Page 35 of With A Little Luck
I wish I could see her face, but I can only assume she’s getting an even more potent hit of my pheromones with the way she sucks on my throat. I’m barely able to move with how tightly she clamps down on my fingers. It’s so easy to imagine what she would feel like strangling my cock the way she does my thick digits.
I’d really love to see that shocked “O” look on her face as I slip just the crown inside her. I wanna watch her tits bounce and feel her clench around every inch of me.
Quincy squeezes the hell out of my shaft as she comes, and even that works in my jacked-up state. It’s when she finally releases her choke hold to start to jerk me off again that euphoria rips through my nerve endings.
Some combination of a groan and growl fills the air as I buck into her grip. She sucks on my pulse like she’s a vampire, and I come in my boxer briefs. The haze of rut tickles my senses, sitting right there, waiting to take over.
Ahh, hell.
Chapter Eleven
Quincy
Hart lets out the sexiest little moan, and my hand gets sticky from his hot cum. A shiver runs down my spine as his strong muscles bulge, and my instincts scream to bite him…
So, I do.
It’s totally inappropriate.
An omega biting an alpha is basically like throwing down the gauntlet.
Hartley snarls, and his pheromones flood the air, along with the scent of his cum. He still has two fingers buried inside me, and my stomach rests almost completely on his forearm. There’s no possible way to hide the giant baby belly, so I ignore it.
He wraps his free hand in my hair, tugging my face from his neck and redirecting my mouth to his.
The kiss is frantic and intense, and it feels a lot like he wants to devour me whole.
The scary thing is… I think I’d let him.
He swirls his tongue around mine, still working his palm against my clit while I circle his crown with my thumb.
Heat pulses in my gut, and I ache to taste him. Tugging my hand free of his boxer briefs, I pull back from the kiss to bring my fingers to my lips.
“Fuck, that’s hot. Are you feeling any better?” His voice is low and gravelly.
I give up licking and move to sucking every bit of his taste from my fingers.
It’s not enough.
A whine escapes, and I beg. My words come out muffled because, apparently, I’m not even coherent enough to pull my fingers from my lips.
Yanking my hand free, I give his shoulder a shove. We ended up on our sides at some point, at least our top halves.
Hart rolls onto his back, and his hand leaves my pussy. I would complain about that, but just getting myself rolled over and onto my knees next to him is such an ordeal that I should be embarrassed about it.
I’ll save that for later.
Getting his boxer briefs off for easier access to his knot is the priority.
My fingers land in the band, ripping with little care.
Hartley flattens his feet on the bed, pushing up to help make it easier to rip off the material. He kicks out of them the rest of the way while I eye his cock like Christmas came early.
“We should probably have a conversation before—” His words cut off as I dive forward, bringing his tip to my lips.
It’s the middle of winter in Vermont, and this house stays chilly. It shouldn’t feel like I’m burning alive from the inside out, but I do. The salty taste of his cum on my tongue only seems to spur my system on.
My clit aches, and my nipples tighten painfully.
