Page 59 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he teases.

I can’t be bothered to laugh. “You’re…you’re huge.”

“It’s the knot,” he rumbles. He nips at my breasts one more time before pulling away to cover my hand with his, guiding me to touch farther up the shaft. “What I warned you about—where I’m not like human men.”

I can’t help the shiver of anticipation that runs through me. He ducks his head to my neck at the subtle movement, the tip of his nose running over my pulse like he can scent my excitement. “You like how it feels,” he growls.

“I’m…curious,” I whisper.

His left hand slides around the small of my back, pulling me in until the apex of my thighs rubs against the bulge in his jeans. I’m suddenly struck with the ridiculous urge to play coy, but Reyes growls against my neck. “I can scent how wet you are, Tilda,” he says. “You don’t have to hide it.”

“Fuck,” I curse in a breathy moan. I jerk my hips against him, wanting to grind on him until I come. But he pulls back, looks at me.

“Touch me,” he says. “I’m all yours.”

I stare into his eyes, and with careful hands, I pull down his zipper. He practically falls out into my palm, his huge cock held back only by black briefs. I can see the bulge at the base of him, just a bit wider than it should be.

His right hand falls to my hip and somehow finds the bite mark as he bends to press kisses to my collarbone. His fingers ghost over his mark on me, tracing the place where his fangs pierced my skin. In response, I palm him through his briefs, wrapping my fingers around his shaft.

“Is it wrong that I want you to fuck me even more now?” I say.

He laughs against my bare skin, worshipping my breasts. “I won’t knot you tonight,” he murmurs. “Too big for human women…I have to get you ready.”

I take his hand in mine and, just as he meets my eyes, I put it under my skirt. Reyes’s lips part and I catch sight of a wickedly sharp fang, his fingers deftly finding my soaked panties. “You don’t think I’m ready?” I ask.

“Told you—you’re brave,” he says. He moves the wet fabric aside and strokes between my folds with his index finger, finding my clit like it hasn’t been decades since he last fingered a girl. Maybe it hasn’t; I guess I don’t really know. Regardless, I gasp at his touch, rocking my hips into his hand. “It gets bigger; I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If we’re just doing it this once, I want—ah!” I gasp and bend against him as he pushes that thick finger inside me. “I want it all.”

“I told you one night doesn’t just mean once,” he growls.

He pushes another finger inside and starts to fuck me with two digits. I’m so wet, so ready, that it isn’t nearly enough.

I grasp at his knot and stroke up and down, feeling the alien texture of his shaft, the way it curves at the base…

“Please,” I whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”

He adds another finger. “We have all night.”

His other hand finds his bite mark, and the lightest brush of his fingers over it brings on a sudden, powerful orgasm. I keep my legs spread for him, gripping his knot in my fingers, feeling how it swells. We’re still kneeling, our hands everywhere–but I want him on top of me, inside me. I need him between my legs. Reyes lets out an animalistic growl against my throat, and I feel his teeth graze me over my pulse.

I want him to bite me. I want him to bite me over and over again. In answer, my mouth waters like I want to do the same thing to him.

Wolf stuff, I guess.

Doesn’t matter.

“Bite me,” I breathe. “Knot me, Reyes.”

“Not tonight,” he says, and the commanding growl of the Alpha Prime shuts me up. I focus instead on the way my body pulses around his fingers, how his knot swells for me.

I gasp when he pulls his hand out from under my skirt—and watch with parted lips when he licks his fingers clean. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was tasting something sugary sweet from the way he groans. “Just like blackberries,” he murmurs. “Lie back, Tilda.”

It’s another command, but one with which I’m all too happy to comply. I lower to the grass and lean back on my elbows, the ground still soft and dewy from an early afternoon rain. The blades of green stick to my shoulder blades as I bend my knees and open my thighs, Reyes’s hands sliding higher to push up my skirt.

He doesn’t even bother to take off my panties; he practically shreds them from me instead, taking them in his fist and shoving the fabric into his back pocket. I try to process the fact that a priest just ripped off my panties on an altar—and that he appears to be keeping them—but I’m too far gone to see it as wrong.

Especially when everything about this is so, so right.

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