For Her Protection-An Alpha Romance(16)

Something told her she might not ever recover.

But the choice was hers wasn't it?

Oh fuck, there were some things she wanted …

She'd never considered herself a dirty girl, yet the ideas slinking  through her head would turn a porn star's cheeks crimson. He did that to  her, made her base. Turned her primal.

"So what do you say? How's it going to be?" he whispered, his voice husky and raw.

He leaned over her.

She dropped from her hands to her elbows. His words might say he'd  fulfill the bargain, would let her choose. His body said he'd always be  the one in control. The possibilities sent shivers deep into her core,  made her hips ache to have him hold them. And dammit, that's what she  wanted. Him above her. Him holding her down.

To not have to think-just to freaking feel.

But yet … a tiny shred of something held her back. Not enough to stop her  taking what she wanted but enough to change the way she took it.  Connor … she still didn't know how far he could be trusted.

And it takes a fuckload of trust to let someone restrain you.

Charlie moistened her lips then sank back against the cool floor. "I guess I'm yours to command."

His eyes flashed, his nostrils flared. He covered her like a blanket of muscle.         

     



 

"Good choice," he growled and planted his mouth on hers.

He kissed her deep, gave her enough tongue to make her want more, yet  withheld giving her everything. She wound her arms around him, tried to  draw him closer.

He pulled back. "Remember who's in charge. You do what I tell you."

His fingers hooked in the top of her gym pants and tugged. She gasped.  He stripped her bare from the waist down in one movement. She tried to  press her legs shut at the shock of sudden exposure.

He grasped her ankles, his face fierce but not cold. "You shut them if I say shut them. You open them if I say open them."

The grip on her ankles made her want to test him. Made her want to see  just how rough things could get. Yet something else said yes.

Yes, she'd do what he said, open everything to him.

He released her and sat back.

She bit back the protest that rose to her lips. "No come back- tear my legs open."

"Get on the couch."

She rolled to her side then stepped on boneless legs to the sofa.

"Sit on the end."

Charlie turned and sat, the cool leather startling her bare bottom. She  rested her hand on the arm instead of using it to cover herself. She  didn't tug her top down and hide the strip of dark hair that disappeared  between her legs.

Connor followed her, leaned over her, tempted her with his closeness but  only reached around her, grabbed the handle below the armrest and  reclined the end of the sofa. She didn't move, just let herself sink  backwards until she lay almost straight.

He stood, his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. Her gaze honed in on  the patch of skin revealed at his waist. He swooped up the shirt and  pulled it over his head.

She clamped her thighs together and gripped the armrest. Dammit, he'd  just ruined her for life. No shirtless man could ever compete with this.  He looked as hard and masculine as he'd felt. His pecs were defined  under a spattering of neat, dark hair that thinned and trailed  beckoningly down his chest, over the ridges of his stomach then  disappeared into the top of his sweatpants.

God, it was all she could do not to rocket forward and attack his pants,  reveal the trail's destination. His hip flexors tightened when he  moved, made her want to press her tongue to the hollow they created. Her  thighs slickened.

"Open, baby."

She blinked. An instruction, he wanted her legs open. If she'd been more  in control, she may have resisted but she wanted to prove she could do  what he asked. She shifted, parting her thighs slightly but not enough  to let him see what he'd done to her.

Connor grabbed her ankle and tugged her leg wider, exposing her dewy  center. She gasped and watched him kneel on the edge of the sofa in the  space he'd made between her thighs-watched his gaze trace her exposed  sex. Her pussy responded to his attention, getting wetter under his  gaze.

"When I tell you to do something there will be no half doing it. Understand?"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Eyes on me, baby. Eyes always on me."

She opened them. He adjusted her thighs wider, bending her knees and  resting her ankles on his hips. She reached to grab the hem of her  shirt.

"Don't," he growled. "One look at those tits and this will be over hard and fast. I want to have fun first."

