The Alpha’s Pen Pal (Crescent Lake Book 1)

WESLEY

I spent almost a whole day running laps around the training yard, stopping only to get drinks of water or take a piss. My dad finally told me I could stop just before sunset, so I made my way back to our house.

Our house. I loved saying that. Thinking that. Knowing I would make it a home with her. My lycan agreed with me, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out at the thought of our mate waiting for us at home.

Her scent greeted me as I mounted the porch steps, and I paused with my hand on the doorknob.

There was so much still going on, so much up in the air in our lives, but I took the time to savor the moment. To absorb the feeling of knowing I was coming home to my mate for the first time.

I opened the door, and her scent hit me heavier than before, as sweet as ever. The way it mixed with mine and swirled into every nook and cranny of the house filled me with pride but also gave me a sense of comfort. Especially knowing it would only grow stronger with each day she spent there with me.

Nolan looked up from his laptop on the couch as I walked in and shut it as soon as he saw me. “How many laps did you end up doing?”

“I stopped counting,” I said. “Haven?”

“In her studio,” he said, standing up with his laptop in hand.

I smiled, and my lycan preened, happy to hear she was already putting our gift to good use. I had promised to build her a real, designated dance studio on the pack grounds, but I hoped she’d want to keep the first one I’d made for her as well.

I made my way down the hall and heard Nolan leave just as I stepped into the studio. I paused in the doorway, though, so I could take in the sight in front of me.

My mate—my beautiful, perfect mate—dancing away in the special room I made just for her. She had her hair pulled back in two French braids, and she wore only a sports bra and leggings, her feet bare. Her steps were graceful and fluid as she moved around the room to the music playing from the new phone I’d ordered for her. Her scent was the strongest in that room, telling me she’d spent most of her day there.

The song ended, and she held her pose. She didn’t once look in the mirrors the entire time she danced, so I knew she didn’t know I was there yet. I moved in behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back against my bare chest. My head dipped into the crook of her neck so I could get even more of her sweet scent.

“Wes!” she cried, squirming and pushing at my arms. “You’re all sweaty!”

“So are you,” I muttered against her skin, making goosebumps appear, and her little hairs stand on end.

“Couldn’t you have showered before coming home?”

“I could have,” I agreed, kissing her shoulder. “But then I wouldn’t be able to put my scent on you. Or shower with you.”

She shuddered and made a little noise in her throat at that suggestion. My fingertips traced little circles into her abdomen. “Please tell me you wore more clothes than this today?”

“I took my shirt off because I got warm. No one else saw me like this,” she said, reaching up and patting my cheek. “But you’re cute when you get all jealous.”

“I’m not cute.” I frowned.

“Okay, Pal. If you say so.,” She smirked.

I gripped her waist and spun her around to face me, pulling her hips flush against mine. “I’m a lycan, Haven. Lycans are strong and fierce. Not ‘cute.’”

“I don’t know,” she mused, her hands playing with my hair. My eyes closed at her touches, her fingers gentle and soothing against my scalp. “Now that I’ve had time to think about it, you were pretty cute when you were a lycan.”

I tried to growl at her, but the image in my mind of my lycan sitting up straighter at her compliment had me laughing instead.

My fingers dug into her hips as I lowered my mouth to hers for a kiss. But she leaned away from me, catching me by surprise and slipping out of my arms with a fancy little twirl.

“I need to practice a bit more,” she said at my scowl. “Then we can shower and canoodle all you want,” she added as she blew me a kiss.

“Fine,” I agreed. “But only because I enjoy watching you dance.” I winked.

She moved back to the center of the room and started practicing again, and I stood back to watch her. Her legs stretched and tightened as she pointed her feet and stepped up onto her toes, and her arms floated in the air as she danced.

She may have been small—or at least smaller than most she-wolves—but her stage presence and the way she moved her body made up for her stature. A focused yet serene expression graced her face, and anyone who watched her could see how much she loved what she did. She was breathtaking to watch.

I walked around the room, one eye still watching her and the other looking at the pictures I’d hung up in her space. I paused in front of one—an image of her dancing with Ramón in a rehearsal—and I got an idea.

“Haven,” I said, turning to her again.

“Hmm?” she hummed, not breaking her concentration or her rhythm.

“Can I help you practice?”

Her steps faltered at that, her arms dropping and her brows furrowing as she turned to glance at me. “How are you going to help me?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Well,” I began, glancing back at the photo. “You could teach me some lifts?” I supplied lamely, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at the photo.

Her lips twitched, and she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg. “You want to do ballet lifts with me?”

I nodded. It was a lame excuse, but it would get me close to her, let me get my hands on her, and she could also still practice. It would be the best of both.

“All right,” she said after a moment. “But it’s not as easy as it looks,” she warned.

“Haven. I’m a lycan.”

“Last I checked, lycan and ballet dancer were not the same thing,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, get over here,” she laughed, waving me towards her.

Even after all the laps I had run that day, I sprinted the three steps to her, moving right into her space. I wanted to put my arms around her and just throw her over my shoulder and take her to the bedroom, but I clenched my fists and took a deep breath to focus on my ballet lesson.

“Okay, so, first, I’m going to teach you the fish lift,” she said.

“Fish?”

“Yes, that’s just what it’s called. Don’t ask me why.” She shrugged. “So you’ll lift me from here”—she patted her right thigh—“and here,” she said, pointing to her abdomen. “My left leg will bend into a passé sort of, and you’ll lunge and dip me.”

