Alpha's Desire Page 8

  “You think you’re the bad boy?”

  His brows twitch. “Yeah. You don’t?”

  I don’t. Not at all. Sure, he has tattoos, but this isn’t the 1980s. Tattoos are the norm these days. No, I don’t have one yet, partly because my parents would flip, but I’ve been planning to get one. As soon as I think of something perfect and decide on a place no one will see it. Like the top of my ass.

  “You just held the car door for me. You protect me from creepy guys. You fed my grandma applesauce. No, I’d say you’re the hero.”

  Jared stares at me. His hazel eyes catch the light and glow and I lose my breath for a moment, because I swear I can see the wolf in him. I don’t mean he shifted, I just mean… I saw something.

  Wolfy.

  “Come on. I’m not the guy you’d bring home to meet your mother.”

  Okay, that’s true. For some reason, my stomach knots imagining it. But that’s because my parents are judgemental ladder-climbing high society people who need me to be a certain way to reflect better on them. It has nothing to do with Jared.

  I choose not to respond to that line. “To me you’re more military hero than bad boy.”

  Vulnerability flickers over Jared’s face before he turns his attention to starting the car and driving.

  I don’t say anything more because I can tell I’ve hit a nerve, but I don’t know why.

  “That’s funny.” He doesn’t look at me. “I was always the good-for-nothing, never-amounts-to-much guy who got into fights.”

  A chill threads through me, chased by hot anger. “Says who?” I demand. I’m ready to go toe-to-toe with anyone who believes such stupidity.

  He shrugs. “My parents. My alpha.”

  “Garrett?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “Garrett’s dad. Garrett was a bit of a rebel, too—our leader. We broke off from his dad’s pack as worthless teenage wastes and moved here to raise havoc in Tucson.”

  His words leave a sour taste in my mouth. “You’re operating from a pretty outdated viewpoint of yourself, Jared.”

  Uncertainty flickers on his face again and I lean toward him. “You’re the farthest thing from a waste I’ve ever seen.”

  A wall falls in place behind his eyes at the word waste. “Come on. Garrett may have made something of himself, but I’m nothing but his muscle. A bouncer at a nightclub. That’s hardly carving a place for myself in the world. Violence is all I’ve ever been good at.”

  For some reason, my eyes burn at his declaration. I don’t want to believe him—I don’t believe him—but the violence part scares me. He’s already made it plain his kind are far more violent than average humans. I realize he’s warning me about himself again.

  I’d be stupid not to heed the warning.

  But even if he is violent—even if he’s something I don’t understand—I still know the truth.

  This man is worthy.

  Of so much more than he believes.

  “Well—” I clear my throat, trying to reason my way through his beliefs. “There’s a place for warriors. If we were in medieval times, you’d be the most revered of all men. The deliverer of justice, protector of honor.”

  Jared pulls up at my place and turns off the car. He stares at the steering wheel, his expression a turmoil of emotion.

  “So you just have to figure out how the warrior fits into modern day times. If it’s being the enforcer for your pack and the bouncer at a club, that’s not less important than any other role in society. You’re still the knight. I mean, you are to me.”

  Jared throws his door open and gets out without speaking.

  Did I offend him? My mind replays what I said.

  My door flings wide and Jared reaches in and unbuckles my seat belt. There’s dark determination in his face that I can’t decipher. He picks me up like a kid out of a car seat, and hooks his forearm under my ass, lifting me to straddle his waist. The moment his lips meld to mine, I understand.

  It’s not dark determination—it’s passion.

  He carries me to the front door without breaking the kiss.

  Like the princess with the knight, I surrender, arms twined around his neck, lips twisting over his.

  Any intellectual objections I might have to Jared are lost not only to my physical desires—which have been off the charts since our interlude this morning—but now to emotional currents, as well. The intensity coming off Jared in waves is something I’d rather die than interrupt. Because it’s all directed at me.

  And I’ll be damned if I’m going to block it this time. Jared has something to give me. And I want to accept.

