Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 628

Chapter 128 : Mark Me... Again

*Lena*

“I am coming back," he said, his voice a whisper.

I swallowed, nodding my head and looking down at the ground.

“Lena."

“Yeah?" I looked up at him, unable to stop the tears from welling in my eyes. One tear spilled over and trailed down my cheek.

Xander stepped toward me, then knelt before me. He reached up and used his thumb to wipe the tear from my cheek. “This isn't forever. I'll come back for you."

“We've said that to each other so many times–"

“And this is the last time, I promise." He took my hands in his, knitting his fingers around mine. “I promise."

“What–"

“I don't know what we're going to do, or where we're going to live. But I need to return to Egoren to find that out. It's going to be okay. We made it through this. We can make it through anything."

He rose on his knees and wrapped his arms around me. I knew it hurt him to do so; I could feel the way his muscles strained and then trembled around me.

“Xander," I said into his shoulder. I could feel the welts beneath his shirt as I ran my hands down his back. “You're hurting–"

“I'm fine," he replied, one of his hands running up the length of my back and into my hair, which was tousled from sleep. He pulled my head back so I was looking into his eyes. They darkened, a flash of need passing behind them that set a fire burning through my stomach.

He kissed me gently at first, his lips brushing against mine.

“I can give you my blood," I whispered against his lips.

“I need a lot more of you than that," he growled, and I felt my body go limp in his arms. His tongue parted my lips, tangling with mine as his grip on my body strengthened. He pulled me into him, almost pulling me off of the cot in the process.

Primal desire took over. I couldn't remember the last time we were truly alone together. He had me out of my clothes before I could blink, and then he rose to his full height to shed his own.

But my breath caught painfully in my throat as my eye focused on a jagged scar that stretched across his shoulder.

His mark was… gone.

reaching up to touch the barely healed wound, but he grabbed my wrist,

“It doesn't matter–"

my chest as I took in the scars that roped around his chest, his arms, and his neck. He'd been ripped apart. My hands trembled as I laid

there forever, a constant reminder of what had happened

I trailed my fingertips over his skin. “I want you to.

again, not after what–what they did

he said,

not

my hair in his hand at the nape of my neck and pulled so I was looking

rasped. “I want your mark

clouding my judgment. I didn't want to cause him any more

the cot, which groaned beneath our weight. It wasn't meant for two people, but Xander didn't seem to care that it was likely splintering beneath us. He ran his hands down the curve of my hips and thighs, cupping my ass as

begging to be touched. I rocked my hips against his, a barely audible plea

again, his lips traveling down my neck and

drenched, and a raspy grunt of approval was all I heard before Xander ran his tongue over one of my n*****s. I sucked in my breath

whispered against my

moaned his name and bit my

he whispered against my cheek as he positioned himself between my

out as he entered me in one long, swift thrust. My mind was a blur of conflicting emotions, but my body

holding himself off the cot with one hand while his other hand explored my body, teasing me in all the right places. He knitted that free hand in mine and pinned

keep my mind clear and let my body take control. But my heart was hammering so rapidly in my chest that

was

hand, pulling him closer so more of his weight was sheltering

as he met my

into a mind-numbing climax that took my breath away, and I

as he closed his eyes and moaned low in his throat. “f**k," he

his shoulder as he came. A tear rolled down my cheek as I kissed his shoulder, my lips brushing against his skin, then my

***

caught a glimpse of the mark I'd left on Xander's shoulder before he pulled a sweater over his head. Moonlight drifted through the small holes in the roof of the tent, illuminating the red half-moon mark that

to have been marked twice by the same woman," he said lightly as he sat down on the cot, smiling softly at me. I matched his smile as I gathered a thin, worn-out blanket to my chest. “Here I–I have a shirt

duffle bag, one he'd packed away for his journey. I didn't object. It smelled like him, and that itself was a small comfort. I could

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