Page 73 of The Alpha's Second Chance Mate

As though the words themselves unleashed something within me, I laid my head back on the bed and held my breath as a powerful and violent orgasm exploded within me. I couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything as my body spasmed and shook. All the while, Cole continued sliding his finger in and out, running his tongue in slow circles around my clit as he did.

Finally, he pulled away and stood, lifting his shirt over his head. For a few seconds, I lay there, gasping for breath, running my hands across my breasts as I tried to recover. He slid his boxers down, and his thick, rigid cock sprang free. My head was already swimming with endorphins and oxytocin from coming, and before I could stop myself, I sat up, grasped his cock, and took him in my mouth. Cole groaned in satisfaction.

The warmth of his shaft on my tongue made my pussy even wetter than it already was. I fucked him with my mouth, imagining him thrusting into me. I took him deep into my throat, then out again, sliding my tongue along his length. I slid my free hand between my legs and rubbed my clit, desperate to orgasm again while Cole stroked my hair.

“I want you,” he said. “I want to be inside you.”

Pulling my mouth away with a quietpop, I smiled up at him. “Then take me.”

He let out a low guttural groan of need and pushed me back on the bed, climbing on top of me. My heart crashed against my ribs as I looked down, watching his cock nestling between my legs. It grazed my clit, sending bursts of electric pleasure through me. The anticipation was almost too much. I wanted him inside me, to ride me and make me come again. All other thought and rationality had vanished.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his fingers drifting across my breasts.

I nodded, unable to form words. Then, in one quick motion, he grasped the base of his dick, pulled his hips back, and thrust forward, burying himself in my soaking, aching pussy.

“Fuck,” I cried out, and clenched my eyes shut, enjoying the delicious stretch as his massive cock filled me.

I was already close, and before he could begin thrusting, another sharp orgasm crashed through me. As though I was a sheet of glass, I shattered apart, bursting into millions of pieces. After I reassembled, I fractured again. It was terrifyingly powerful, but immensely enjoyable. I clamped my teeth onto my lower lip to keep from crying out. Even in my bliss, I remembered my son was just down the hall.

Cole thrust in an incessant, hungry rhythm, his hips meeting mine with aclapeach time. Time vanished, everything becoming a blur of motion, movement, and pleasure. My breath came in hitches and gasps as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me, each thrust of his hips punctuating it. Cole lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth as he continued slamming into me. I twisted my fingers into his hair, holding him close, enjoying the warm slipperiness of his tongue on my breast.

Five minutes or five hours later—God only knew how long it actually was—Cole’s chest began to shudder as his breathing became ragged and his hands dug in tight. His fingers clutched me like a drowning man holding a life preserver.

“I’m gonna come,” he moaned, keeping his voice low in an attempt to stay quiet.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “Come for me. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Oh, God,” he said, barely keeping his voice below a shout.

He grunted and moaned, bucking his hips against me. I felt his cock twitch and spasm as he came. Thrusting half a dozen more times, he finally collapsed onto me, breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. My own lungs heaved with exertion, and I ran my hands lovingly across his broad back.

As though in a daze, we disentangled ourselves, cleaned up, then fell back into bed. Cole looked at me as I lay on the pillow, my eyes already drifting closed.

“You really are beautiful, Avery. I’ve missed this.”

He reached out and caressed my cheek, brushing my hair away. That small gesture meant as much, if not more, than the sex. It was an intimate and loving connection.

“I missed it, too,” I said, gazing into his eyes.

We curled into each other, and I drifted into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I groggily opened my eyes. The light streaming through the window made me squint. So bright. The bed was empty beside me, but I could hear the shower running in my bathroom. Cole was already up. As the last vestiges of sleep faded away, I thought back on what had happened the night before. A warm glow formed in my stomach.

My entire body ached in a pleasant way. The dull throb between my legs let me know I’d been thoroughly and truly fucked like I hadn’t been in forever. It had been unlike anything I could remember. Cole had never taken me like that before, and it had been glorious. Sex with Perry had been lackluster—and that was being generous. He’d been more likely to give me a quick dozen or so thrusts before coming, leaving me to rub one out after he fell asleep. No man had ever given me what Cole had, and I craved it again already.

The bathroom door opened, and Cole strode out, rubbing a towel over his hair. I’d been too wound up and ready to go the night before to really take him in, but now, with him all wet and naked, I saw the truth. He was much more muscular than I remembered. Before, he’d looked like a lithe and lean wide receiver or basketball player. Now, he was beefier, like alinebacker or amateur bodybuilder or something. I had to admit, the extra muscle looked fucking good on him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re gonna have to have a repeat of last night,” Cole said.

My cheeks grew hot, and I had to look away, averting my gaze from his naked body. Tossing his towel aside, he crossed the room and sat on the bed. With a single finger, he reached forward and lifted my chin to meet his eyes. Even after being apart for so long, in that moment, it felt as though we’d never been separated, like we’d come through some time machine while still holding hands. Our bodies and faces were older, but we were still the same people, still connected.

He kissed me. It was sweet and gentle, unlike the grasping, unyielding make-out session of the night before. This was an intimate and quiet moment, and when he pulled back, I saw the same emotions reflected in his eyes. I wasn’t gullible enough to think every problem had been erased, all the pain forgotten, but I knew what I felt. It was like I’d finally come back home. My heart was happy and full for the first time in a long time, and for that, I was grateful. Whatever came after, I’d make sure to enjoy this.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“I’ll make pancakes.”

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