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Page 37 of Alpha (Alpha 1)

His hands curled around the outside of my thighs, and I felt his breath on my soft, sensitive skin. His stubble was rough on my flesh, but his tongue sliding up my folds made up for it. In fact, the contrast of his scratchy stubble on my thighs and his tongue wet and hot and slow along my opening was delicious and erotic, and I couldn’t and didn’t try to stop a moan from escaping my lips. His fingers walked along the hollow of my hips, found the lips of my pu**y and pulled them apart, and his tongue flicked in to swipe around my swollen clit in a long, wet circle.

“Kyrie…you taste so good, Kyrie. I’m going to lick your sweet, perfect pu**y until you beg me stop, but I won’t stop. I’ll keep licking you until you can’t take it anymore, and then, when you’ve come so hard and so many times that you think you’re about to die, I’ll make you come again. Have you ever come so many times you passed out, Kyrie? That’s what I’m going to do to you. Right now. Tonight. I’m going to eat your sweet wet little pu**y until you pass out.” His words rumbled and his voice purred like a lion’s growl, and his breath was hot on me, and his fingers were gentle but insistent, and I nearly came just from his voice, just from his words, just from his promises.

I bit my lip and moaned as his tongue slid up my opening, his tongue flattened and fat. He licked me like that a few times, his tongue going stiff as it swiped over my clit. As the tip of his tongue left my pu**y, I felt my hips lifting, rising of their own accord, seeking contact. Moans were leaving my lips nonstop now as his tongue narrowed and speared into me, diving in to circle my clit. The rhythm, oh, Jesus, the rhythm he set was slow and deliberate and maddening. Designed to make me crazy. Designed to make me beg. He used nothing but his tongue. For a time I had no way of measuring what he was doing, just licking and circling me in no discernible pattern. Heat swelled inside me, and pressure bore down on me like drowning at the bottom of a pool. My breath came in groans, and my hips lifted and fell to the wild sequence of his tireless tongue.

And then, just as I was about to scream from frustration and need, the fingers of his right hand trailed around my leg and up the inside of my thigh, and then I felt a single digit pierce my folds and curl against my inner walls, crooking to stroke me high and deep, eliciting a gasp that became a whimper. I couldn’t help but hook my heels over his shoulders, and he grasped my hips in both hands, tugged me down the bed, grabbed a pillow, and shoved it under my lower back to lift my ass off the bed. My hands were fisted under the pillow, shaking, desperate to tangle in his hair.

His hands slid over my body, soothing and smoothing, exploring and possessing. His palm grazed my breast, cupped its weight, and then his fingers pinched my nipple, tweaking and twisting, adding a sharp line of barbed-wire heat to the pressure and fire inside me. I felt his other hand arcing over my belly, across my hip, my thigh, sliding over the damp and trembling line of my pu**y, and then his finger traced down the opening and pushed in. I groaned, and then let a tiny breathless scream leave me as his tongue flicked against my clit. Another finger joined the first inside my pu**y, and his tongue moved in slow circles. Two fingers stroked inside me, curling up and in, and the pace of his tongue quickened.

Heat billowed in my core, pressure set my thighs to trembling, and my heels crossed over each other on his back, holding him to me. My hands needed to touch him. I needed to. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I kept them in place, just as he’d told me to do.

I was moaning loudly now, hips writhing against his mouth.

My orgasm was quick and hard, pulsing through me like lightning strikes.

“Shit…Roth…oh, god….” I heard myself gasp.

“That was a good start.” His voice came from between my legs. “But it was just a start.”

Just a start? That orgasm had left me limp and sweaty, shaking, barely able to catch my breath. I realized that he might not have been kidding when he’d promised to make me pass out. I’d only had multiple orgasms once in my life, and that had been a…memorable evening. The guy in question had been a U.S. Marine on leave, and we’d only had that one night together, but holy shit had he been good.

He was an amateur, I realized, in comparison to Roth. I’d come hard, and it had only taken him a few minutes.

My thoughts were dissolved by his fingers sliding out of me and moving up to caress my throbbing, aching clit. I groaned, and Roth groaned with me.

“This time, I want you to come as fast as possible.” He licked me once, hard. “Are you ready, Kyrie?”

“I…I don’t know if I can again.”

“Oh, you can.” He licked me, and I felt a bolt of something hot shoot through me, making me gasp. “See? Come for me, Kyrie. Come again.”

He put his lips to my clit and sucked, three fingers sliding in and out of my tight, clenching opening. He sucked hard, and my hips left the bed, lightning hitting me with each pull of his mouth on my throbbing nub.

And sure enough, within seconds I was teetering on the edge, and his free hand drifted up my body to pinch my nipple, pinching as hard as he was sucking. I groaned, and as soon as I fell over the edge, his touch turned light, his tongue flicking my clit and his fingers gently stroking my nipple. I screamed aloud, coming hard, back arching.

“Good, Kyrie. Very good. That was beautiful.” I felt him crawl out from between my thighs and up my body. “Now, while you’re still coming, touch yourself. Put your fingers to your pu**y so I can watch you make yourself come.”

I was arched off the bed even as he spoke. There was no way I could come again. No way. I ached. I hurt. I was completely limp.

When I didn’t comply, I felt him grab my hand and shove it between my thighs. His palm touched the back of my hand, and his fingers moved against mine, pushing my middle digit against my clit.

“I can’t…I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” I felt him lean over me, felt his tongue, which surely must be tired by now, trace a lazy circle around my nipple. “Touch yourself, Kyrie. I want to watch you make yourself come.”

I moved my middle and ring fingers in a tentative circle. I swallowed hard and bit my lip as almost painful heat throbbed inside me. Roth was pressing kisses to my tits, cupping my right boob and pulling it toward himself, licking my thickened nipple, circling the areola with his tongue, and then letting go and paying the same attention to my right side. His hands weren’t idle, though. He was stroking me, caressing me all over. Grabbing my hip and kneading my tits and holding my waist. I felt my hand moving, felt pressure build within me once again as my fingers moved in compliance with Roth’s command. How could I possibly come again? He’d brought me to climax twice within, what, fifteen minutes, if that? Jesus. I didn’t think it was possible, but he’d done it.

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