Page 7 of The Coveted Beta

It should disgust me.

And yet, I am hard—again—at the mere thought.

Gods, how am I going to get through the day? I enjoyed her often last night and then again this morning before we left the room. I should not have the capacity to get hard, but it’s like my cock has a mind of its own, and I can’t seem to escape the mental quagmire in which I find myself.

* * *

Clara

Alex is looking at me like that again. He has taken his coffee to stand beside the open patio doors with his back to us, yet every time he glances back, I can feel the heat in his gaze. I dare not lift my head and meet his eyes when I am holding my own libido back by a mere thread. Between my husband’s heated glances and Frederick’s deep, rumbling voice, with which he speaks to me in an intimately low tone, forcing me to lean in to hear, I am like a ship adrift in a stormy, carnal sea.

I have never even noticed Frederick’s scent before. Today, it’s like a rich, potent cloud tickling the back of my throat, and I cannot escape it nor its effect. My nipples are hard, and my pussy is weeping. A little of that is due to my husband’s ardor last night and this morning, but I would be lying to myself if I claimed it was all down to that.

“You are not eating much, Clara,” Frederick says, in a low voice, close to my ear. “Are you not hungry? You have done no more than move the fruit around your plate. I’m truly sorry if my teasing has made you uncomfortable in some way.”

“Oh, no, don’t be,” I mumble, then make the mistake of glancing sideways at him. And I am caught up in the beauty of his hazel eyes with their long, long lashes. How did I never notice how pretty they were before? How can such a masculine man have such eyes? Surely, there is some unwritten law of creation to protect mortal women from their hypnotic powers. “You have very pretty eyes.”

He smirks.

I blink a few times before, mortified, I snatch my gaze back to my plate, where I have, as he indicated, done nothing more than move the fruit around.

Why would I say that?

What madness has gotten into me?

I throw a nervous glance across at my husband, to find him staring at me.

Did he hear me? Does he see the condition I am in, aroused and needy while I think about his friend thrusting his coffee aside, spreading me out on the table, and sliding one of the plump strawberries through my slick pussy before presenting it to my lips, with a smirk? “There, does that taste better now?” the fantasy version of Frederick purrs.

I swallow.

“Clara, if I might have a word,” Alex says.

Chapter Six

Alex

I take her hand to usher her from the table. “Excuse us for a moment, Frederick.”

“Of course,” he says, rising to his feet as she stands. On resuming his seat, he reaches for his coffee then leans back in his chair.

I escort my wife out through the patio doors and across the sun-warmed flagstones to the side of the sheltered space. There, before I have even thought through my intentions, I have her caught in my arms, my hips pinning hers against the handy stone balustrade that surrounds the patio “I need you,” I say, bluntly, looking down into her eyes

“Oh! Alex!” Her eyes are perfectly round as she stares up at me. “What are you doing?”

“Bend over, love.”

I steal a kiss as she gasps, and then I spin her around. I run my hands over her hips and then up along either side of her spine to gently push her shoulders and then her head down. How did I never notice this was the perfect height?

“Frederick,” she hisses. “He might see us.”

“He won’t,” I say, more confidently than I feel. I don’t care if he does see us.

I have a hand on her skirts, about to lift them, when I pause at the thought—Do I want him to see us?

Perhaps. I don’t know anything except that I am possessed with desire for Clara.

“I need you,” I repeat.

---