Alpha’s Baby(64)

Stefan looked at me with confusion. “Bella? What are you doing?”

My nightmare had shaken me to the core. All of my fears were haunting me, and the lies we were telling our parents were starting to get to me. I needed to feel something, anything.

Stefan placed his hand over mine, halting me at his zipper. “Bella, we can’t do this now.”

Unheeding, I shoved his hand away and began unbuttoning his pants anyway. It took me nearly thirty seconds to unzip them—I swear the expensive material had a safety lock on it—and then I managed to pull his pants and underwear down slightly.

I was disappointed to see that he wasn’t rock-hard and ready when his cock came out, but my breath caught in my throat anyway.

Even flaccid, it was a wonder to behold, with the perfect-shaped mushroom head that looked juicy and oh, so succulent.

I grabbed ahold of it, relishing how it felt in my hands. It was warm. Hot. A jolt ran up my fingers as his cock twitched and blood began pumping through it.

A desperate note had entered Stefan’s voice. “Bella . . .”

I ignored him, daring him to stop me. For some reason, I felt powerful holding his dick in my hands, feeling the blood plump through it.

Some say a man’s dick was an extension of his ego, and for Stefan and his nearly 8-inch cock, it had to be a major source of his confidence. It thrilled me to be holding his symbol of pride in my hands, having him completely at my mercy.

Swiftly, it grew inside my grip until his luscious head was fat and swollen.

I squeezed the shaft of his cock and waited expectantly. Sure enough, a large drop of precum came out of the eye, and I rubbed it all over his head and down his shaft, lubricating him.

“Bella . . .” Stefan was moaning now. I knew I had him.

Disregarding his feeble protests, I began jerking him off, stroking from the top of his head down to the bottom of his shaft. While I stroked him, images from my dream assailed me. Gripped by fear, this only made me stroke him harder.

“Fuck,” Stefan cursed as I paused stroking to squeeze his cock to get more precum to come out. He’d gone slightly dry.

This time, I was rewarded with even more fluid, and I relished spreading his juices all over his fat dick. I added a little saliva and resumed jerking him off, pumping his big cock as fast as I could.

The sound of fleshy friction filled the room as I jacked him furiously. I gripped his head as tightly as I could every time I stroked to the top, adding a slight twist to it and making sure to stimulate the most sensitive part of his head.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Stefan moaned. He lifted his ass off the bed, arching his back a little. Satisfaction rolled through me as I noted the expression on his face, his features twisted in effort as if he was trying to lift a mountain, sweat rolling down his jaw.

This only made me feel more powerful. I was in control of this strong male specimen who had been a thorn in my side for years because of my attraction to him.

I pumped as furiously as I could, angrily jerking his huge dick up and down. “Come for me,” I commanded him, looking straight up at him. “Give it to me,” I repeated.

“Ah, fuck!” Stefan gasped, his face twisted as if he was in agony, his forehead covered in sweat.

Powerful jolts went through my hands as his dick contracted rapidly, sending squirts of hot liquid all over the place. Stefan must've had a build-up, because it went everywhere—on the bed, my gown, and his dress pants.

I felt hot liquid roll down my wrist as his cock continued erupting like a volcano. I held on and squeezed, getting every last drop until his dick stopped contracting.

Stefan let out a huge sigh and lowered his ass back onto the bed when it was over.

“Fuck, are you happy now?” he demanded as I let go of his dick. He seemed to know that my actions were some sort of power play meant to exert some control over him, but at the same time, it seemed he didn’t want to press the issue, as if he was scared of what my reaction might be.

He got up from the bed and grabbed tissue from the box of Kleenex sitting on my nightstand and began wiping at his dick and then furiously at his pants. “I hope this washes out. These pants cost 300 bucks.” When he was done, he pulled his pants back up, zipping them closed. Even in the dark, I could see the stains all over them.

“I’m sorry. I’ll wash them out for you,” I apologized, though I wasn’t really sorry. For some reason, I was in no hurry to wipe his mess from my hands and arm. I wanted to feel a part of him on me.

Stefan sighed and dropped the tissues in the wastebasket next to the night stand. I would have to empty that before the next morning. I wouldn’t want Mom to come nosing in and wonder why come-encrusted tissue was sitting in my trash bin. “I'm sure it will. But I’m going to need all the nice clothes that I’ve got since I'll probably have to start looking for a job.”