Page 97 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
Her eyes flick up to mine, uncertainty in them, as if maybe she has said too much. But I press my forehead to hers, letting her feel my breath, my heartbeat.
“You deserve to feel like this,” I say. “Every night. Every morning. Every damn moment you want to.”
She swallows hard, then lifts one hand to my jaw. It’s a tentative, soft touch, her thumb brushing the stubble there as if she is memorizing my face. The moment stretches between us, warm and fragile.
And then, she leans in. Her lips brush mine. Gentle at first. Then deeper.
I growl low in my throat and kiss her back like I’ve been dying for this moment. Because I have been. Her body opens beneath me, hips tilting, legs spreading further as her kiss grows bolder, more desperate.
I thrust my fingers deeper, thumb working faster, and she whimpers into my mouth. Her free hand grabs my shirt, twisting in the fabric, pulling me closer.
“Tell me what you need,” I whisper against her lips.
She gasps, panting now. “More. I—I want more.”
“You want to come for me?”
She nods, so shy, so undone—eyes blown wide, lips red from kissing, thighs trembling around my wrist.
“Then, let go, sweetheart,” I whisper. “Come for me. Just like this.”
And when she does—her whole body tensing, her head falling back, her mouth parting with a breathy cry of my name—it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t stop until she’s gasping, squirming, hips jerking from the overstimulation. Only then do I pull my fingers free—slick and glistening—and rest my palm against her thigh.
She’s trembling, but she’s not afraid. Just wrecked. Blissed out. Real.
“Erik…” she breathes, eyes fluttering open.
I brush the damp hair from her forehead and press a kiss there.
“You’re mine now,” I whisper. “And I’m going to show you what it means to be worshipped.”
She’s still trembling when I ease her against the wall, the edge of the dresser pressed to the backs of her thighs. Her breath is ragged, her lashes heavy as she watches me—flushed, open, undone from the orgasm I just gave her.
But she’s not done. And neither am I.
I lean in and kiss her again, slower this time—savoring her mouth, her taste, the way her tongue slips against mine like she’s finally letting go of fear. She melts into me, legs wrapping around my hips, pulling me closer.
And fuck, she can feel it now—my cock straining hard against the front of my jeans, pressed right against her soaked core.
I grind against her, and she gasps, her eyes flying open.
“I need you,” she whispers. “Inside me.”
The words nearly knock the breath from my lungs. “You’re sure?” I ask, even though every part of me is ready to break.
She nods. “Please.”
I growl low in my throat and grab her thighs, lifting her just enough to slide her higher onto the dresser. She clings to my shoulders, holding tight as I reach between us and free myself, my cock hard and aching in my hand.
“Look at me,” I whisper, guiding myself to her entrance, sliding the head through the slick heat of her. “I want to see your eyes when I take you.”
She does. Her gaze locks on mine, wide and pleading and burning with everything she doesn’t know how to say out loud.
And I push in.
Slow. Steady.