“Sure. Sounds simple enough,” I muttered, and she smirked.

“No, from under my leg.” She giggled as I put my hand on her thigh.

“Like this?” I asked, adjusting my grip, and she nodded.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, and lifted her, and her left leg bent just as she said it would. I stood there awkwardly, just holding her, forgetting what else she’d instructed me to do.

Her head turned to look at me, and she whispered, “Lunge!”

“Oh, right,” I stammered, and I lunged with my left leg bent.

“No, no, the other leg!” She laughed.

“Oops,” I said, quickly switching my weight to my other leg.

She looked at us in the mirror and laughed even harder. “Oh god, Wes, you look like a bear.”

“I’m a wolf shifter. We live in packs. Bear shifters are solitary.”

Her mouth opened and closed. “We’ll circle back to that later. When we discuss vampires.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “What do we do from here?”

“Well, you stand back up, and I extend my leg out, and you set me down in an arabesque.”

“Um…”

“Just stand up straight,” she said, shaking her head. “This is so not helping,” she added under her breath.

“But it’s fun,” I retorted as I stood straight, and she extended her leg.

I set her down on her toes, one leg supporting her weight and the other straight out behind her, her foot almost even with her head and her back curving slightly as her leg lifted behind her.

My arm around her waist tightened, my fingers splaying across her abdomen and towards her chest. My other hand moved up her leg, tracing over the curve of her thigh until I cupped her core, my thumb brushing it gently. I lowered my mouth to her neck, where I placed sensual, open-mouthed kisses.

I couldn’t help it. Her body and her heart called to mine. Every touch seemed more intense than the last, like the mate bond urged us to be together. Not necessarily to complete the bond with a mark but to help us bond with one another or maybe to keep our scents as mixed as they could be until I could mark her.

Her other leg lowered to the floor, and her head rolled back onto my shoulder. I slid my hand up to her neck, holding her in place against me. A little moan escaped her, and my dick twitched in my gym shorts.

“Wes,” she breathed, turning her body to face mine. “This isn’t rehearsing.”

“Rehearsal is over,” I growled, grabbing her butt and lifting her so her legs wrapped around my waist.

She wound her arms around my neck and placed her lips on mine, not even bothering to argue with me. It would have been pointless, anyway. We both knew how much she wanted the same thing I did. I could smell it in the air and feel it through her leggings.

I moved us through the house by memory. My lips never left her mouth, and my eyes locked with hers, watching her lust-filled expression as my hands squeezed her little ass and my fingers drifted towards her center.

I tossed her onto the bed, and she bounced slightly, a little squeal letting loose. But I was over her in an instant, my hips pressing her down against the mattress, my hands already on the waistband of her leggings.

“Wes,” she moaned, her hips pressing into mine and her legs wrapping around me.

But I pushed them away. “I need to taste you,” I groaned. “Your scent is making my mouth water.”

I peeled her leggings down her legs along with her underwear and tossed them aside, pulling her so her legs hung down the side of the bed and her butt was right at the edge of the mattress. My hands slid all the way up from her ankles to her thighs, my thumb brushing against her lower lips as I spread her open for me.

Her hands clutched at the comforter, fisting the material in her fingers as I dove forward and kissed her entrance.

I groaned in pure delight at her taste, my dick growing even harder. Nothing compared to her taste, to being between her thighs and worshiping her. I was a man in a desert, and she was my oasis, my saving grace.

I lifted her feet so her heels rested on the edge of the mattress, opening her more to me. My eyes took in the view for a moment as I paused my teasing. My mate—spread and on display just for me. Only for me.

She was mine to tease, mine to watch, mine to love.

My finger traced her slit up to her clit, and her pussy clenched, desperate to be filled. But I wasn’t ready for that yet. I wanted her to come first, and I wanted my mouth on her when she did.

“You are a vision,” I murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh. “So perfect and always ready for me.”

I blew on her clit, and she moaned and jerked her hips towards my mouth, but I pulled away with a deep chuckle.

“Damn it, Wesley, just kiss me!” she cried.

I chuckled again but lunged forward and did as she asked, my mouth devouring her pussy. She cried out again, and I locked my arms around her legs as my tongue and lips tasted, teased, and explored. “Move your hips, Sugar Plum,” I said between my kisses. “And don’t you dare hold anything back from me.”

Her responding groan ignited a fire within me, encouraging me to kiss her harder. My tongue pushed inside her entrance, and her hands gripped my hair, holding my head in place as her hips rolled and moved against my mouth.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her high. Her body tensed, and her hips moved faster, her toes curling and loud moans echoing through the room. I kept my mouth on her as she came, kissing her through her release, slowing my movements as she slowed hers.

“Goddess, Haven.” I sighed, kissing up her body as she caught her breath. “Somehow, you taste and feel better every time I’m with you,” I told her, pressing my lips against hers. “And your sounds you make when you come—” I groaned. “So fucking sexy.”

“I want you, Wesley,” she panted, her hands exploring my bare chest. “I need you.”

“I know,” I said, sitting up so I could pull my shorts off. “And I’m going to give you what you want. What you need.”

But, of course, life had other plans. I had the drawstring untied, and my hands were about to pull my shorts off when Sebastian mindlinked me.

“We found Lennox.”