  He carries me toward the bedroom, but I get self-conscious and break the kiss. “Jared, I should shower—I danced all day.”

  He veers to the bathroom, taking my mouth again. I’m lowered gently to my feet, and he pulls my t-shirt off over my head. My belly shudders on an inhale as he stares at my bra-clad breasts like a starved man.

  And then his mouth is on mine again, his hand tangled up in my hair. He backs me up until my butt hits the bathroom counter and he presses the hard bulge of his cock in the notch between my legs.

  I moan against his lips.

  Jared breaks away and closes both hands into fists, strain showing in the tightness of his jaw. He cages me between his two fists on the counter, but doesn’t touch me.

  “Take off your bra, Angelina.” His voice is deep and gravelly.

  I reach behind me and unhook it, letting the cups fall down as the straps slide off my shoulders.

  Jared still doesn’t touch me, but his gaze is a laser beam on my breasts, and there’s wonder in his expression. “I’m trying to go slow, here, baby.” A note of agony creeps into his voice. “Fates know I want to shove those knees wider and pound you until tomorrow.”

  My pussy clenches at the declaration.

  “But you deserve so much better than that.”

  “Let me get in the shower,” I murmur, still intent on cleaning up for him. I changed out of the leo and tights at school, but I still feel grubby from my classes.

  His only reply is to slant his lips over mine again, licking into my mouth with his tongue. He eases back, though, pulling my ass off the counter and twists away to turn on the water. He’s back a moment later, hands coasting down my sides, cupping my ass.

  I yank the button on my shorts open and shimmy out of my panties as he claims my mouth again. It takes all my will-power to pull away, but I do. “I’ll be right back,” I murmur and back into the shower.

  The water is the perfect temperature, but all I can think about it soaping up quickly to get back to Jared. As it turns out, he wasn’t waiting.

  The shower curtain opens and there he is in all his male glory. And let me tell you—Jared without clothes is breathtaking. He’s pure muscle, and a lot of it. Tattoos wind around his shoulders and down his forearms. Golden chest hair curls over enormous pecs. His abs are defined enough to trace, quads thick and powerful. If we’d been coloring a model like him in our anatomy coloring books, I’d remember the curve of every muscle, no matter how small. Because it’s clear he uses them all.

  And then there’s his cock. I saw it this morning, but it’s flying full mast now, pointed right at me. In one large paw, he holds a foil packet.

  He’s on me before I’ve looked my fill, taking the soap from my hands and rubbing it down my back as he melds his mouth over mine again.

  I moan into the kiss, rub my stiff, wet nipples against his chest.

  “Angelina.” His voice rasps against my neck. The soap drops but he doesn’t retrieve it. He reaches the hand cupping my ass between my legs and strokes my swollen pussy.

  I’ve never felt so beautiful, so desirable. My body is on fire for Jared and I want to give back as much as I’m getting. I hike one of my knees up to wrap around his waist, and grind my clit down on the root of his shaft.

  His fingers slip between the crack of my ass and I gasp when he zeroes in on my anus with the pad of one finger. L
ike the first time he touched me there, I squeeze my cheeks closed reflexively. It doesn’t stop him, his wet digit slides over my most taboo of holes as if he’s confident it will give me pleasure.

  And—oh hell—it does. I don’t want it to—it’s so freaking embarrassing—but yes, I’m rubbing harder over his cock. I’ve never been this turned on in my life—I’m already halfway over the crest into orgasm, just from his finger between my crack.

  But no, it’s so much more than that. It’s not even the mechanics—it’s the energy behind everything Jared brings to this. I sense the gift in it. He’s not taking for himself. He’s honoring me. My body. With all of him.

  I snatch the condom from his fingers and tear it open with my teeth. Jared grips the base of his cock and holds it for me to roll on the rubber. His breath hisses in over his teeth when I make contact and I realize his thighs are shaking as much as mine.

  As soon as the condom is on, he pushes me back against the shower wall, pulling my knee up to his hip again. The head of his cock prods my entrance and I mewl with excitement, the need to have him inside me so intense.

