Page 23 of Rocked By the Alpha
“Your scent is … Fuck! How long until your heat starts?”
“Another three days.”
“And yet you smell like this already? It’s making my mouth water.”
“Sure,” she says, shaking her head. “I haven’t had one in a long while so I think this one is going to be pretty bad.”
“Bad?” he asks, one eyebrow twitching. “They’re usually pretty damn good in my experience.”
“You know what I mean … intense.”
“Intense,” he repeats, inhaling, his broad chest expanding, the buttons straining in his shirt. “I’d usually give you a tour of the place, Omega, but I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait. Come here.”
Her feet carry her towards him, to that strong Alpha scent of wood and leather. His hands are out of his pockets and on her immediately, racing each other up and down the curves of her body, caressing every inch of her, her ass, her waist, her ribs, her breasts. It’s overwhelming, like he’s devouring her, and she closes her eyes, and melts into him, scrabbling at his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin against hers.
“I’m keeping this dress,” he says in her ear, as he slips his finger into the knot of the spaghetti straps and unties. The straps loosen, gliding over her shoulders, and the front of her dress falls away, sliding over her breasts and her hardened nipples, and making her whimper.
“I don’t think it will fit you.” He laughs, and she leans in more, liking the way his ribcage rumbles underneath her palm. “I love your laugh.” The words slip from her mouth before she can catch them.
He stalls for a moment, then his mouth finds her ear, his beard scratches against the shell. “Tell me what else you love.”
“Your scent, your body—”
“How about my tongue? Do you love my tongue?” He licks around the shell of her ear and she shivers.
“Uh huh,” she manages to mutter, her voice all throaty.
“Anything else you love? Anything else you want?”
“You know.”
“Then tell me. Tell me and you can have it, Omega. Any part of me.” He chews her earlobe gently and then rakes his teeth down her throat, sucking along her collarbone in a way she knows will leave bruises.
“I love your cock. Your big Alpha cock.” More than she cares to admit. She loves the way it feels buried inside her, knotted tightly into her cunt.
Her hands skirt down to the fly of his pants, cupping him through the material, feeling how hot he is beneath the fabric.
“And he certainly loves you, Omega,” he mutters. He walks her back towards the door so she’s trapped, his hands braced either side of her head. He looks at her long and hard, her heart pounding in her chest, and then he dips his head and finds a nipple with his mouth. It’s already peaked, and the merest brush of his teeth has her clenching between her legs. She wrestles down his shirt, her own eager hands palming at his muscular chest, and when he nips at her nipple, she tugs at his in return.
He tips back his head to peer up at her. “You want to play dirty, huh?”
Tugging at the bunched up silk around her waist, he yanks it over her hips and lets it pool at her feet. Then he drags his teeth down her navel to the neat little line of curls and he crouches down onto his knees.
“Open up,” he says, nudging his nose between the lips of her sex, butting against her sensitive clit. “Come on, hook your leg over my shoulder, Omega. I need to eat you out.”
She does as he says, allowing the sharp point of her heel to scrape down his back. The action earns her one of his grins, the ones that make her stomach flip.
Still peering up at her, a fist wrapped around each of her thighs, he takes a fleeting lick, his tongue barely touching her. She bucks forward, chasing his mouth but he holds her firm.
“Uh uh, little Omega. My house, my rules.”
She scowls at him and his wicked grin only grows wider.
His tongue swipes at her again and everything between her legs throbs in anticipation, slick beginning to trickle down her thigh. He spots it and catches it with his tongue, following it leisurely up her thigh but halting before he reaches her lips.
“Such a pretty pussy. Pink and swollen and dripping wet. Just like a pussy should be.”
He presses a soft kiss to her labia as if he were kissing her mouth, and she wriggles against him, wanting the scrape of his beard, wanting friction, movement. His eyes are closed as if he’s savouring the moment, but then his lids open, his mouth still pressed against her, and his eyes find her again. They remain locked with hers, as he deepens the kiss between her legs, French kissing her cunt, sucking her lips into his mouth, caressing them between his and tonguing every inch of her.
