Page 26 of What A Croc
I vaguely remembered Jackson carrying me through his house before gently depositing me in the middle of his bed. The sheets and blankets smelled like him, and I twisted in them now, trying to wrap his scent all over my heated skin.
My temperature ramped up another notch, my hole ached, and slick made the sheet beneath me damp. I’d had a small respite before I had felt the beginning of my heattaking hold again. I couldn’t remember ever experiencing a heat this intense.
I needed an alpha. Toys weren’t going to get the job done, even if I had any here. IneededJackson.
He’d been gone forever.
Had he left me?
Did he not want me?
Was I too old?
Too soft, my belly too flabby?
My already cloudy mind filled with questions that left me feeling inadequate. Not a new feeling, but this time I didn’t want to feel that way. Not with him.
No. I shook my head on the soft pillow, no. None of that was right. I couldn’t think clearly with the flames of hell licking at my skin, but I knew Jackson wanted me. Was sure of it.
Then where was he? Why wasn’t he here, filling me with his thick, delicious cock and knotting me?
Wait. He had gone to get me some things. To take care of Aiden. Yes, that was what he had said.
But I needed him!
Gnashing my teeth against the pain, the heat, the lust, I let out a primal scream of rage and need and frustration. Grabbing my cock in one hand, I pumped it furiously, trying to find some relief.
When it wasn’t enough, I slid two fingers into my wet hole, fucking myself on my fingers. Still, it wasn’t enough, and I wailed and whined.
“Easy, sweetheart,” the low voice washed over my skin like cool rainwater. “I’m here, love, I’m here. I’m sorry I was gone so long. I’ve got you.”
And then my brain went offline as my aching, throbbing cock was engulfed in a warm, wet mouth and my fingers were eased out of my hole, to be replaced by three thicker digits. “Ahhhh!”
My entire body came off the bed as Jackson hollowed his cheeks and sucked my cock as far down his throat as he could, while sliding his fingers in and out of me.
“Alpha,” I moaned, my eyes open barely a slit. Jackson peered up at me from beneath his lashes, his head not breaking the bobbing rhythm he had set.
He popped off long enough to draw in a gulp of oxygen, before breathing “Mine” across my skin, then diving back in, swallowing me to the root. My orgasm came on me so fast my head spun. Sweat dripped down into my eyes. My fingers clawed at the sheets, and Jackson’s shoulders, my feet dug into the mattress, my toes curling. My whole body shook as I came, Jackson swallowing every last drop, his fingers fucking into me, never letting up on my prostate until I was too sensitive and tried to shift away.
Panting, I curled on my side in a boneless heap, covered in sweat and slick. Minutes later, a cool, wet cloth waswiping down my heated skin. As my heat backed off, I began to shiver, tiny tremors racing across my flesh. Something soft and familiar fell over me, cocooning me in familiar warmth. Eyes barely focused, I could just make out a blur of pink before I drifted into darkness.
“Drink.”
The soft yet authoritative voice ordered me, and something hard tapped my lips. Obediently I did as I was told, and I opened my mouth. Cool water eased my parched throat, and I swallowed greedily. Too soon, the cool water was pulled away and I whined.
“Shh, you can have some more in a bit. I don’t want you to get sick.”
Blinking owlishly, the room slowly came into focus. I was in a large bedroom, a lamp throwing soft yellow light over the dark, masculine furniture. Two matchingnightstands, and directly in my line of sight, a large dresser with a mirror on it.
Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the white painted ceiling, taking stock of myself. My limbs ached and my hole was definitely making itself known with each throb, but the aches felt kind of good.
Cool, gentle hands brushed the sweaty hair back from my forehead. “How do you feel?”
Turning my head to look at Jackson, I gave him a small smile, before croaking, “I’m okay.” Wow, my voice was wrecked, but like the aches and pains, I didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t back before the next wave of your heat started,” Jackson told me, bringing the water bottle back to my lips. Taking a sip, we stared at one another, until he pulled it away.
Somehow, even though the man had already made me come twice, this moment seemed more intimate than both those times put together. Maybe it was just the gentle way he was handling me, the way he cleaned me up, the way he tenderly held the water bottle to my lips and made sure I drank.
