TEMPORARY MATES, PERMANENT CRAVINGS

🔞 Mature Content Disclaimer

This story contains explicit adult themes, including sexual content, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, and mature language. Intended for readers 18+ only.

The alpha kissed me like he hated how much he wanted me.

His mouth claimed mine with violence, shattering the one rule we had agreed on. No kissing. No feelings. Just breeding.

“Don’t fall in love with me, Lisa,” he warned, his voice rough against my skin.

I laughed, breathless and bitter. I knew exactly what I was to him. A contract. A body. A means to an heir. Something he could use and discard while returning to the mate he truly belonged to.

This was never meant to be about love.

But his touch rewrote my resolve, and the closer I got to giving him what he wanted, the more I realized the real danger wasn’t pregnancy.

It was what would be left of me when this ended.

One

My father was screwing his secretary when I pushed his office door open. Wet slaps and grunts filled the room as he drove into her against the desk.

My mother had spent three hours over the stove, squinting at a recipe she had memorized years ago. She packed my father's lunch and made me promise to watch him eat, since he was always busy. He had also left his phone at home.

I never expected to walk in and find him bent over his desk, his wool slacks bunched around his thighs, buried deep in his secretary.

The sight made me want to vomit.

This was the man who had promised to be home more that weekend for their thirty-year anniversary dinner.

His secretary looked toward the door, eyes widening. She gasped, her face turning a bright, guilty red.

"Oh, shit, Lisa," she breathed.

My father twisted around, flushed and sweating, not even pulling up his pants.

"Lisa, wait—"

I didn’t stay. I ran down the hallway, hit the elevator, and left his shouts behind as the doors closed.

I reached my car, shoved the key into the ignition, and sped onto the highway, weaving through midday traffic before the shock hit.

Then I felt his phone in my jacket pocket. I pulled over, grabbed it, and tried his birthday.

Denied.

His wedding date.

Denied.

I typed my mother’s name.

It unlocked.

That hurt more. He used her name as the key to his secrets.

I opened his messages. The thread with his secretary stretched for months, filled with late-night photos and detailed sexual fantasies. I kept scrolling as the dates slipped into last year.

I typed "divorce" into the search bar. The results loaded instantly.

The lawyer says we can finalize the paperwork before the end of spring. I can’t wait to finally be with you properly.

It was already mid-April.

My grip tightened as I scrolled.

I talked to the realtor today. The house should sell fast. Once it’s done, you can move into the new place with me. A fresh start.