but I know you must be angry or confused." His eyes narrowed considerably looking like slits, closed slits. "OK, angry it is. You should look at the situation at hand though. He agreed he has a concussion when I asked him, it confirmed my suspicions of him spouting nonsense minutes ago. I just put him to sleep, that's it. What if he said something and I HAD A FUCKING HEART-ATTACK?"

I was scared.

I was panicking.

I was...thinking about my dad.

I was thinking about my dad who hates werewolves.

I was thinking of...my mom, the woman who almost lost the love of her life because she and my dad trusted werewolves.

I was thinking of that werewolf who my dad called his best friend, but the same person ended up with his claws in my dad's chest.

I need air. Running out of the room — more like escaping — I ended up in the office. Wrong move. One by one, memories started flooding my mind, of Chris and I teasing each other, taunting smiles, of us...kissing and touching. I couldn't help but smile when I thought about that day we were here.

I started grinding on him. His chest rumbled with a growl. I latched my lips to his neck, slowly sucking and branding him once again mine unintentionally. My vampire mind was satisfied with dominating a werewolf and watching him eat from the palm of our hands. My human heart was content with making him moan and watching him melt at our touch.

Moving further with my shenanigans, I removed one of my hands from his neck and put it onto the button of his pants. With my other hand I kept him in place, so he doesn't move and create obstacles for me in tasting the skin of his neck.

Unzipping his pants, I pushed two of my fingers - the index and the middle finger - inside that gaping space putting pressure on his length. A mixture of a moan and groan slipped out of his mouth. He was very much frustrated and equally aroused. I knew the reason for his frustration and it made me laugh internally; he thought I am teasing and will leave him hanging again. Well, he isn't wrong in assuming that. I am petty like that. I did it before, didn't I? And I would have done it again today, but my mind changed. It was all about pleasure now, if not his, then mine.

My fingers started tracing his length from base to the tip. Slowly. Chris' hips bucked upwards in hope of getting some friction, it was torture for him. His torture was my pleasure. I didn't want to sound too sadistic but this is what he does all the time to me, he tortures me. He has no right to look sinfully delicious and tempting all the time and tease me upon that.

Deciding it was enough, I unbuttoned his pants and dipped my hand inside. Mmm...he wears boxer briefs. I rubbed him over the piece of clothing. He growled, clutching a fistful of my hair and pulling my face to his. Planting his lips on mine, he kissed me so passionately that my hand on his length stopped for a second. The battle of tongues between us was so hot that it can burn anyone who is looking. I couldn't stop the moan that came out of me at the thought. The precum that my hand felt spilling out from the tip of his length at my moan was an ego booster for me.

I didn't have it in me to go without touching his bare skin anymore, so I got up from his lap and went for the waistband of his boxer briefs. He assisted me by lifting his ass while I pulled them down along with his jeans.

Taking my previous position on his lap, I took him back in my hand and started stroking him at a uniform speed. Soon, he was standing at attention.

"Well, hi there soldier. I appreciate you saluting me." Chris immediately detected my taunting tone. He growled and kissed me, clearly wanting to shut me up and punish me. The kiss was bruising, hard, demanding, and left my lips swollen.

Up and down motion of my hand and the kissing had us both worked up. To take it up a notch, I put my thumb on his tip and pressed. Since our bodies were plastered together in an embrace, I was able to feel the tremor that ran down his body. A reaction to my action. His hands came to rest on my ass, my jeans stopping skin to skin contact. It wasn't the case for long though; soon his hands found themselves inside my jeans touching the skin there. Yes, I went commando today. He started kneading my ass, squeezing the cheeks occasionally. Soon, his fingers took the path to my hole. He thought he was clever. Well, he wasn't.

I broke our kiss, brought my mouth to his ear and whispered, "If you dare touch me there, I will stop." He growled but retreated. "Good pup," I cooed and as a reward lined our cocks together and started stroking. And oh, let me tell you how delicious the tingles running inside our cocks were. Fucking delicious I'd say.

My mind was fuzzy and Chris' length was pulsing; we were both nearing orgasms. Releasing our lengths, I slipped down from his lap and to the ground on my knees. I started pumping my length furiously all the while looking up in his eyes. He groaned and took the matter in his own hands or we can say, his cock in his own hands. Before he could do something about his matter, I slapped his hand away and took his cock in my mouth. I sucked him once, twice, thrice and sold, sold to orgasm by my hands. He came with a growl.

And at this time, I am feeling powerful. It isn't every day that you get to see hot Alphas coming undone at the hands of a vampire. The feeling tipped me over the edge too.

The dreadful thing was that day the feeling that tipped me over wasn't one of power, it was the thought of giving pleasure to someone I care about. It was no more foggy in my mind. Infact, all the things were as clear as Chris' intentions with me. And there goes my mood. He thought of me as only a plaything. The bitch thought that he'd just pump and dump. Apart from these toxic thoughts, there were many questions running through my mind, each one focused on him calling me his mate. How is that even possible? If I was his mate, wouldn't he have known before? I have never heard of a werewolf not recognizing their mate or taking so much time to identify them as their mate; werewolves know their mate as soon as they breathe in their scent. No wolf had ever been so slow, maybe it has something to do with their brain and Devil knows that I think Chris is slow as fuck.

But he had a concussion, maybe the wiring inside his brain got faulty somehow. That's right. I'll settle for that.

He didn't know what he was talking about. He had a concussion. I ain't his mate.

Right.

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