Page 61 of Fired at the Heart

“Protest all you want.” His hand wraps around my straining dick again. “My car in your garage gives away how much you hoped I’d come after you. You wanted me to chase you, so here I am.”

My breath hitches, hips bucking to thrust into his fist.

“It’s okay that you still want me.” He releases me to squeeze my balls, and my back arches as I moan. “I never stopped wanting you.” His thumb brushes my lower lip, and I fight the urge to take it into my mouth. “Never stopped needing you.”

He lowers his head to press his lips to my neck. The contact sends electricity coursing through me, and I can’t hold back the small sound that escapes my throat. He remembers where I’m sensitive, sucking at the spot below my ear, the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. His lips trace a burning path across my skin.

“Raphael,” I warn, but it comes out sounding more like a plea.

His teeth graze my earlobe. “You think I don’t know what you need? What you’ve been denying yourself? How many Heats have you put off over the years because you were too afraid you’d come looking for me?”

His free hand returns to my chest, fingers finding my nipple and pinching hard enough to arch my back off the bed. A rush of heat floods between my thighs, and slick leaks from my entrance, my body preparing for my Alpha. For him.

“Stop,” I say, but without conviction, my legs parting to give him better access.

“Your mouth says stop.” His hand travels back between my legs. “But your scent is begging me to continue.”

I fight the restraints, but halfheartedly. I want him. Want this. Want him to take control. Want to surrender to the Alpha who once claimed me as his.

All I am is want.

His fingers tease at my entrance, and I stop breathing. He hovers there, not giving my body what it screams for.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he challenges, throat thick with desire. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

I open my mouth, but the lie won’t come. Instead, I turn my head away, exposing my neck in surrender.

He growls, the sound vibrating through me. His lips return to my neck, sucking hard enough to leave red splotches on my skin. Marking his territory. “You’re still mine. You’ll always be mine.”

“No,” I protest weakly. “We’re not?—”

My words cut off with a moan as his fingers push back into my body, hooking to find my sweet spot, the slow massage curling my toes with pleasure.

“No more lies,” he murmurs against my skin. “Not when you’re this hard for me. This wet.”

“I hate you,” I breathe.

“No, you don’t.” He shifts, his hand on my leg spreading me open wider. “You hate how you still want me. But that’s okay. Now you’ll have me as much and as often as you want, every single day.”

As his hungry stare sweeps over my body, I should feel humiliated, but he makes me feel desired. Wanted. Needed.

“Just look at you. Still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” He lifts my leg, biting at my inner thigh until I’m a writhing mess beneath him.

His fingers leave my ass and return to my leaking dick, coating me in my slick and stroking my length with just the right amount of pressure to send pleasure rolling through me without giving me the friction I need.

“So responsive.” He rolls his thumb over my sensitive tip. “So perfect for me.”

Just as my hips start thrusting into his grasp, he releases me to return to my entrance, this time thrusting three fingers inside. I gasp at the stretch, grabbing at the sheet beneath my head.

His fingers curl inside me, finding my sweet spot again, painting starbursts across my vision, and a moan tears from my throat, my hips bucking, riding his hand.

“That’s it,” he encourages.

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the sounds he pulls from me. His free hand lifts, and he presses a thumb on my bottom lip until I release it from between my teeth.

“Don’t hide from me.” The command sends a shiver through me. “I want to hear every sound I pull from you.”

His fingers work deeper inside me, stretching, preparing, crumbling the last of my resistance.

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