Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 87: Safe

As Dax’s lips pressed gently against the sensitive skin of Chris’s shoulder, the oga felt a wave of sensation wash over him. The touch was so light, so reverent, that it almost felt like a whisper. His body reacted instinctively, a shiver running down his spine, and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch, seeking more.

Dax’s hand, which had been tracing the line of Chris’s jaw, moved to cup the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape. The gesture was possessive yet gentle. Chris’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as Dax’s lips moved from his shoulder to his neck, leaving a trail of warmth and tingling sensation behind them.

"Dax," Chris whispered, his voice barely audible, a mixture of a plea and a request. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, only that he needed sothing more.

Dax’s response was a low murmur against his skin, a sound that vibrated through Chris’s body, making him tremble with excitent. "I’ve got you," he said, his voice steady and sure, a promise that kept Chris grounded amidst the whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

The room seed to spin around them, the soft amber light casting long shadows that danced across the walls. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in a deeply intimate mont. Chris’s hands found their way to Dax’s shoulders, gripping tightly, his nails catching the thin material of his alpha’s shirt.

Dax’s lips returned to his, the kiss deeper and more demanding this ti. Chris t the demand, his own need rising to match it. Their breaths mingled, their hearts beat in sync, and the space between them dissolved, replaced by a connection that was as profound as it was unexpected.

As the kiss deepened, Dax’s hands road over Chris’s body, exploring and morizing, each touch a promise of more. Chris arched into the touch, his body aching with a need he hadn’t known existed. The world narrowed down to the feel of Dax’s lips on his, the weight of his large body pressing against him, and the heat of his touch searing into his skin.

The alpha’s hands lowered on Chris’s waist, then lower on his hips, thumbs drawing circles there, then sliding under his waistband.

Chris’s breath hitched, realizing what was happening and where it was going and without thinking, he said, "Wait!" His hands were on Dax’s.

Dax froze instantly.

For a mont, all that existed between them was the sound of Chris’s heartbeat, pounding so loud it felt like it was echoing through both their chests. Dax’s hands stayed exactly where they were, the warmth of his skin still burning against the oga’s, but unmoving now, bound by restraint rather than hunger.

Chris’s eyes fluttered open. His pupils were blown wide, his lips swollen, and his chest rising and falling too fast. He looked dazed, caught sowhere between instinct and thought, between what his body wanted and what his mind could bear.

Dax’s voice, when it ca, was quiet. "Alright."

The word was a promise, low and rough. He eased his hands away from Chris’s hips and rested them on the mattress instead, close enough that their fingers still brushed. His scent, strong and intoxicating, pulled back too, a subtle retreat that cost him more than he’d ever admit.

Chris’s breath trembled. He could still feel where Dax had touched him, where every kiss lingered like heat pressed into mory. His body scread at him to move closer again, to take what was offered. But his mind, raw and unsteady, still reeling from the loss of control, knew he wasn’t ready.

"I..." he started, but the words caught.

For a heartbeat, Dax couldn’t move. His hands were still pressed into the sheets, muscles locked, his knuckles white. Every nerve in his body scread to continue, to take what his instincts claid was already his, but the sound of that single word echoed louder than his pulse.

He closed his eyes. The weight of his body hovered above Chris’s, close enough to feel the tremor of his breath and the heat radiating off his skin. So close. Too close. He had been a heartbeat away from marking him, his oga, the one who drove him past logic, but that wasn’t how he wanted this.

Slowly, Dax drew in a breath and forced his instincts down. The air in the room shifted. His pheromones, once sharp and heavy, softened, spice and rain instead of smoke and fire, rolling over Chris like a quiet tide ant to soothe. Beneath him, the oga’s muscles eased, the tension bleeding out of his fra until his breathing evened again.

Dax pressed a final kiss to Chris’s shoulder, this one feather-light, almost apologetic.

He lingered there, his lips barely brushing the warm skin at the curve of Chris’s shoulder, one last trace of heat before he lifted his head. The air between them still trembled, thick with everything that had almost happened and everything he’d chosen not to take.

Chris’s eyes were closed now, his body slack with exhaustion. His breathing ca in soft, uneven pulls that slowly evened out under the calr tide of Dax’s scent. The edge of tension that had ruled the night was fading, replaced by sothing quieter, heavier, and almost sacred.

He reached for the blanket and drew it up over Chris’s bare shoulders. His hands were steady again, though his pulse wasn’t. He didn’t move away yet; he couldn’t convince his body to move away. Instead, he slipped an arm beneath Chris’s waist and pulled him gently closer, careful not to startle him.

The oga lted against him without thought, instinct overriding reason, his forehead finding its familiar place against Dax’s chest. That simple trust, the way his body sought him even now, made sothing fierce and protective surge through Dax’s veins.

He brushed a thumb along the edge of Chris’s jaw, tracing the faint tremor that lingered there. "You’re safe," he whispered, voice low enough to vanish into the space between heartbeats.

Chris murmured sothing half-asleep, a sound that wasn’t quite words but still managed to quiet the storm that had been roaring inside Dax’s mind. He didn’t fight it. He let himself breathe him in, the faint scent of clean skin, of rain, of sothing that felt like ho but terrified him all the sa.

Minutes passed. The world outside their room fell away; he cleared his mind of the political problems, the kingdom, and his enemies. Just this: the steady rhythm of the oga’s heartbeat pressed against his own, the way his hand unconsciously fisted in the sheets near Dax’s ribs as if to keep him there.

Dax tilted his head slightly, letting his chin rest against Chris’s hair. He could sll himself on him. The thought should have satisfied him. It didn’t. It only deepened the ache that sat sowhere between his ribs, that constant need to protect what he wanted so badly to touch.

He had ruled nations, burned cities, and crushed rebellion with a flick of his hand, and yet here, in the dark, he couldn’t even trust his own body not to break the peace he’d just built.

"Little moon," he murmured, so softly it barely stirred the air. "You’ll ruin ."

But there was no anger in it. Only awe.

Chris shifted again, a quiet sound escaping his throat, the kind of sound that made every ounce of restraint worth it. His breathing evened, slower and heavier, his body sinking fully into rest.

Dax’s arm tightened once, instinctively, then stilled. His pheromones pulsed faintly, wrapping around them both, a silent wall against the world outside.

He waited until Chris’s hand loosened on the sheets before closing his own eyes.

Sleep ca slowly, but when it did, it found him holding the oga exactly as he had promised: gently, protectively, without claim.

The last thing he felt before drifting off was the warmth of Chris’s body against his and the steady reminder that this was what it ant to belong.