  “Yes, Jared,” I gasp when he rocks his hips and applies a little pressure.

  “Does that feel good, baby?” He pushes the wet hair out of my eyes, gazes down with an intensity that rocks me.

  My mouth falls open as he parts me, eases inside. “Yes,” I manage to answer.

  “Good,” he murmurs, taking my hips with both hands and tipping me to just the right angle. He drives in deep—so deep I catch my breath as he fills me, and then he’s kissing me again, his tongue fucking my mouth with the same rhythm as his long cock.

  I can’t get enough. I nip his lips, kiss back with all I’ve got. I need this like I need air to breathe. Water to drink. Dance in my life.

  My eyes roll back in my head with every thrust. I’m half gone with delirium—I wouldn’t know my own name if you asked me.

  Jared’s lids droop, his fingers tighten to bruising strength around my hips. The water runs down our bodies, only adding to the intensity of sensations.

  Before I come, he turns off the water and throws back the curtain. He pulls my other leg around his waist and carries me out, then grabs a towel and wraps it around my back as he heads to the bedroom.

  He lays me on my back on the towel, our bodies still connected intimately. As soon as I’m down, he pistons into me, holding my hips and sinking so deep.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to thank him, to beg him, to say a million stupid things, but instead I moan, rolling my head from side to side as he plunges deep and retracts, over and over again.

  He brings the pad of his thumb to my clit with one hand, pinches my nipple and pulls with the other.

  I arch up, thrusting my breasts toward the ceiling, a hoarse cry issuing from my lips. “J-Jared,” I gasp.

  “Take it, baby. Take it all.”

  I let go, flipping backward into a spiral of pleasure, of release. My pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing and pulsing around his thick length.

  I see galaxies, shooting stars, the incredible void of everything and nothing at once. My body knows nothing but pleasure and I succumb to it fully. When my sight returns—or maybe when I open my eyes, I can’t be sure—Jared’s watching me with that heavy-lidded gaze, rocking slowly in and out.

  I realize he hasn’t come yet and I scramble up on my elbows. He pulls out and lifts me to my hands and knees, crawling up on the bed behind me.

  “Grab the headboard, baby,” he directs me softly. There’s command, but also so much tenderness in his tone. I’ve never had a man like him, but it’s exactly what I need, what I’ve always craved. This is the man of the fantasies I didn’t even know I had.

  I scoot forward to hang on to the headboard.

  “That’s it. Tell me if it’s too much.” He thrusts into me again and I instantly understand his concern. In this position he drives even deeper. His hips snap, throwing me forward with force. I have to brace my arms against the headboard to keep from flying into the wall, even though he holds my waist.

  It’s delicious. Too much and not enough at once. I feel both like a treasured princess and a dirty slut at the same time. I’m flying so flipping high, drunk on Jared, on all the need and desire he’s woken in me.

  “Fuck, yes. Arch that back for me, baby.” He drags a palm down my spine and lays a light slap on the side of my ass.

  I arch for him—I’d do anything he asked right now. Especially when he uses that reverential tone, like I’m the goddess of sex herself.

  His breath grows heavy, movements get jerky. It gets too rough—not for my pussy, but for my back and shoulders. Before I have to say something, he shifts, laying his torso over mine and bracing one hand on the headboard next to mine. He brings his other hand to my breast, and pinches my nipple, rolling it between his fingers and tugging.

  I moan. He strokes his hand down the plane of my belly and finds my clit again.

  I shudder, but he bites my ear. “Not until I tell you, baby.”

  I quiet, listening.

  “Do you understand? You don’t come until daddy tells you.”

  I have no idea why he called himself daddy, but it flips some switch in me. It’s dirty and hot. My pussy contracts, toes curl, arches lift.

  He chuckles, his lips right at my ear. I savor the deep rumble, internalize the notes like it’s the music I’m dancing to. He sits back on his heels, pulling my hips with him, so we’re both sitting up. I squirm over his cock, missing the thrusting, and he uses his hands at my waist to lift and lower me over it, faster than the Energizer Bunny.

