Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One

Hailee's POV

His body went still for a second, as if my sudden move had short-circuited his thoughts. Then, with a low, almost involuntary sound deep in his chest, Nathan's hands came up—one cupping the back of my head, the other sliding around my waist—and he kissed me back. It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't careful.

It was heat and hunger all at once, his mouth claiming mine like he'd been holding back for far too long. The back of my knees brushed the edge of his bed, and I realized I'd been walking backward without even noticing. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding on like I'd drown if I let go.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged. His eyes, dark and sharp, searched mine like he was trying to read every thought in my head.

"Hailee…" he said slowly, almost like a warning. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Yes." My voice didn't shake, even though my heart was a drum in my chest. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

He studied me for another beat, jaw tight, before his hand slid down my arm, fingers brushing mine in a slow, deliberate touch. "You are drunk."

I frowned. "I'm not." He seemed to believe me but let go of me and walked towards the mini fridge. I furrowed my brow as I watched him take out a bottle of water.

Nathan twisted the cap off the bottle and held it out to me. "Drink."

I stared at it like it was poison. "I'm not thirsty."

"You walked here in the middle of the night," he said, his voice low but firm. "You're drinking it."

Something in his tone made me sigh and take it from him. The cool water slid down my throat in a few gulps, but the taste didn't wash away the ache in my chest. I set the bottle down on his desk, my hands suddenly restless.

Before he could step away, I moved closer—close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. My arms slid around his neck, my eyes locked on his.

"Nathan…" My voice was soft, almost pleading. "Make love to me."

His hands gripped my wrists gently but firmly, peeling me off him just enough to put space between us. "Hailee, no. You're not yourself right now."

"I am myself," I shot back, my pulse pounding in my ears.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze steady. "Your feelings are confused. You think this is about me, but it's not. It's about everything you're running from."

I clenched my jaw. "Number one—I'm not drunk. Number two—forget about what's going on and just… fuck me."

"Hailee—"

"I said forget it!" I snapped, frustration burning through me. "I should've just gone to Callum!"

That did it.

His eyes darkened instantly, the air between us shifting. I turned, ready to storm out, the pain in my chest twisting into something sharper—but before I could take a step, his hand closed around my wrist.

In one hard pull, he spun me back to face him, his grip firm. His mouth crashed into mine, the kiss fierce, almost punishing, stealing my breath.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was a growl. "Say that again."

My lips parted, confused. "What—?"

"That you should've gone to Callum," he said, his tone dripping with a possessive edge I'd never heard from him before. "Say it again. I dare you."

I swallowed, my heartbeat tripping into chaos.

"Don't you ever say that again," he went on, his thumb brushing my jaw in a deceptively gentle stroke, "you belong to me."

My heart raced, my eyes interlocked with his. "Then just fuck me."

Nathan didn't answer me.

Instead, his gaze locked onto mine—intense, unreadable—but there was something different in his eyes now. Something that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

Then he kissed me.

Not like before. This was deeper, heavier… more passionate. The kind of kiss that told me without words that he had stopped fighting whatever war he'd been waging inside himself.

His hands moved with purpose—one sliding into my hair, the other tracing down my spine until it found the hem of my shirt. With a single, fluid motion, he pulled it over my head and let it fall to the floor. My skin prickled in the cool air, but his touch burned hotter than any fire.

His mouth barely left mine as his fingers worked at the clasp of my bra, and when it came free, he pushed it off my shoulders. His eyes flicked down for a second, darkening before coming back to meet mine, as if daring me to look away. I didn't.

Piece by piece, he stripped me naked until there was nothing between me and his gaze.

Without breaking eye contact, he guided me back until my knees hit the edge of the bed. I lowered myself slowly, my arms resting behind me on the mattress for support, watching him like I was memorizing every move.

Nathan's hands went to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, the dim light catching on the lines of him. He reached for his belt next, the soft metallic click of the buckle making my breath hitch.

I couldn't look away but watched with anticipation.

He unzipped his jeans, pulled them away, and was left in his black underwear, and my eyes caught sight of his already hardened cock pressing against the underwear, wanting to be free.

While holding eye contact with me, Nathan hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, his movements deliberate… unhurried… like he wanted me to watch. The muscles in his abdomen flexed, a faint shadow running down the center of his stomach.

The air between us felt electric, each second stretching out until my pulse roared in my ears. His gaze never wavered, pinning me in place as if the rest of the world had gone silent.

He pushed the fabric lower over his hips, the motion slow, purposeful, almost taunting. My breath caught—heat curling low in my stomach—not because of what I was seeing, but because of the way he was doing it. By the time the fabric slid lower, my chest was rising and falling too fast, my fingers digging into the sheets for balance. The faint smirk on his lips told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

And then, without breaking eye contact, he stepped forward—closing the last bit of space between us.