Page 33 of Sold Bullied Mate

I’msowet it’s embarrassing, the scent of the slick, heady in the room. Other than the scent of him, it’s all I can smell, all I can think about. How needy I am, how much I want him to touch me.

He keeps his mouth on me as he reaches down, deftly unbuttoning the jeans he wouldn’t let me touch just moments ago. My legs jerk open as if controlled by invisible wires, and I arch into the touch, though he’s nowhere near where I want him.

Grinning against my breast, he pulls back slightly, breathing hard. I feel the hot fan of his breath over the sensitive skin there, and it makes me shiver. My entire body feels pulled bare, the nerves right up there on the surface, raw.

Everywhere he touches is like he’s at the core of me. I’m a quivering, whimpering mess, and he hasn’t even slid my panties off.

“Kira?” he asks, and I hear the wince in his voice as he asks, “I hate to ask this, but be honest with me. Have you been with an alpha before?”

At this point, I know I should lie. I know that telling the truth just makes me look desperate, needy. But I can’t find it within me to care.

“No,” I gasp, letting my head tip back, my eyes closing as he trails his fingers just under the band of my basic cotton underwear. “Nobody else. Only you. Just now.”

“Fuck,” he buries his face in my neck for a long moment, body shaking like he’s trying to gain control of himself. “Okay—that’s—fuck.”

I breathe heavily for a long moment, and when my hands start moving up his sides, he grabs them by the wrists, yanking my hands above my head and holding them there.

“You have to be patient, okay?” he breathes, eyes flicking back and forth between mine. With a choked laugh, he says, “I’m barely holding it together here, and we need to—I need to make sure you know—”

He trails off, his eyes skipping back down to my breasts, and I feel that tremor run through his body again. A physical restraint.

“I’d like to fuck you, Kira,” he says, eyes rising to mine. “We on the same page about that?”

“Yes,” I’m practically sobbing the word, resisting the urge to writhe under him, to grind my hips into his.Anything to get more pressure down there. I want to cut to the part where he’s inside me, but he’s looking at me like this is important, so I do my best to listen.

“Okay,” he closes his eyes, says, “have you—I’m going to knot, inside you, and it might be painful, okay? For some omegas it is, for some it’s not, but I want you to know before you—”

I could laugh if I wasn’t so fucking desperate. Voice rough, I give in and grind my hips against him, watching as he sucks in a sharp breath, his hand releasing my wrists and going to my hip, holding me in place.

“I’m well aware of how it works, Dorian,” I say, “and if you spend one more second describing it to me, rather than doing it to me, I’m going to—”

He cuts me off by capturing my mouth with his and sliding my panties completely off at the same time. It takes skill, but I’m finally naked. Continuing to kiss me, Dorian only pulls back to get his shirt off, to yank his pants down and toss them to the black depths of the room, where my clothes exist, too.

Once we’re both completely bare, he forces my legs open, growling, grinding the palm of his hand against me, watching as my eyes practically roll back in my head.

“Another time,” he says, sounding like there’s sand in his throat. “I’m going to take my time with you, Kira. Taste every inch of you. But right now—”

I cut him off, reaching down and wrapping my hand around his cock, guiding it best I can toward my entrance. It’s thick, nearly filling my hand, and when I pull, he sways forward, eyes shot. I feel the pulse of need there, in his member, and it makes my entire body flush with heat.

He doesn’t say anything else, but just grabs my hips, notches his tip in my entrance, and meets my eyes once more before sliding himself in.

Chapter 21 - Dorian

I’ve been with other women. Of course I have—I needed anything to take my mind off Kira, to lessen the pain of not being with my mate. It never helped, and in fact, usually just made me feel worse.

But being with other women took time. Effort to work myself up. I needed them in lingerie—always redheads—and almost always had to talk myself into being turned on. If I’m being honest, I ended up imagining the woman I was with had more to her, thicker hips, thighs I could sink my teeth into.

And those women always took time to sink into. I’d have to work them loose first, with my fingers, ease inside.

But Kira? Kira takes me like we were made for each other.

I sink inside her with an ease that makes blood pound in my ears. One second, the tip of my cock is notched in her entrance, and the next, I’m fully seated inside her, the warmth of her surrounding me, her walls fluttering around my cock, squeezing and providing pressure without me moving an inch.

I’ve said it too much, I know, but, running the risk of sounding like a porn star, I say it again: “Fuck.”

It’s the only thing that makes sense. The only word that can describe the way it feels to be inside her. A description of what’s happening, a curse at the way it feels so devastatingly good, a fucking prayer that it won’t stop any time soon.

Kira whimpers and rolls her hips against me, and I realize I’ve paused, sat like this for far too long. The roll of her hips sends a wave of lust through me so long that I don’t realize what I’m doing, but I have her hips in my hands, and I’m pulling out, slamming into her again.

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