Page 33 of The Alpha Experiment
I mean, of course he was naked. I’d seen more werewolves shift back and forth from wolf to human to half-shifted than I could count, more times than I could count. Including my dad and all three of my siblings.
That’d never been awkward. Werewolves had a casual relationship with nudity, and I was more werewolf than human in that regard.
I’d seen Colin naked, too, both when he shifted and just randomly when we’d gone swimming or the like.
But he’d never been pinning me to the ground, straddling me, with his fully-erect cock pointed right at my face.
I couldn’t look at anything else. That thing was fucking huge, long and thick, flushed red and shiny at the tip.
And pointed. Right. At my face.
Somehow it made the rest of him look bigger, too, when I managed to gulp down a breath of air and refocus my eyes. He loomed over me, his chest and shoulders massive, intimidating all on their own without the claws or the fangs…or the giant cock staring me down. His legs looked like they could crush me like a walnut.
I couldn’t get a word out.
Colin leaned down, slowly bringing his face to mine, until I could feel the heat between us. He tilted his head and ran the tip of his nose and the faintest brush of his lips along my jaw, from my ear down to my chin, and then lower, nuzzling into my neck. A faint rumbling growl rose from his chest as he breathed me in.
Scenting me. Like an alpha choosing his mate.
I tried to stay still, but I couldn’t; I stretched my neck, lifting my chin and baring my throat, like someone else had taken control of my body.
His lips found the soft, vulnerable spot right above my collarbone, and his fangs scraped over my flesh, his breath hot and damp. My skin burned, and the itch was back, in my fingers and along the edges of my teeth, for fuck’s sake.
I felt like I was turning inside out, like I couldn’t breathe. I needed himoff of me. I needed him to crush me into the ground. I needed, and I didn’t know why—
I shoved his chest, putting all my strength into it, and it was enough to get his head away from my neck, but no more than that. I was talking, pleading, I could hear my own voice—“…stop, Colin, what the hell are you doing, please stop, please, Colin…”
And then the weight had gone, and he wasn’t on top of me, and I was sucking in breath after heaving breath, lying on my back and staring up at the branch-laced gray sky, letting the glare and the uneven geometry of it fill my eyes until it all blurred together.
“Newt?” His voice sounded as hoarse as mine would’ve if I’d been able to talk.
I managed to turn my head enough to find him, blinking away the afterimage of the sky. He’d crouched a couple of feet from me, and looked almost normal again: just the slightest remnant of the glow in his eyes, but the claws and teeth retracted. The glow hid whatever emotion lurked there, but he was far from calm. His muscles had a rigidity that looked like he was battling a fight-or-flight response of his own.
And he was still erect. That was impossible to miss.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone so flat I couldn’t even tell if he meant it. Or what he was sorry for, exactly. Lying and telling me he wouldn’t fully shift to hunt me? Putting his claws and his fangs against my throat? Getting me up close and personal with his monster cock? “Newt? I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
Something dark blue lay on the ground a little to his right. “Hand me my backpack,” I rasped, and levered myself up onto my elbows.
His mouth set in a hard line, and he did what I said without another word, passing it to me and then retreating a few feet away again, balanced on the balls of his feet with his elbows on his knees.
I fished out my water bottle and guzzled every last drop of it—except what I managed to spill down my neck and into my collar. Gross. Not that it mattered, what with apparently every bit of filth this forest possessed already stuck to my front.
I sat up the rest of the way and put the bottle back in the pack.
“Newt, you need to say something. Even if you’re telling me what a fucking asshole I am.”
I glanced up at him through my lashes, not quite ready to commit to full eye contact. At least his cock seemed to be back down to half mast. That was a start. The glow had gone now, and I could read him at last.
Confusion, and fear, and concern.
With a sigh, I shoved off the ground and made the effort of getting to my feet. I felt like I’d been tossed into a centrifuge and spun at high speed, along with a bunch of rocks. Colin popped to his feet without any effort, the bastard, reached out a hand to help me, hesitated, and then jerked it back.
“I’m fine,” I said, clutching the straps of the backpack like a lifeline. “Fine. Really. I’m—fine.”
Colin let out a gusty sigh, and I knew if I looked up at him I’d see that freaking eyebrow raised. “Are you fine, though, Newt? Because I’m not clear on that.”
That note of exasperation, the fond sarcasm, even tinged with a bitter note of anxiety…it was so familiar that I was able to meet his eyes at last. And smile at him, even, because we’d talk later about what the fuck had just happened, but he was such an asshole, in such a wonderfully familiar way.
