Page 30 of The Alpha Escort Agency
“I don't have a hard-man reputation. I just don't like cats.”
She reaches across and pinches his cheeks. “Aww come on, think of all those cute pussy wussies needing your love and attention.”
He makes a grab for her and yanks her into his lap. “Do you have a pussy that needs my love and attention, Alice?”
She bursts into laughter, covering her mouth with her hands, and he beams down at her. “Smooth, real smooth,” she gasps.
His gaze lingers on her lips and when she regains her composure, he gathers her up towards him, bringing her lips to his.
They're done with talking. He unbuttons his fly and jerks himself free, then positions her so she straddles him, her knees resting either side of him on the sofa and she raises herself, her tongue deep inside his mouth. He holds her by the waist, guiding her down carefully onto his cock, and she shudders as he enters, her mouth stalling on his, but he pushes her down deeper, the tendons on his neck cording as he blows out air through his teeth.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
She can’t help a smile hovering on her lips, and he examines it for a minute like it's an unusual thing of wonder, then launches forward and captures her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he snatches off her jumper. Then they’re moving together, his groin thrusting up to meet her every time she rises and grinds back down onto him. His mouth is everywhere, her neck, her ear, her collarbone, her tit. And his hands are too, one minute clasping at her arse, the next clutching at her waist, and another jiggling her breasts.
When the orgasm hits her, he takes a handful of her hair and forces her head backwards, the pain in her scalp heightening the sensations, and he growls into her exposed throat, the vibration rumbling into her jugular. Then he expands his knot and a fresh stab of pain crashes through her body, soon dissolving away as the feel of him locked to her has them coming together.
???
They spend the rest of the day on the sofa knotted together and fucking. She's vaguely aware that she's going to need to get it professionally cleaned, possibly even replaced. It gets damper and stickier as the day progresses, his come mixing with her slick, their sweat and their spit combining. He fucks her on her feet, bent over the arm, and on her back, buried in the cushions. He fucks her from behind, both of them on their knees resting against the sofa’s belly, and he fucks her on his lap again, her legs twisted around him.
In between, in moments when his knot deflates, he fetches her scraps of food and makes her drink. This time it feels different. She feels more conscious, more aware, as if her brain and her body have decided together that they want to experience this. And this time she has a longing to ensure he's as satisfied as she is, she rocks her hips against him, grinding into him, gripping his hard cock tightly, her hands travelling over the hard planes of his body, her lips on his, her tongue exploring deep inside his mouth.
By late in the evening, she feels full and sated; her belly rounded with his come. He carries her through to the bedroom and lays her out on the bed.
“Don't go,” she says as he makes to stand and leave the room.
“I need to go tidy up,” he says.
She shakes her head, taking his hand and pulling him toward the bed. He climbs up on the mattress, lying out alongside her, and she snuggles up into him, resting her head on his chest, hearing the pound of his strong Alpha heart in her ear. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around her, hugging her in tighter.
“Is it always like this?” she whispers into the darkness.
He's silent for a long time. Did he not hear her? Did he fall asleep? Finally, he rests his lips on the crown of her head and whispers, “No.”
It's what she had suspected. A swirl of emotion flooding through her, a lightness in her chest, a chill down her spine. She's too tired to dissect it now, though, and she closes her eyes and sails away.
When she wakes, it's late morning and rain streams down the windows, the room gloomy. Her head still rests on him and his arm still drapes around her waist. He's sleeping, his body rising and falling with his regular breaths and his head twisted motionless to one side on the pillow. The sheet has fallen away, revealing the whole of his naked body. Her eyes skip down him and her own breath catches in her throat. He's so big, so large, somehow his clothes disguise it, but here, laid out like this, it's clear. There's power and strength to every part of him, his thick hard cock, his solid thighs, his taut stomach, his broad pectorals, his sturdy neck. Even his fingers possess a might to them.
There are tales that in the old days Alphas would crush men's skulls in their hands, and looking at his now, she believes it to be true.
Yet she's not scared of him. He is not hideous, anything but. He is superbly sculptured, masterfully perfect. Once again she's struck by how contradictory he is — brawn and bulk, beauty and grace.
He stirs, his heavy eyelids gradually opening, his eyes focusing. He starts and his head swings around to find her.
“I fell asleep.” He smiles sheepishly.
“I think you needed it.”
“Hmmm.” He takes an inhale. “Do you need me, Omega?'
“No, I just want to lie here and look at you.”
“Look at me?”
“Yeah,” she grins at him and he tugs her towards him.
“It’s been a long time since I cuddled with someone in bed,” he says quietly.