  “Oh my God, oh my God.” I won’t last long. Why he did he tell me to wait? I seriously don’t know if I can, and yet disobeying him is an impossibility.

  I’m lightheaded, every nerve in my body buzzing, buzzing. He’s jackhammering into me as I bounce, my small breasts jiggling, my wet hair swinging.

  “Fuck, I just can’t decide how I want to come in you, baby. Every view is better than the last.”

  I look over my shoulder at him and he growls. “Yes, goddammit. I want to see that pretty face. Turn around.”

  I spin around and straddle his waist, but he lays me onto my back and sits back up, so my ass lays on his hard thighs, legs wrap around his waist. He curls his hands around the tops of my thighs, wrapping them around to grip my ass and pulls me back and forth over his cock.

  “That’s it. Look at me, baby. Just like that.”

  Even if I wasn’t too far gone to be self-conscious about being watched while I come undone, his gaze is one hundred percent appreciative. I bask in the hot spotlight of his green stare. He thumbs my clit and fucks me, all the while rumbling—no, growling. But it’s more like a purr than a snarl.

  He switches his hands, sliding them under my ass and parting my cheeks. When he taps my anus with a finger, I’m lost.

  “Now, baby. Come for me.” He guttural tone is as urgent as my desire. For the second time, I shatter, my hips snapping up and down, as the release uncoils faster than a whip. The orgasm is even bigger than my last one. I scream, cupping my own breasts, squeezing my nipples like Jared did, pushing and rubbing hard against him.

  Jared lets out a roar and rises to his knees. My ankles end up over his shoulders and he fucks me hard, his loins slapping against my ass while he holds the fronts of my thighs. His face contorts, eyes glow more yellow than green.

  “Fates, yes, Angelina!” he shouts. His mighty thighs flex, the muscles of his chest and neck bulge and his handsome face contorts. I swear I feel the heat of his cum, even though he’s wearing a condom.

  A shudder of pleasure runs through me, the aftershock from my orgasm and my pussy squeezes his cock.

  Jared groans. “You milking it all out of me, baby?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  He doesn’t move, just watches me with his hooded gaze, his cock still buried deep inside me. After a long moment, he circles an arm around my waist and bends down to kiss my belly.


  “Beautiful girl. I don’t want it to end.” But it does end. He eases out and walks to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I watch his muscular ass flex as he leaves and sigh.

  I don’t want this to end, either.

  But it has to, doesn’t it?

  Jared

  I return to Angelina with another towel. She hasn’t moved, her lovely lithe dancer form sprawled on the mattress like a work of art. I guess in her case, her body is her art. Makes her art.

  What a spectacular medium.

  I should be finished. I just fucked her ever-loving brains out. No—that’s not true. I made love to Angelina.

  It’s something I’ve never done before. I’m a rough lover. Demanding. Dominant. I still feel all those things with her—still want to spank her ass pink and tie her up, but what I just did with her? It was totally fucking different.

  And even knowing she didn’t want us to be intimate, I couldn’t pull back. I needed to make love to her work of art body. I needed to show her without words how much her words meant to me. What she does to me.

  And now I can’t stop myself from crawling up on the bed and pulling her knees apart. I lower my head and drag my tongue through her folds.

  She moans and tries to push my head away. “No more. I can’t take any more.”

  I lick again. “Are you sore, angel?”

  “No. Yes. But it’s not that. I just—I can’t take any more. It’s too much.”

  “Oh baby. You don’t get to tell me what’s too much. I decide how much pleasure you get. When you get off. How hard. Don’t think I didn’t notice how much you liked it when I made you wait for your orgasm.”

  Her pale slender fingers tangle in my hair. Despite her words, she’s pulling my mouth closer.

  “I know what you need, beautiful.” I suck her labia, nip it. I make my tongue flat and stroke over her clit.

  Her legs start to thrash on the bed. “Why?” she whines.

  “Why what? Why am I going to make you come again?”

  “Yeah,” she pants.

  “Because I need to.” It’s the goddamn truth. It’s like I was born to worship this incredible body of hers.