Alpha Asher by Jane

Read Alpha Asher by Jane Doe Chapter 115 – I was only partially awake when I heard the bedroom door open. The cold draft in the hallway whooshed into the bedroom, blowing Asher’s scent until it swirled around the room.

My nose twitched, and even in my sleep I knew when he was near. Fingers brushed my cheek. Just two, trailing slowly to my jawline. The sparks, which could be overwhelming at times, turned subtle and soothing.

As his hand drifted lower, grazing my neck and shoulder, he gradually came to a stop. I could no longer feel his fingers gliding over my skin, but instead knew where they hovered.

For months I pretended the crimson mark on my skin was non-existent, a nightmare that I had long ago woken up from. Tristan was trying, working to make up for his mistakes and to preserve his people, but I’d always have the physical reminder of what side he had once been on.

Even without his mark, as his Queen, I’d always have that faint connection to him.

“Is Zeke alive?” I mumbled sleepily.

“Alive and bailed out of the county j**l.” Asher’s reply had almost come a few seconds too late. My eyes fluttered open, confusion and amusement written across them. It wasn’t surprising. Zeke with a bunch of college students, things we bound to get crazy. “I’ll explain everything in the morning, after we both get some sleep.”

My eyes opened just a sliver when I felt the rough palm of his hand against my stomach. A jolt of awareness rushed through me, similar to adrenaline as I caught Asher’s swirling golden eyes, peering at me through the darkness. The intensity of his gaze, the way he fixated on me obsessively. Was it screwed up that I found that intoxicating?

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He grunted, tugging on the hem of my tank- top with impatient fingers.

“Then undress me, Alpha.” I giggled sleepily, stretching my arms over my head as I watched pale threads of moonlight stream through the c******s in the room.

Asher replied with a vicious snarl, and I knew that if I reached out, I’d be holding the stiff length of him in my hand. He removed my tank-top with surprisingly gentle hands, toying with the fact that goosebumps erupted wherever he touched.

Cold air enveloped me the moment my chest was b**e, the tank-top I had worn discarded on the floor. My eyes were still shut, arms still splayed out above my head as I hovered in between sleep and consciousness, that euphoric state where everything felt both sensitive and cloudy.

me, peering through the dark as he devoured my b**e b*****s and soft curves. Oh, we were playing this game again. Warmth blossomed between my legs, tightening my n*****s and

leggings I wore,

play with you,

my head on the pillow to get

onto the floor, leaving me hyper sensitive and aching in all of the wrong ways. My b*****s bounced as I shifted in

glided through my folds, collecting the wetness that coated my lips. As much as I tried to tone down my reaction, nothing short of a miracle could keep my back from arching when

a werewolf, a Luna, and a

quiet, sweetheart?” He chuckled low in my ear,

taunt, a promise. My eyes rolled when I felt the blistering heat of him against

and bottomless, ” That’s

had I gotten myself

danced in my eyes. The muscles in my legs and core clenched painfully,

hand he used to pin my hips down left small bruises that would heal all too quickly. The feral need that boiled in him, it showed me how much he enjoyed this. He cursed under his breath, “You’re going to come, all from rubbing that little pu*s* on my

head of his c**k grinded against my c**t. My eyes fluttered open just in time, latching onto his as my

swirled and churned. I had never seen him like this, this feral. Like the most savage parts of his wolf were rising to the surface. His thick

I had ever screamed like this before. My p***y stretched until it was almost painful, wrapped around his c**k as every brutal thrust made my eyes roll. Every whimper and plea for more, they were muffled

his hips against my own. Every time my p***y throbbed around his shaft, he let out a husky grunt. “You can’t help but

wrong with me. The feeling of his hand over my mouth, while he cursed and

I cried out, sinking my nails into his shoulders as I went loose and taut. He held me close, his pace still brutal as he found those last moments of pleasure buried inside of me, His lips latched onto my

blissfully sore, I had the best sleep I’ve managed in weeks. It should have

I found myself perched on top of the marble counter in the kitchen. Standing between my legs, smirking down at