Page 35 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Now they were thrust together, working side by side, connected by fate, but with something between them that felt like a nearly impenetrable wall. Something that kept him from diving in like he wanted to. He was afraid that she would reject him. Afraid that she had good reason to. But god, he wanted her.

He took his coffee and sat beside her on the couch, carefully leaving a space between them.

“Don’t you want to take that off?” Moira nodded at his shirt. “It looks pretty wet. That can’t be comfortable.”

“I don’t have another one,” Jonah said, trailing off.

“You won’t scandalize me.” Moira raised her eyebrows over the rim of the cup, and he had the distinct feeling that she was enjoying it, daring him to strip it off in front of her.

He put his coffee down on the table with a clink and stood, slipping his hands under his shirt and lifting it off over his head. The moisture on his skin wicked away, leaving goosebumps across his chest. Moira was watching him, rapt.

Was it possible that she felt some of what he did? Was she drawn toward him as he was toward her? He barely let himself hope it.

“You have some water here,” she said, leaning forward to brush her fingers down his stomach.

He shivered, watching the progress of her finger as it moved from his chest downward, dipping into the valley between his abs and skimming over his navel, to the waistband of his jeans. Her finger hovered there.

“Moira,” he breathed, growing hard enough to strain against the denim, hard enough for the bulge of it to be noticeable, so near to her hand.

Her touch was a blaze against his cold skin, leaving a trail of fire behind, and he wanted more of it, to be consumed by it. She was in no hurry to put him out of his misery, dragging her finger sideways along the dip of his hip. Closer now, close enough that he could feel her breath against him, she flattened her hand and moved it back up his body, behind his neck, drawing her down toward him.

He needed no other invitation. He was burning for her, desperate for her. Jonah pushed her back onto the couch and captured her mouth beneath his, straddling her. She urged him on with her tongue and her clever fingers, winding into his curls, dragging over his back with a light scrape of her nails. His breathing was ragged as he worked his way down her neck, biting the tender skin there, then soothing it with a kiss.

“Damn these things,” he growled, coming up for air when the straps of her overalls thwarted him.

She was pinned beneath him, her hair a black web around her face, lips bruised from his kiss. He wanted her naked. Wanted all of her exposed to him, bared for him. Finally, the buckles came free, and he yanked the straps down, freeing her breasts.

He simply stared at her for a heartbeat, soaking in every inch of her skin. Then she bucked her hips up beneath him, needy, impatient, and he couldn’t hold back. Her nipples were hard little peaks for his tongue to tease. She gasped and caught the back of his head, drew him down, moaning when his teeth brushed against the delicate nub.

He pulled back again, pleased by her cries of protest when his mouth left her skin, the way she reached for him.

“Off,” he said, tugging her overalls down.

Moira lifted her hips for him, and he slid them down her legs, impatient. She wore a flimsy pair of black panties, their contrast sharp against her cream-colored skin. It was all he could do not to yank them down and sink himself into her. His cock demanded it.

Instead, he moved slowly. He worked his hand up her thigh until it just touched the crease of her leg, where he could feel the heat of her. She pushed toward the pressure, growling when he moved his hand away, but Jonah wanted to burn every second of this into his mind.

“Please,” she begged, squirming.

He relented, rubbing his finger down the center of her panties. They were soaked through. Jonah waited until she was twisting again, pushing herself into his hand, before sliding her panties down.

She reached for his belt buckle, and he shook his head, nudging her back down. He moved down her body, kissing the swell of her stomach, her inner thigh, the mons.

Finally, he tasted her. She was sweet on his tongue, and even sweeter when she knotted her hands in his hair. He teased her, lapping at her clit, bringing her to the edge before stopping to lick long, lazy strokes up her pussy. Only when she started to beg, when her thighs clamped tight around his head, did he let her cum.

“Jonah,” she gasped loud enough that even the storm could not muffle her. “I want you. Please, I need you.”

His face was covered in her as he drew back to kick off his pants, cock springing free. It was painfully hard. He pressed his cock teasingly against her entrance, slicking it with her wetness. She pushed forward until the tip began to stretch her folds until he could feel the warmth waiting for him.

He waited until her eyes fixed on his to sink deeper, so he could watch them widen as she took his full girth.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “It’s… it’s so much.”

Jonah’s fingers slid between them to work her clit, relaxing her until he could fit the whole length of himself inside her tight pussy. She felt so good. It wouldn’t be long before he lost control.

She dug her nails into his back as he started to move, tightening around him again as she neared her peak. He thrust deeper, finding a rhythm that made her throw her head back in pleasure.

“Moira, I’m close,” he growled, burying himself into her, sinking until their hips met. The couch rocked with the force of his thrusts.

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