Page 111 of Alphas Like Us
My cock pulses and pulses, and he eats up the arousal in my eyes like my pleasure feeds hispleasure.
I tug his pants halfway down his legs. Farrow grips the back of his black shirt, pulling the fabric off his head. Revealing his nipple piercing and the inked dagger and skull pirate across the ridges of hisabs.
Fuck me.I pull off my jeans, and he throws his own pants off thebed.
Down to boxer-briefs, our mouths crush together again. And we inch off the headboard, until his head meets apillow.
I split his muscular legs open with my knees, and while I deepen the roughest, most untamed kiss, I lower on top of Farrow, my left forearm braced on themattress.
A tinge of pain flares up in my shoulder, but I hone in on the mounting heat that ignitesus.
I grind my hips into him. His mouth-watering erection rubs against my hardening cock every single time I driveforward.
Sweat builds, and between each kiss, our heavy grunts break the quiet. Farrow digs his fingers in my back and rakes his short nails across my skin. Scratching down towards myass.
Fuckfuck.
Our tongues tangle more languidly than the forceful thrust of my hips. His hand—his hand draws down my boxer-briefs and seizes my ass with the hottest goddamnsqueeze.
I tear from his lips, a raspy groan expelling from my burning lungs. Spurring me to grindharder.Rougher.
His muscles strain. “Fuck, Maximoff,” Farrow groans, his other hand clasps my jaw in the best grip. He grapples for the lead and control. About to flip me. But I bear more of my weight on his chest. Staying ontop.
Our eyes attach for a nerve-prickingbeat.
“You want to fuck me?” he asks, his graveled voice stroking mycock.
Goddamn.“More than you want to fuck me,” I breatheheavily.
He nips my lip between his teeth, and he whispers, “Notpossible.”
I rock harder, fabric of boxer-briefs still separating us. My ass flexes beneath his palm. I grind and grind—he grits down, nose flaring in intensearousal.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his lips almost splitting apart in a coarsebreath.
Blood pounds in my veins, and I groan against his neck.Fuck, Farrow.He pushes me as hard against him as he can without causing mepain.
My bound right arm obstructs our bodies fromcompletelymeeting. And my arm jerks in the canvas,wantingandachingto be all over him like he’s all overme.
I lift my head. “Fuck my sling,” I mutter,frustrated.
Farrow pants as hard as me. “It’d be easier if you weren’t on top. If you’d let me flipus—”
“I’m doing great, thanks,” I say, too stubborn to lose the lead right now. Plus, once I’m on my back, I won’t have enough strength to wrestle out from underhim.
Farrow studies my body. My left arm is more carved and toned than ever since it’s been picking up my right arm’s slack. And whatever pain exists in my collarbone has melted beneath five-hundred degree, blood-boilingdesire.
I rock slower and kiss him again, lips stinging beneath the force. And he pushes my ass for a deeper grind.Fuck.
Me.
I need inside ofhim.
Soon.
I lower my mouth to his chest, trailing over the inked lines of a pirate ship. Reaching his nipple, I suck and flick my tongue over the metalbarbell.
Farrow lets out a rougher breath, and he palms mycock.
