Valentine With The Amnesia Alpha

Daniella POV

Our kiss didn't stop. It swept away all the awkwardness and silence that had filled the past week. I lost myself in the warmth of his embrace, his lips tasting sweet as they moved with mine, and his careful, gentle touch sent shivers coursing through me.

Every kiss deepened, drawing me closer to him. When he leaned forward, guiding me gently onto the sofa, I felt myself surrendering completely. His lips traveled from mine to my neck, then to the sensitive curve of my ear, igniting a fire within me.

I closed my eyes, ready to give in. Why not? I knew him far better than the strangers I'd occasionally met at bars after grueling court cases- nights I'd spent trying to escape stress in fleeting, forgettable encounters. Alpha was different. Even if he didn't remember who he was, I'd come to know his kindness, his strength, and the way his emerald eyes seemed to look straight into my soul.

With a surge of boldness, I reached for his sweater, sliding it off him. His chest, lean and strong, glistened faintly in the soft glow of the room. My heart raced as I pulled off my own sweater, leaving me in just my black bra. His gaze locked onto me, his eyes darkening with desire. For a moment, I thought he'd take the next step.

But instead, he shook his head.

He reached for the blanket draped over the armrest, gently covering me . His movements were tender but firm, and when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry... I can't let my desires cloud my judgment."

I blinked, stunned. "I don't mind," I murmured, cutting him off before he could continue.

But he still shook his head.

"You don't want me? My body isn't attractive enough for you?" I asked, my confidence plummeting in a way it never had before. No one had ever turned me down. Men usually couldn't look away when they saw me like this.

His expression softened, and he leaned closer, brushing the blanket over my shoulder with tender care. He took my hand and kissed it gently, his lips lingering against my skin as though imprinting a promise. "It's not that," he said, his voice steady, yet laced with emotion. " You're breathtaking. Every inch of me wants you."

"Then why?" I whispered, my voice fragile, searching his gaze for an answer that would steady my wavering heart.

He cupped my hand in his, his touch warm and grounding. His emerald eyes met mine, a sea of vulnerability and unshaken resolve, and I felt the weight of his sincerity press against my chest. "Because I want it to be more," he said softly, his words gentle but unwavering. "When I give myself to you, it can't just be a moment stolen by desire. It has to mean something—something that lasts. I don't want this to be fleeting, Daniella. I want it to be timeless. I want us to look back on it one day and feel nothing but love, not regret or emptiness."

His thumb grazed the back of my hand, and I could feel the slight tremble in his fingers, betraying the intensity of what he was holding back. "I want you to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I see you—your strength, your brilliance, your heart. You're not just someone I'm drawn to; you're someone I deeply admire. You're someone I respect. And I... I need to be more than this half-formed version of myself to deserve you. I need to remember who I am, to understand if I am enough to stand beside you—a woman who has achieved so much, who deserves the world."

His words hit me with the force of a wave crashing against the shore. No one had ever spoken to me like this—like I was someone to cherish, someone to treasure, someone to protect. My chest tightened with emotion, and my eyes brimmed with tears—not from sadness, but from how deeply his words reached into the hidden corners of my heart.

"I don't want to just be another man who leaves you wondering if you're enough," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Because you are. You always will be. But I need to be a man worthy of you, of this... of us."

I reached out to stroke his cheek, my voice trembling. "That is... so sweet of you."

He smiled shyly, lowering his head to press a soft kiss to my lips. This kiss felt different- deeper, more profound, yet no less restrained. He leaned over me again, and we continued, tangled in each other without crossing any lines.

I ran my hands across the muscles of his back, savoring the warmth of his bare skin beneath my fingertips. His lips explored my neck, my jawline, and my mouth again, all with the same delicate reverence that made me feel like the most precious thing in the world.

Then, suddenly, we heard a loud, roaring noise, like a storm lashing the beach.

"What's that?" I asked, pulling back from him abruptly, my heart racing as I glanced toward the window.

"Maybe a storm," he replied simply, but his focus remained on me, undeterred. His lips sought mine again, and I found myself falling back into the moment, his touch grounding me even as the world outside seemed to rage.

 But then, just as my fingers trailed down the curve of his shoulder, the sound of the door bursting open jolted us both. Alpha and I turned sharply, our hearts racing, as a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"Daniella? Oh, God… You're not alone?" There was a pause, heavy with disbelief "Is this your Christmas party all this time?