Page 9 of The Alpha's Gamble
His cock out, his harsh breathing, the hard floor of the club’s back room against my kneecaps.
Just an anonymous cock, and an anonymous mouth, the hot rush of come down my throat and the shameful spill of my own inside my too-tight jeans.
I’d done this before. More than once? Maybe? Fuck, I might throw up. Flashbacks were supposed to be from PTSD, not from ill-advised almost-blacked-out sexual encounters.
But I swallowed hard and forced my eyes to focus.
That was good, right? I had some practice. Even if I couldn’t remember what I’d done, or even if I hadn’t done more than sloppily mouth the guy’s cock until he came, both of us too drunk and high to care.
MacKenna would expect more than that.
Fuck.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, right above the fabric of his boxer briefs. Gods, but it was hard, and it stiffened even more as I tightened my fingers, gripping him hard enough to be a threat without actually causing him pain; challenging him might be dangerous, but injuring him could be suicidal.
It didn’t feel all that different from my own dick, with silky skin over a firm shaft, hot and pulsing.
That gave me the courage to tug up and then down, twisting my hand a little in a way I liked when I did it to myself.
MacKenna’s soft grunt and involuntary-seeming, small upward jerk of his hips gave me the courage to lean in and set my mouth over his thick cockhead.
Salt. Clean, soap-tinged male musk.
And the spicy, sparking heat of an alpha werewolf’s raw, elemental magic. It all burst on my tongue like lightning, arrowing into my throat and down, lighting me up along the way, pooling in the pit of my stomach.
Well, maybe a little lower than that.
To my horror, I started to get hard myself, my cock stirring uncomfortably against the zipper of my jeans.
Another flash of another blowjob, adjusting myself so I didn’t injure my dick.
I squeezed my eyes shut to try to blot out the memory and swirled my tongue around the head of MacKenna’s cock, pressing my mouth down onto it, letting it bump into the roof of my mouth. There was no way I could take it any deeper than that, into my throat.
But then MacKenna made a sound. Something like a gasp, but trailing off into a growl.
I knew that sound; I’d made it myself when someone had me on the brink of coming.
Probably terrible blowjob. Yeah, fuck him and his sneering assumptions. I had him right where I wanted him, and I was going to blow his mind, not just his dick.
Drawing the deepest breath I could manage, I gathered up every bit of courage I had and aimed his cock toward my throat. All or nothing. I opened up as much as I could and forced my head down.
And down, and down, my throat spasming and my lungs laboring, eyes watering with the strain of it. My mouth had stretched as wide as it possibly could, saliva leaking out around his thick shaft. All my limbs went kind of distant, floaty, my attention narrowed down to the near-unbearable pressure of his cock filling my throat to bursting.
I swallowed convulsively, again and again, and my lungs felt like they were on fire.
But my cock throbbed in my jeans, agonizingly close to shooting off like a rocket. And for some reason I didn’t gag. Maybe he was so far down inside me that my gag reflex had given it up as a lost cause? Or maybe alpha healing gave me a remarkable power of blowjob.
A half laugh, half moan of pain bubbled up with nowhere to go, and the gargling, choking sound I made around his cock sounded like a death rattle.
It should’ve turned him off. I knew it should’ve turned him off, if he had any decency at all. But his thighs pressed in against my shoulders, and I felt the heat of him as he leaned over me, compressing me into the space created by his body and enclosing me. MacKenna let out a low, reverberating growl, his cock swelled even more, and he shot hot come down my throat in pulse after heavy pulse.
I worked my throat frantically, pushing every drop down inside me.
The growl vibrated through me, seeming to blend with his orgasm and shake me from head to toe.
When the vibrations hit down lower, my stomach clenched and my balls tightened—and I came, helplessly, soaking the front of my underwear and my jeans.
He hadn’t even touched me, not so much as putting a hand on my head to guide me while I choked on his cock. He hadn’t used any force at all, and he certainly hadn’t stimulated me.
