Page 17 of The Alpha's Gamble
I squeezed my eyes shut against the burgundy starbursts exploding in my vision, but it didn’t help at all. The duvet cover rubbed against my lips, and I chewed on a bit of it, tugging it between my teeth and trying to focus on that.
“I really should be making you count them. Maybe next time. Seven.”
This time his hand came down so roughly and so fast it made me moan, panting into the bed and quivering.
I’d thought pain didn’t bother me. I’d never been afraid of it, anyway.
But it turned out that it mattered a lot what kind of pain it was, and how it was given to you.
And it mattered even more that my erection hadn’t died down at all. If anything, every jolt of MacKenna’s hand slapping my ass hardened it more, drew my balls up tight and aching, their swinging motion tugging on something deep inside me.
It mattered that this wasn’t something I’d chosen, like that time I’d eaten shit on a Ducati going ninety and stripped half the skin off my right side and broken a couple of limbs. I’d rolled around and groaned and cursed, stripped off what was left of my riding leathers, staring glassy-eyed at the mingled blood and cherry-red paint streaked all over the asphalt until I healed enough to try to stand up.
That had hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced before or since. A lot worse than MacKenna spanking me, even though he wasn’t going easy on me, letting his alpha strength out to play.
This still…hurtmore, in a way I couldn’t make sense of even without having to put it into words. It cut at the very core of who I was.
An alpha. A man who made my own decisions. Someone who never had to answer to anyone for anything—okay, except for when my father or my brother had scolded me for spending too much money, but I pretty much ignored that anyway—let alone fortaking eight minutes extra to eat my fucking lunch.
My own harsh breaths echoed in my ears. I opened my eyes. The final blow hadn’t fallen. Gods, that was so much worse than simply feeling the pain of it: waiting for it, the skin of my ass on fire, flinching in anticipation of flinching again when he struck.
“That was seven,” I managed hoarsely, and then wanted to hit myself in frustration without waiting for him to do it. So fucking stupid. What if he’d miscounted and thought he was done? “Fuck,” I muttered.
MacKenna laughed. “I thought I’d save the last one for when you could really appreciate it.”
For when I could really…a click and a soft squelching sound told me what he was using his right hand for, now that he’d paused in spanking me with it. Lube. He’d stepped away from me while I undressed, and he’d gotten a bottle of lube.
Slick fingertips stroked down the crease of my ass, from the small of my back down to my balls. I squirmed away involuntarily, clenching even more—both useless gestures, because MacKenna shoved his fingers between my cheeks and found my hole unerringly, his index finger prodding against it with irresistible force.
I’d never been penetrated. The press of his finger had me gasping, clawing at the bedding to try to get away, stiff cock trapped horribly in a fold of the duvet and pushing down painfully with every motion.
I tried to resist anyway, and I held my muscles as tight as I possibly could.
He shoved inside, only up to the second knuckle, a couple of inches of finger.
But it felt like he’d torn me open. Not because it hurt; it only hurt a little bit. Because he’d breached me. He had a part of him inside my body.
His cock down my throat and choking me hadn’t felt this intimate, even though that had technically been inside me, too. But I’d had cocks in my mouth before.
MacKenna didn’t move his hand at all.
After a moment I stopped moving too, hyperventilating into the bed and staring at the opposite wall, trying to regulate my breathing and my racing heart by focusing on the shadow cast by the nightstand. Perspiration coated my skin, clammy and awful.
“First time?” His voice didn’t give much away. Maybe if I’d been able to see his face, like I had when I sucked him off and his eyes had shown me something more…but he was only a voice, relentlessly unmoved. “You’re going to need to relax a little, Castelli. I’d have thought a party boy like you would’ve had something up your ass before now.”
Well, now he’d given something away, and it was sardonic amusement, bordering on contempt.
I preferred no emotion at all to that, thank you very much.
“That’s not my kind of party,” I choked out.
MacKenna chuckled and pushed his finger in the rest of the way. “We’ll see about that.”
He started to work it in and out, bending it to stroke my insides as he moved.
It was excruciating. I couldn’t escape it; I couldn’t move away, or twitch him off of me, because he was embedded in me. And the more the pressure built, as he brushed over too-sensitive flesh, the more he stimulated nerves I hadn’t even realized could send sparks up my spine like that, and the harder my cock got, until it throbbed almost painfully with the need for a hand or a mouth, anything.
Quiet whimpers and moans echoed in my ears.
