Page 99 of Ruled By The Alpha

"Don't ask me to stop, Nafia. You taste too good. And I have wanted to do this for so long."

"This?" I gasp.

"This," he replies, sweeping his tongue from my entrance to my nub and making me shiver so hard I see stars.

His tongue replaces the work of his hands, swirling around my nub as gently he slides a finger into my wet hole.

I cry out, and pressure builds between my legs and deep in my cunt. His fingers brush against a point inside that makes me squirm with pleasure.

"There, Hensta. Just there," I gasp.

He tickles at it as his tongue sweeps around me, and my legs shake, every inch of my skin tingling.

And then the pressure breaks, and what floods my body is such unadulterated bliss for several long seconds I'm lost in time and space.

I've never touched myself like that before, never given in to the ache that sometimes plays out between my legs. Now I see why the others are so desperate for this.

I open my eyes with a long sigh and find myself looking straight into Hensta's.

"It was good?" he asks me, curiosity and concern drawn on his face, his chin shining with my juices.

"Yes," I say, smiling up at him and brushing my fingers through his hair.

He lets out a puff of air in relief. "I wanted to make you feel good, but I have never–"

"Never with one of the other…"

He shakes his head, and there are unspoken words between us. He's been waiting, waiting for me.

I drag his mouth onto mine, and he rolls on top of me. His weight is great and yet I like the way he presses me into the ground.

The warm head of his cock nudges against my entrance, and I shift my hips, trying to take him inside.

"Are you sure, Nafia?" he asks me quietly, the fire crackling above our heads, the light waltzing over his face.

"I am." He knows that I am a stubborn person. Once I have made up my mind, it is made.

"I won't seed you," he tells me, pressing into me.

"No," I agree. We are not ready for that.

He is large, and all I have taken here before is his fingers. The stretch has me drawing in breath and wincing. He pauses, showering me with kisses and sweet words until my body relaxes around him and he can slide a little deeper. We continue like this, creeping further and further, deeper and deeper inside me. He brushes against the point again, stars shattering across my vision, my walls loosening to accept him. Finally he halts flush against me, and we stare at each other, a little giddy.

I find a smile for him.

"You are okay?" he asks me, although I see the struggle on his face to be gentle, the care he is taking with me.

I am not completely ignorant. I have seen the violence of this act. Privacy for lovers is hard to come by in a tribe like ours.

"I am good, Hensta," I whisper.

"I am not hurting you?"

"No," I laugh, trailing my fingers down his broad back. "And you won't. I trust you."

I grind my hips against him, encouraging him to move, and with a tortured groan he does, dragging his cock from me slowly, stimulating that point and all around it. I moan, gripping his shoulders, and with a grunt he plunges back into me.

"Oooohhhh," I cry, surprised by how good that feels. My response gives him the confidence to continue, his thrusts becoming harder, an expression forming on his face I've not seen there before—bliss and pain mixed together.

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