Her Contract Marriage To The Billionaire Alpha

Fantasy

Alyssa POV

He held my hands above my head, pinning me, my body squirming beneath his, his dark charcoal eyes staring deeply into my own. I could feel the hardness of his body pressed against me, the strength he possessed as he used it to prevent me from getting off the bed, while I stared at him in awe, my heart thumping loudly inside my chest. My whole body felt like it was aflame, my mouth dry as I licked my lips in anticipation. His midnight black hair covered part of his face and I longed to see what was hidden underneath, wanting to know who this strange, powerful man was that held me in his grasp, my body aroused as I craved the feel of him inside me with a fierceness and hunger that defied all sense and rationality.

“You’re mine” he rasped, two words that should have frightened me, but instead thrilled me to my core.

I grasped at his shoulders, hearing the possessiveness in his voice and relishing it. I was his. He was here to claim me and I would not deny him. He swooped down to kiss me in an act of dominance, leaving me gasping for air…

I woke up, drenched in a cold sweat, my heart racing in my chest. A dream. So realistic that I had almost felt his kiss as though I was experiencing it in real life. I could feel my arousal, hear the sound of my shallow breathing and felt a twinge of relief that it was nothing more than a dream. I reached out blindly beside me, only to feel the empty space. My fiancée had already left for the day, which was just as well, I thought, with a twinge of guilt, for I could hardly explain the reason for my abrupt awakening or that I had dreamed of a man that I had never met before that created a fierce hunger inside of me and a longing that could not be fulfilled. Something about the man, about the way he moved, about those eyes though, was familiar, even though I could not quite place where I might have seen them before. It unnerved me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

“Oh Alyssa, such men are merely figments of imagination rather than existing in real life” I sighed, reluctantly climbing out of bed and heading into the bathroom to prepare for the day.

A quick shower later, and I was dressed in a form-fitting black dress and heels with my makeup subtly applied, and my hair placed in a sleek ponytail, just the way my fiancée, Theodore Trace, preferred it. When you were marrying a wealthy man with a reputable name such as his, you had to look the part, I thought, studying myself in the mirror and not recognizing the girl that stared back at me with a slightly forlorn look on her face.

My natural auburn hair had been dyed a caramel brown color and was now missing its unique ginger highlights. My brown eyes had long-lost their sparkle and stared dully back at me. I tried to persuade myself that it was merely due to tiredness, that once the wedding was over and done with, I would be myself again, but the words rang hollow inside my mind. My complexion, normally a pale porcelain, was now a sun-kissed honey golden glow, courtesy of a tanning spray and the freckles that littered my nose and cheeks were covered by expensive foundation. I looked nothing like the girl I used to be, and often found I was overwhelmed whenever I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

It was best not to dwell on the past, I thought, with a sigh and resignation. Being dolled up and looking a specific way was all part and parcel of becoming engaged to Theodore Trace, and I had known that when I agreed to marry him. It wasn’t fair to become upset by my choice now. I began to head downstairs, my heels clacking loudly on the floor, carefully making my way down the stairs, smiling and nodding to the maids as I went, not wanting to disturb their work. I would never get used to another human being tending to my every need, but Theodore insisted I would get used to it, like he was. It was at times like this, that he was reminded that both of us came from different backgrounds to his great displeasure, as though my past was something to be embarrassed about.

I glanced at my watch, knowing instinctively that my family would no doubt be in the living room by now. My father and stepmother were early risers and there was a small chance that my stepsister Dahlia would also be with them, excited about the upcoming wedding and what she could do to help me. I knew that they would disapprove of the lateness of the hour as I walked into the room, even though many would still call the hour quite early.

“Good morning”, I forced a fake smile on my face and used a pleasant tone, greeting my stepmother and father who sat on the couch with cups of coffee in their hands.

My stepmother raised a brow and then sniffed, looking at me in disapproval “It’s a bit late to only be getting up now, don’t you think?” she asked me stiffly.

I chose not to answer. My father shot his wife an admonishing look. “Good morning, Alyssa” he said quietly, sipping at his coffee, looking relaxed as he leaned back in the chair.

