Page 11 of The Coveted Beta

Her hands fall away, leaving her tits quivering with her every shuddering breath.

I’m in a trance as I lean toward her. My head moves down. My mouth is fucking watering even before I get a taste. She emits a needy little moan that reaches straight to my core as I close my lips around the distended peak and suck. I suck again, pulling the tight little nub deeper into my mouth.

A low, rumbly purr escapes me with my next breath. I open my mouth wider, and this time I draw a generous portion of her tit into my mouth along with her nipple. I exhale heavily, feasting greedily on her hot, delectable flesh, feeling instantly calmed by the act of suckling on her. Gods, I could feast here all day. How the fuck Alex ever lets her out of their bedroom is a mystery to me.

She tastes delightful.

She smells amazing.

There’s nothing sweeter than a lusty female. Her scent and helpless moans pull a thread straight through my gut and down into my balls. My cock flexes against my pants. I am much enamored with this needy female, and I don’t even care that she is my best friend’s wife.

Her fingers find my hair: not to pull me off. No, they hold me there.

I shift, nuzzling her soft flesh, getting lost in the fog. Somehow, I manage to lift my head. My chest feels tight, like there’s not enough air in the room, as we stare into each other’s eyes.

I have stepped over a line.

Her hands slip from my hair. Her tit is now half out and considerably more exposed than before. I believe I have not helped her with the problem at all. I believe I have made matters worse.

“Here,” I say, “let us loosen the little bow. I believe it will help.”

I undo the top ribbon, and it puts slack into her pretty jade-green dress. When I gently tug her gown, her decolletage covers her, although I’m disgusted with myself for even thinking to cover it up. If I had my way, her tits would spend most of the day on display, awaiting my pleasure, encouraging me to play.

But now the ribbon is open, and her breasts make an arresting V as they quiver beautifully under her ragged breaths.

“There.” It is not entirely decent, but it is not indecent either.

“Th-thank you,” she stammers, her eyes down.

It is then that her husband chooses to return. The door clicks shut behind him. We both turn to look at him. I don’t know if I look guilty. Clara certainly does. As I lean back into my chair, his eyes shift between us. He doesn’t look like he’s about to go at me or kick me out of his house.

He looks interested.

He looks like a man about to ravish his wife again.

I swear, if the bastard drags her somewhere to fuck her again and leaves me hanging on his pleasure, I will thump him, whether he is my best friend or not.

Only, I wonder what might be the consequence if I choose to meet the matter head-on?

“You left your poor wife in some discomfort,” I say. “Did you just fuck her on the veranda?”

She gasps. I don’t pay her any mind, aware that I’ve ventured onto dangerous ground, yet I cannot pull fucking back.

“Over the balustrade,” Alex admits.

I chuckle. “Where anyone could see. Where I could see.”

“Did you?” he asks, and there is no mistaking the eagerness in his tone nor the way his face lights with interest.

His sweet wife doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her quivering next to me. I hear the unsteady saw of her breathing.

I shake my head. “No. I did what a civilized man would do. I pretended that nothing was going on.” I turn to Clara, and her pretty blue eyes slam into mine. I could sink into them. She is so beautiful. Sweet-natured. Her biggest fault is that she believes the best of people. Unfortunately, the world is cruel, and some people are bastards who don’t deserve her charm. But it is hard to fault someone for being too kind, for being too gullible. Alex tries to protect her from the world, and I admire him for that.

Except, now, he’s thrusting his sweet wife in front of an alpha. Sometimes, he forgets what I am, that an alpha has an inner beast, that his senses are sharper, and that we have deep, barbaric lusts.

And that, on occasion, our pheromones can have an influence over betas.

None of that has happened with Clara and Alex before, and they have ever been my friends. Oh, I’ve noticed Clara, for certain—I’d have to be fucking blind not to. However, I am not the kind of bastard who would act on it, ever, and doubly not when it is obvious to anyone that there is a deep love between them.

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