The Alpha’s Desire 4(28)
“I’m going to touch you now,” he almost threatened, his voice husky, strained with a slight growl following the words.
I watched his fingers move to my head, though, while I contracted inside, wanting, waiting, needing him in a way I’d never in my life needed another man, and I’d only had him this morning. As he caressed my hair, then moving to my cheek, I took in a deep breath, the thrill of it still impacting me. The rough pads of his fingers incited friction against my already blushing cheeks. I had to concentrate more on my breathing, just moving the air in and out, when those fingers fell to my breasts.
He feather-touched, and teased, before he grabbed and kneaded the flesh there. Never hurting me, he aroused the already pinkish, tight nubs into rosy, aching beads. Finally, his hands dropped to my stomach, nudging me backward until my back laid on the long table that sat in the middle of the horseshoe couch. He gave me a throw pillow for my head, and I reclined, watching his hand poised just above my folds. It shook, giving away some of the emotions growing in him.
“I know I say it over and over again, but you are so beautiful, my Christina. I love getting to look, touch, and taste your most intimate, magical spot,” he said, his praise genuine, matching the look in his eyes that spoke of need and desire. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I’ve gotten to know you, my charge, on such an intimate level. I can’t believe that you are laying here, open and willing, glistening with your own desires, wanting me, letting me look and touch you. I wish I had the words to truly express all I’m feeling, but since I don’t, since I don’t even think they exist, I shall touch you, taste you, kiss you until you are aware.”
My head rested into the pillow, my eyes closing when he proceeded to massage me between my thighs until I was mindless. His fingers rubbed gently, up and down, back and forth, in circles, grabbing and rubbing my mound, my folds, the sensitive skin around my opening until I couldn’t take it anymore. Yet, even my scream caught in my throat at this exquisite torture called pleasure. My stomach grew so tight, desire kindling deep inside.
As his touch grew heavier, and rougher, a fire spread over my flesh, igniting each nerve ending, making them beg for more, though I had lost my ability to form words. I had to force my hips into having patience, to revel in the glory of the sensations he created. He had a power over my body, the flesh between my thighs even more so, that I gave into willingly. I’d grown swollen, and the surge of sexual bliss came out in a tawdry dance of my hips which, given the noises he made, he was pleased with.
As his finger dipped inside me, and wiggled around, a sob of sorts escaped my chest, only to be strangled out by my erratic breaths. It came out as a whispered squeak, not at all attractive, but a peek his way told me it had ignited something in him, and bolstered him to continue on in much the same way. It seemed he read me, as each time I grew close to orgasm, the spasms taking me close to that edge, he pulled out, teased the opening again as I managed my breathing. Once I’d come down just enough, he’d push back in, having added another finger to the mix, throwing me into a more intense ride of sensations.
He stretched me, and pushed in further as his thumb came to press heavy and unyielding, moving in small circles over my clit. I let my hips go then, to move, to beg for more, coming up off the table in frantic movements as high as I could take them. His other hand came to play, too, as he wet a finger with my juices and sent it to circle around my tiny puckered hole.
“Can you take more?” he asked, four fingers deep inside me, with a thumb torturing my clit and another finger now rubbing my ass.
“Yes,” I got out, though the word sounded foreign to my ears. I’d not believed myself, a mix of irrational thoughts and insatiable pleasures mixing to confuse me, make me daring even as I worried I couldn’t take a moment more without losing my mind, wanting to come, needing the release.
He pushed the finger on my tiny puckered hole in, just the tip, letting the tight muscles there relax and open, greedily taking him in. As our bodies worked in a perfect rhythm together, I gave into the clenching, the contractions taking me over. I let the orgasm come, flooding my body with a heady delight, wave after wave of it, until the powerful energy inside of me shook me to my core. I bit hard into my lip to not cry out, wondering if there would ever come a day when we were not in an apartment with thin walls, or someone else’s bathroom, or even the cabin of a private jet, somewhere where I could give in, and let loose the screams he incited in me.