Page 114 of Alphas Like Us
Slowing, I eek out the movement, and more sweat beads up on both our bodies. Skin slick, and hairdampening.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Fuck.” I quicken my rhythm, and I fucking explode.Fuckfuckfuuuuuuck.Lights burst in my vision, nerves scorched alive. I dagger a glare on the ceiling, another gnarled noise in mythroat.
Farrow moans lowly into his arm, his tendons straining in his neck. Face reddening, he cages breath, and I come inside the guy I love. With a few more pumps, I milk my climax, and I watch his grip loosen on the dresser. Glancing back at me, he absorbs my piercedfuck meeyes that still exist forhim.
He’s reallyhard.
Slowly, I pull out. Cum dripping off my tip, and I switch spots with him. As our paths cross, we draw together andkiss.
Not able to separate for awhile.
We push-and-pull for a lead, and I bring his back to the dresser—then he spins me. My back to the wood. I hold his jaw and kiss Farrow with my whole body. My waist, torso, and chest arch into him. Reaching out for his fuckingheart.
And then willingly, I turn and face the dresser. I grip the edge with my only available hand. Giving him access to push intome.
This is still new for me. But the more and more I allow myself to be vulnerable with Farrow, the more my life feels at peace. I’ve found someone who can ease me in this intangible, miraculous, cosmicway.
Farrow places a warm kiss to my bicep before he pulls me back some. Adjusting my stance. “Pain?” he asks, referring to myarm.
“Not that much.” I must’ve rolled my shoulder and neck too far because the tendonsears.
“Where?” he asks, his inked fingers toying with the outside of my hole. I drown in the fucking sensation. He stops. “Maximoff.”
Focus.“Closer to my neck. I’m alright; just fuck me.” I glance over my shoulder, and pain hammers mycollarbone.
“Maximoff. Fuck, I’m not putting my dick in you if you keep hurting yourself to look atit.”
I hang my head forward. My muscles burning. “Who said I was looking at your cock?” I breathe heavily. “Maybe I was looking at thecarpet.”
I was looking at hiserection.
“Sure,” Farrow says. “Let’s pretend you like the carpetmore.”
I picture his tattooed hand wrapped around his length. I’m not at the right angle to see a thing, so my imagination has to be goodenough.
Farrow slips a finger inside of me, then works another.Fuck.
“Relax,” he breathes, one of his hands holds my waist and squeezes likecome on, wolf scout. I won’t hurtyou.
I exhale a controlled breath and try not to tense. My pulse beats harder, bodystirring.
He retracts his hand, and a second later, I feel greater pressure against my ass. My fingers dig into thedresser.
“You’re still ridiculously tight,” Farrow exhales. “Hold on.” He pushes in a little bit, then out. Inching his way inside of me. My body reacts to his kindness more like teasing, and I’m getting worked upagain—
Footsteps.
I hear footsteps. Racing up the staircase. To thisattic.
Farrow hears. But the door should be locked…it’snot.
It’s notlocked.
Farrow is closer, and he pulls out completely and in two strides, he reaches the destination. He flips the lock as soon as the knob jingles and knuckles rap thewood.
“Moffy!”
That’s my littlesister.