My stepmother flattened her lips and went silent, much to my relief, and I sighed. In one week's time, the wedding would be over and done with. I just had to be a good hostess until then, I reminded myself inwardly.

The housekeeper, Julia, a woman in her mid-forties, spoke from the doorway. “Miss Jones, would you like some breakfast?” she asked me as I turned and smiled at her gratefully, sitting gracefully down in the armchair and crossing my ankles.

“I’ll have a cup of coffee with cream and sugar please, Julia” I requested.

Julia frowned “and to eat, Miss?” she asked pointedly.

I shook my head. With the wedding coming up, I was trying everything I could in order to be able to fit into the dress, including limiting my food intake and keeping to a strict diet so that I could look my absolute best on the day. The housekeeper reluctantly went on her way with a look of disapproval on her face.

“Good morning” a voice sang out, and I glanced up to see none other than my stepsister Dahlia walk into the room clad in a skintight red dress that showed off her slim figure and pushed up her cleavage, her long blonde hair hanging loosely down her shoulders, a wide smile on her face.

“Good morning darling” my stepmother gushed, fawning over her biological child “did you have a good night’s sleep?” she asked, peering at her closely in concern.

“Yes, of course, who couldn’t in such a soft and luxurious bed” teased Dahlia with a giggle and a wink at me.

At least somebody was happy this morning, I thought, eyeing my stepsister with relief.

The housekeeper, Julia, came in with two cups of coffee in her hands, both with cream and sugar, knowing that Dahlia and I took them the same.

“Thank you” I told Julia, bringing the coffee up to my lips and sipping it, the caffeine beginning to perk me up and revitalize me.

Dahlia practically snatched her cup out of poor Julia’s hand and began to drink it down. I frowned at her lack of good manners towards the housekeeper.

“Anything else?” asked Julia, but I shook my head and indicated that she could leave.

The housekeeper quietly left the room. I sipped at the coffee, my mouth salivating while my poor stomach growled with hunger as I desperately tried to ignore it.

Dahlia looked around the room with a questioning expression. “Where’s Theodore?” she asked, “I thought he was taking the week off to help with the wedding preparations?”

I grimaced “You know what kind of workaholic he is”, I advised with a shrug, “he was already gone by the time I got up. He’ll probably make a half day of it at work and then come back home.”

I was unfazed by his absence, something that made Dahlia narrow her eyes and look at me calculatingly.

“It’s good that he’s so hardworking” my stepmother nodded approvingly while I bit my lip. “It shows he’s a good provider and willing to work hard for his family.”

There were times that I wished he worked less though and spent more quality time with me, but I knew better than to express those words out loud. It felt selfish to have such thoughts about a man that worked tirelessly in order to provide the creature comforts I had the luxury of experiencing at home. Still, there were times I felt lonely, in a house that seemed cold and intimidating, rather than the homely and warm place I had always imagined.

“Miss Jones, a package has arrived, and they are refusing to release it without your signature” Julia brought me back to my senses and I blinked, surprised as she wrung her hands, looking anxiously at me.

“I bet it’s from Theodore” Dahlia breathed, her eyes lighting up as she looked at me. “How romantic of him” she added as I shot her a doubtful look.

Theodore was not the romantic type to send me any gifts or flowers. I was speaking from experience.

I stood up and followed Julia to the front door where the courier was waiting patiently.

“I’m Miss Jones” I told him, signing for the package.

It was beautifully wrapped, complete with a ribbon. I was intrigued as I carried it back into the living room, wondering if Dahlia might have been correct this time. Everybody leaned forward as I placed it on the coffee table and began to undo the ribbon, expectant looks on their faces.

“Open it” urged Dahlia, just as my father turned the television on, the news beginning to sound in the background as I half listened to it while concentrating on opening the box.

“Hold onto your seats and buckle in, because we have just the story for you. The scandal of the year. This couple has been the talk of the wealthy socialites for the past few months as they prepare for their upcoming wedding, but now it’s discovered that already, there might be trouble in paradise.”

I opened the package and then gasped, turning to stare at my stepsister who was just as equally dismayed. So much for it being a romantic present, I thought numbly, this was far worse than anything I could have imagined.