Fun. Heat dripped over her skin. Fun for whom? For him or her? Because  hard and fast sounded pretty freaking good right about now.

She dropped her shirt and planted her hand back on the armrest.

He touched her but not like she expected. With her knees high and open he spread her lips with his thumbs.

"What a pretty pussy you have. You have no idea what I'm going to do to it do you?"

She balled her fists as a tremor rolled through her. He opened her  wider, eating her out with his gaze. Air caressed her pussy. It  quivered, silently begging him to show her exactly what he planned to  do. He moved, spreading her with one hand and sinking a finger deep into  her with the other.

Tension shot through her, and that tight, achy desire for more  intensified. He stroked her gently then pushed in another, stretched her  with the girth of his fingers. She shifted her hips, torn between a  moment of pleasure and of something else.

"Get used to it, baby, because this is nothing compared to what you've got coming."

He pressed up and she nearly flew off the couch. Raw sensation wracked her. She panted, hands moving to her hair.

"Easy," he whispered and rested his other hand on her abdomen, holding  her in place. Then he moved again, moved with deliberate strokes,  caressing her more intimately than should be possible. He started out  slowly, pushing into her firmly then sliding back out. Bone-deep  pleasure mounted with every movement. Then he changed tactics, as if  what he'd just done to her had been only a warm up.         

     



 

He pressed down on her pubic bone and stroked her clit with his thumb,  pushing higher and harder inside her. She grasped at her hair, her back  arching, her chest heaving, her body humming. He thrust deep-fast-on a  mission to destroy her with sex.

Exquisite agony. The only words for it. Pleasure so bad it hurt. Like nothing she'd ever felt had been real until now.

His thumb slid over and around her, intensifying every tightening pulse  in her core. She tossed her head. Too much …  Too much to process-too much  to bear. She'd break. He jutted against that place, that place she  hadn't believed in but could not now deny.

"Fuck, Connor, please." Her voice grated strange and high pitched. Her shoulders trembled against leather.

The fingers inside her gentled. No, that's not what she needed. She  wanted more, harder, his thumb moving faster-that's what she needed.

"No, baby, no coming yet. You've got to earn that."

His words were husky, almost as raw as she felt. He withdrew from her  slowly. She cried out and tried to grasp his arm. He moved out of reach.

She sagged against the sofa, fighting the urge to sob with need. Sweat gathered at her hairline.

Then he did the one thing that could distract her from her own body.

He revealed the rest of his.

Connor removed his pants, kicked the pile of black fabric across the  floor. Her labored breathing stilled and she snapped up straight. His  hands rested by his sides. Next to … the hottest cock she'd ever seen.

Her wet, aching pussy clenched.

"Come here," he instructed.

He didn't need to ask twice. She was on her knees in front of him. Reaching for that smooth, pink cock.

He grasped the back of her hair, halting her. "No, baby, you get what I  give you." He gripped the base of his cock-so freaking perfect in its  symmetry it should be patented. Thick shaft-thick enough it might just  push the boundaries of comfort-and swollen, pink head. His cock called  to her, made her want to take it into her body any way she could.

"Mouth open."

She opened her lips and looked up at him. Dark blue veins corded their  way up his arms. His jaw ticked. He couldn't hide his arousal any more  than he could hide the strength of his erection.

He wanted her.

She made him this way.

His gaze locked on hers. "You'll need to do better if you want me to feed you this cock."

She opened wider, stretched her tongue out. He groaned and guided the  mushroomed head of his cock into her mouth. The silky skin of his crown  slid across her tongue. The earthy taste of him made her tremble. He  filled her mouth, made her stretch her jaw as he pushed deeper. He  overwhelmed her. Hard flesh in her mouth, his taste, his scent-the  intimate, musky scent of a man.

She wrapped her lips around him and sucked hard. The grip in her hair  became a caress, but he maintained control with his cock. Forced a  little more of himself on her each time then took it away-only to give  more-more cock, more of his salty skin and the distinct smell of him  that enslaved her.