<h4>Chapter 186: Chapter 186 The Alpha’s im</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    My tongue met his, not shyly, not cautiously, but with a raw, iming pressure.


    My fingers were already in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper into a kiss that tasted like wine and something far more desperate.


    The air in the car didn’t just warm.


    It thickened, turning heavy and hot enough to suffocate.


    Sebastian grunted into my mouth, his hands moving from my shoulders to my waist, gripping me so hard I knew there’d be markster.


    Outside, the wind howled, whipping tree branches until they strained and cracked.


    Inside, the windows were sealed tight, fogging up fast.


    My back pressed against the cool ss of the passenger window as his mouth left mine and trailed down my neck, biting just enough to make me gasp.


    My head fell back with a soft thud.


    "Off," I breathed, tugging at his shirt. "All of it."


    He didn’t need to be told twice.


    His jacket hit the floor, his shirt followed, and then his hands were under my skirt, pushing it up my thighs.


    His palm cupped me through my panties, and I bucked against him, a low moan tearing from my throat.


    "So wet already," he growled against my corbone. "All that attitude... and you’re already dripping for me."


    I didn’t deny it. How could I?


    His fingers slid under the edge of my panties, and then two thick fingers pushed inside me.


    I cried out, my hips moving in a frantic rhythm, riding his hand like it was the only thing keeping me alive.


    The fog on the windows grew thicker, the world outside disappearingpletely.


    I reached out, my hand pping against the cool, misted ss beside my head.


    My fingers slid down, leaving messy trails in the condensation.


    Sebastian watched me, his eyes dark and hungry, before his hand covered mine,cing our fingers together and pinning me gently against the window.


    He unzipped his pants, freed himself, and positioned himself between my legs.


    When he pushed inside, it wasn’t slow or gentle--it was a deep, iming thrust that stole the air from my lungs.


    My mouth fell open in a silent scream.


    "Fuck... Sebastian..."


    He set a brutal, perfect pace, each thrust hitting that spot inside me that made me see stars.


    The car rocked slightly, the leather seats creaking under our weight.


    My moans grew louder, mingling with his ragged breaths.


    One of his hands gripped my hip, the other still held mine against the foggy window, our fingers locked tight.


    I came with a broken sob, my inner walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.


    He followed with a low, guttural groan, spilling inside me, his body shuddering against mine.


    It was past midnight.


    Iy boneless against his chest, not moving, barely breathing. The only sound was our slowly calming heartbeats.


    "How long has it been since your thirty minutes?" His voice rumbled under my ear.


    I smiledzily. "Twenty. We’ve got ten left."


    Sebastian shifted, pulling my clothes back into ce with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with what we’d just done. "Let’s use thest ten to drive home and sleep in a real bed."


    I shook my head, nuzzling into his warmth. "No. I like it here."


    In this dark, enclosed space, swallowed by the night, it felt like we were the only two people under the moon. I wanted to soak in this happiness, even if I knew, deep down, it might be just out of reach someday.


    "So my Cece likes cars," Sebastian murmured, his lips finding my ear again, making me shiver. "I’ve got an RV. When I have time, I’ll take you on a trip. You can have me wherever you want."


    A thrill shot through me, warm and liquid.


    But reality was a harsh reminder. "You don’t have time. You’ve got apany to run."


    His breath trailed down my spine, over the wings of my shoulder des, settling hot on the small of my back.


    His hand slid between my thighs from behind.


    My body, still sensitive from our earlier passion, responded instantly to his touch.


    "We’ve still got ten minutes," he reminded me, his voice a dark promise.


    My breath hitched as his fingers traced patterns across my skin, reawakening every nerve ending.


    "Sebastian," I whispered, arching into him as he imed me once more.


    And he imed me again.


    The cramped, sweltering space of the car made everything more intense--every movement magnified, every sound amplified.


    His scent--clean sweat, warm skin, something unmistakably him--wrapped around me like an invisible tether.


    I let go. I let him have all of me.


    Again.


    --


    Summer dawn breaks early--by four-thirty, the first hints of light were already creeping into the sky.


    By five o’clock, I was sneaking back into my parents’ home, tiptoeing to my room. I’d told Mom and Dad I might stay over after hanging out with Harper, so at least my arrival wouldn’t raise questions.


    I slipped into the bathroom to wash away the evidence of our passion, Sebastian’s scent still clinging to my skin despite my best efforts. When I finally copsed into bed, my body ached in the most satisfying way.


    I’d need to clean the car thoroughly...ter.


    At eight in the morning, I woke up after only three hours of sleep. The dark circles under my eyes were prominent, but I dragged myself out of bed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.


    "When did you get homest night, honey?" Mom asked, cing breakfast on the table.


    "A little after midnight," I lied smoothly.


    I knew my parents were usually asleep by nine--they no longer stayed up worrying about me like when I was younger.


    Now they trusted me to handle myself.


    Mom made a nomittal hum and peeled a hard-boiled egg with the kind of passive-aggressive precision only a mother can master.


    She slid it onto my te like it was a peace offering--or a bribe.


    "You said you were staying here a few days," she said, not looking at me. "Will you be home for dinner tonight?"


    I slowed my spoon in my porridge. Oh no. That tone. That fake-casual tone


    "Tonight..." I dragged the word out like it hurt. "I might have to workte."


    Which wasn’t a lie. Probably. Okay, maybe a preemptive excuse, just in case she had another one of her "family dinner with the Fosters" nned.


    She didn’t say anything--just a barely-there sigh and a twitch of disappointment. Subtle, but I caught it.


    "What about Friday?" she asked, still ying it cool.


    "Yvonne invited Harper and me to a charity g." I took a sip of coffee, like that settled it.


    "And Saturday?"


    "Business trip," I said, reaching for the toast. "It came upst minute."


    Mom blinked. "A g on Friday and a business trip on Saturday?"


    I gave her a look. "Wee to the working world."


    She let out a long sigh, the kind only mothers and exhausted flight attendants have mastered, and started to stand up.


    Then she hesitated.


    Sat back down.


    "You’re going with Mr. ck, aren’t you?" she asked, tone shifting from resigned to suspicious.


    I didn’t look up. Just mumbled, "Mmhm," into my porridge.


    "Just the two of you?"


    "No," I said evenly. "It’s a work trip. There’ll be a team. Meetings. A lot of PowerPoint."


    "Does it have to be you who goes?"


    "I’m his secretary, so yes, obviously."


    "Cecilia, maybe it’s time to consider looking for another position," Mom said, in that soft, carefully measured voice she used when she was trying not to sound judgmental. "You’re spending a lot of time around him. People notice. And... you know how things go."


    If only she knew something already had.


    My parents weren’t the pearl-clutching type. They didn’t freak out over sleepovers or wine with dinner.


    But when it came to werewolves--especially powerful, emotionally unavable alphas--yeah. They had opinions.


    Loud, unspoken ones.


    And after everything I’d gone through with Xavier, they had every reason to worry.


    "I know what I’m doing," I said quickly, forcing a smile. "It’s not like that. I have boundaries."


    Each word tasted like guilt.


    I scraped thest of my eggs into the trash, rinsed my te with a little too much enthusiasm, and practically bolted toward the stairs.


    Behind me, I heard Mom let out a long, quiet sigh.And then the doorbell rang.


    I froze halfway up the steps, the sound slicing through the quiet like a warning.


    Please let it be a package. Or a neighbor. Or literally anyone who wasn’t going to make this morning worse.


    I opened the door--


    And the breath caught in my throat.


    Because standing there,pletely out of ce and utterly uninvited, was thest person I’d ever expected to see.