Page 97 of Charming Deception

His hand slows, squeezing out another spurt of cream and the accompanying grunt of pleasure. Then a few more strokes, slower now, as a shudder runs through his body.

His muscled ass finally relaxes, and the taut muscles along his arm do, too.

He huffs out a breath and releases his cock, a gruff, masculine sound of satisfaction. His cock bobs heavily, still swollen and half-hard as he leans, pressing his hands to the sink. He’s breathing hard, his head pitched forward.

I don’t dare move or make a sound as I stare.

He’s so beautiful. Perfect. His muscled body moist with sweat, his cock heavy, sated, a sticky coating of semen gleaming wetly on the flushed crown.

I want to suckle it. Lick up every drop.

A man like that should be taken care of, every drop of semen savored, not wasted.

But it’s hot as hell that his ejaculate is all over the sink and mirror, all over his body. It’s primal.

He chose a place where he thought he was alone and wouldn’t bother me. He could’ve used something, come into a tissue or his hand. But because he’s alpha, he just stood there naked and let himself shoot freely, releasing all over what’s in front of him.

My lips are swollen; I’ve been rubbing them with my teeth, and I drag my tongue across them. I breathe as quietly as I can, soft, fast, shallow breaths.

My panties are soaked.

It’s so hard to tear my attention away, but I’m terrified he’ll see me.

I need to go.

I turn and hurry back to the bed, my pulse flying. I would’ve died if he caught me there, watching him.

And yet nothing could’ve torn me away while I watched, soaking up every pleasured breath, every twitch of his muscles, every pulse of his cock.

That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, by miles.

My core pulses with need, but I slip back into bed before it occurs to me that maybe I should go into my own bathroom and make myself come.

My pulse thuds loudly through my body, and I hear nothing from his bathroom. I’m afraid to move. To have him return to find me gone, to know that I’m up.

And even more afraid that if I try to slip out of the bed, he’ll walk in right at that moment, and I’ll have to face him.

So I remain still, lying under the covers on my side of the bed with my heart thumping.

Long minutes pass while I barely breathe.

The ache between my legs only grows worse as everything I just witnessed replays, again and again. I see him in my mind, naked, so expertly pleasuring himself, bringing himself to orgasm.

I can hardly believe I watched him come.

And if I don’t stop thinking about it, this is going to be a very long and painful sleepless night.

I hear the soft padding of his feet on the smooth floor, and I know he’s trying to be quiet as he slips back into the room. I don’t dare peek to see if he’s still naked.

He moves slowly, carefully into the bed, obviously trying not to disturb me.

I wait, breathless, until he settles.

Then I wait some more.

The entire time, my clit throbs. My pussy is swollen and wet.

There’s no way I can sleep like this.

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