Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 3 – Out of Control

“Come on,” I say, pulling Victor away to a dark corner alcove. “Let’s dance.”

Inside, I stand close to Victor and begin to sway my hips to the music that the DJ just stared playing. I looking up into Victor’s face, breathing him in, relishing his smell, like winter air and pine.

Starting to feel the music, I shake my head so that my hair cascades across my bare shoulders, but Victor takes my chin in his palm and makes me look up at him. “What’s your name,” he asks.

“Evelyn Walsh,” I smile and then turn, pressing my back to his body, letting him feel me. Victor breathes out, a sharp breath, and then I feel him start to move with me. He runs a hand down my side, the other wrapping around my stomach, pressing me closer.

As we dance, I feel that new thing rising within me, the wolf that’s never before had a reason to raise its head. But now I feel it racing, a wild thing finally freed. I laugh and reach my arms up, wrapping them around Victor’s neck.

Victor turns my face and claims my mouth, as I wanted him to, unable to resist. He kisses me hard, his breath coming heavy against my lips. “f**k,” he says, breaking away. “I can’t do this.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I want this. It can just be one night.”

“One night,” he growls, clenching his teeth as I run my hand down his stomach, lower, as I saw my sister do earlier tonight. He grabs me by that hand and gives me a warning look as I smirk, knowing I’ve won.

“Let’s go,” he says, tugging me towards the entrance, “and be discreet.”

Victor takes me back to his room, checking around every corner to make sure we aren’t be seen. As soon as the door shuts, he is on me, running his hands across my body, down my back, grabbing my ass.

I give into the impulses that claim my mind, telling me to get closer, to touch more. I hastily pull my dress up over my head, tossing it to the ground and stepping forward.

But Victor steps back, away from me, and for a moment I hesitate. Then I see his eyes, hungry, devouring me as I stand before him naked except, again, for my thong and high heels. “God, Evelyn,” he says, his voice a low growl.

“Evie,” I whisper, a little breathless. “Call me Evie.”

Then, there’s no stopping us. We come together, Victor lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him, running my hands through his hair. He carries me over to the floor-to-ceiling window and presses me against it – I gasp as the cold glass touches my skin.

me, his hard

biting my lip, suddenly shy.

you,” he says, lowering me to the floor. I run my hands down his rippling abs and then slide his

magnificent body –

pressing himself hard against my ass. Then he puts a hand between my shoulder blades and presses gently. “Hands

to demand, wordlessly, that I spread my legs. I

as he adds another finger, slipping inside me, and then dipping lower to

going weak. Victor pulls his hand away. “More,” I moan, and the next thing I feel is something harder, thicker, pushing against my

says, pressing into me, “f**k it, I can’t

……

hour later, “God,” I say, after a few minutes have passed. “If I knew it felt like that…I’d have been doing this a

laughs softly. “Well get ready,” he says. “You’re about

tangled in the sheets. I blink the sleep away and sit up, looking

and hear the crumple of a paper.

STAY HERE, EVELYN.

I’LL STRAIGHTEN THIS OUT.

DON’T LEAVE THE ROOM.

reach for my phone before realizing – duh, of course – it’s not there. Frantically, I grab the remote and turn on the TV to the local news. Has

to be confronted with pictures myself –

just last night,” says the journalist voiceover, “of soon-to-be Alpha Victor Kensington cavorting with an unknown floozie. Citizens

of me, pictures of me and Victor, pictures of me and Victor dancing in what

of us in this room, taken from outside the window

against the glass, with

over my head, sick at what I’ve seen. The f*****g paparazzi – I should have known. Of course, I’ve never had a reason to even think about them before –my father has kept me

on tv and I peek out from beneath my blanket. There’s a podium set up on a stage now with reporters gathered before it. A blue box at the top of the screen reads “LIVE.” As I watch, a figure walks onto stage – a too familiar figure: green-eyed,