Page 32 of Breaking the Alpha
She swirled her tongue along his dick one last time and stood, smirking in satisfaction as she shook her hair out.“Wow, do you taste good.”
Any smooth moves he’d had planned were gone in a flash, all finesse forgotten as he hauled her in for a deep kiss before he pushed her onto the bed.He grabbed the band of those sweet little shorts she was still wearing and yanked them off as he got to his knees and gripped her hips, pulling her to his tongue.
Her long legs draped over his shoulders while he devoured her, bringing her to orgasm with pure animalistic energy and a hefty dose of desperate hunger.It wasn’t until her thighs were quivering against him and her moans had quieted that he slowed enough to savor what he was doing to her.
Her skin was flushed, her back arching off the bed as he held her hips where he wanted her.She had one hand in his hair, the other clawing gently at his bicep while he licked and nipped at her, building her up again to satisfy his own selfish need to feel her come undone on his tongue.
He took his time, slowing his speed and pressure every time she bucked against him, bringing her close to the edge and easing off enough to make her whimper his name.He was relishing in the taste of her, in the knowledge that every shiver and gasp was caused by him and him alone.A wave of possessiveness washed over him and he tightened his hold on her hips, a fire beginning to rage in him at the thought of anyone else being blessed with the privilege of eliciting Angelina’s moans of desire.
As though reading his mind, her hand lifted from his bicep and ran through his hair.“Don’t stop, River,” she breathed, her thighs clenching against him as her orgasm began to crest again.“Please don’t stop.”
Every time she spoke his name, his heart pounded a little harder, her voice reaching deeper into him.Unable to deny her pleas, he took her over the edge, reveling in her unrestrained cries as he kissed his way up her body to her lips.
Her amber eyes fluttered open and she wrapped her ankles around him, her graceful fingers skimming along his tattoos.“Top drawer of my nightstand,” she murmured lazily, keeping her hands on him as he reached over and opened it.
The unopened box of condoms appealed to the inner caveman he hadn’t known was there until the moment he tore it open.His vocabulary consisted of little more than grunts as she ripped one open and slid it down his shaft, pumping him with both palms before she grazed her fingers along his jaw.
He slid one hand under her shoulder to anchor himself as he pushed into her, his head dipping into the crook of her neck when she let out a contented sigh.
“How the fuck does this feel so new?”he murmured against her skin without thinking, stilling inside her to savor the sensation.
Despite Winter’s graphic, disturbing, coming-of-age wrap-it-before-you-tap-it talk when he was thirteen, he’d definitely sowed more than his fair share of wild oats throughout Epson, the neighboring counties, and LA.Sex was never something he had to work for.Opportunities for a quick roll in the hay were plentiful for a guy like him, and he wasn’t one to squander the chance when it arose.After the first few fumbling encounters in his youth he’d started building his skills in the sack, and the stories surrounding those skills merely opened more doors—or legs—for him.
But as he thrust into Angelina, her fingers intertwined with his, her kissable lips parted, the scent of her hair engulfing him, he realized that whatever he’d been doing up until now paled in comparison.Not even their fling in his hotel room could compare.His whole body trusted her now, his instinctive recoil whenever a woman touched his chest and arms nonexistent under her touch.He wanted her to explore him, craved her hands on him.He wanted to wake up next to her tomorrow and feel her warmth against him.
Most of all, he didn’t want to share her.
He didn’t want to bring her into his life where she could be torn apart by his fans.He didn’t want her smiling for the camera because she happened to accompany him to another monotonous networking event.He didn’t want to bring her to his childhood house and see her beauty tarnished when mixed with the memories there.
He wanted to stay here.He wanted to stay in her arms.In her life.In the serenity she surrounded him with.He wanted to protect her from his demons, but he also wanted to banish hers.He wanted to take every one of her nightmares and fears and destroy them, wanted to slay her dragons and present their heads to her on a platter.
“River,” she whispered into his ear, ripping him into the moment he wanted to replay in his mind every night until the day he died.“Please.”
Chapter Thirteen
River yanked thepiercing schedule out of Birch’s hands as he walked by, checked out the upcoming appointments for the day, and ran some of the more complicated procedures over in his head until he realized his brother was watching him.
“What?”
Birch gave him a goofy smile and crossed his arms.“Nothing.Except you’ve been grinning like a fool for a solid week and I’m wondering when I’m going to get to meet the woman who has you practically singing show tunes during closing duties.Because there’s no way you’re this happy just because you have your own apartment.”
Try as he might, his mind went straight to Angelina and forced him to thwart his attempt to scowl.“I don’t sing.”
It was the best rebuttal he had in him, because his brother wasn’t wrong.When he wasn’t working out, poking fresh holes into eager clients, or uploading Jodie-approved photos to his social media, he was being the best fucking tenant ever.
Sometimes they made dinner together then went for late-night drives through the county back roads.Other times they curled up on the sofa and watched movies.His favorite nights were when she broke out her beads and threads and wove him a new bracelet, giving him free rein to brush and braid her hair until she finished and clasped his new piece on his wrist.But every night since they’d crossed the invisible line they’d drawn, he went downstairs to his own room, knowing she was sleeping two flights up.
Birch continued to watch him with amusement as he turned to the cabinets to lay out new supplies.“Jocelyn was wondering if Saturday or Sunday works best for your girlfriend.”
Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder.“Works for what?And I don’t have a girlfriend.I have a landlady.”
“Fine, we’ll call her your landlady.Invite yourlandladyto your birthday party.”Shrugging, Birch gave him an apologetic smile.“I tried to tell Jocelyn not to make a big deal of it, but her mom overheard us and now, well, now it’s a thing with dinner and cake and streamers.I warned them we weren’t really big on birthdays, but Carter women are not exactly easy to redirect.”
His stress level ratcheted up in a heartbeat at the thought of Angelina in their old kitchen, sitting at the table and surrounded by his ghosts.“Uh, I fly out to LA Sunday and my, uh, landlady works Saturday.”
“Until five.”
“What?”
