Page 80 of Altius
“Never heard any tall tales about my dick?”
“Oh, I heard them all right. Figured it was exaggerated locker room talk.”
Her tentative exploration turned into a full stroke, prompting a needy hiss from me—and a sexy little smile from her.
“Guess the other guys were jealous.” Her tongue swept across the tip of my cock, spurring me closer to full hardness. “The rumors didn’t come close to doing you justice.”
I’d never been very imaginative, but that hadn’t stopped me from fantasizing about being with Morgan over the years. But even my filthiest visions had nothing on the overwhelming heat of her mouth.
Bonfires burned in my nerve endings.
She took me deeper, humming with satisfaction. My hands went scrambling. I held onto the covers for dear life as she took me down to the hilt.
Her tongue dragged along the underside of my shaft as she pulled back, savoring every inch.
Somehow, despite the feverish warmth radiating off her body, my saliva-slicked skin felt cold, leaving me shivering with need.
Morgan wrapped her fingers around the base of my cock, turning her wrist in time with the canting of her head as she took me into her mouth once more.
My grunts solidified into proper moans as she sucked and bobbed, hands always moving and twisting, determined to wring me dry. Like she was on a mission to make me come.
As if she had something to prove.
And I let her. Even though I knew there was deliberate thought behind her actions, I didn’t question it. Couldn’t.
Not with my cock breaching the back of her throat.
Or the vise of her fist squeezing the first stirrings of my knot.
All I could manage was to sweep a hand through her bobbed hair, holding it to one side, watching as the girl of my dreams sucked my length with hollowed cheeks.
A characteristic display of determination, but her inhibitions were slipping, along with the robe. The full globes of her breasts swayed just out of reach.
She pulled back, gasping for air. The robe fell to the floor.
And I stared.
At the Olympic rings tattooed on her right collarbone. Her toned arms. The taut plane of her stomach. Her rounded hips. And the powerful quads that had propelled her to glory.
Two decades of dedicated training had carved unyielding strength into her omega softness.
I had no words. Not for her beauty or the depths of my need. If I did anything more than breathe, my control would snap. It was already hard enough to keep my knot at bay. My alpha was roaring for release. And I was only human.
Morgan had me. All of me. In her mouth. In the palm of her hand. Thrilling, tasting, tormenting—never too fast, but often too slow. Dragging out this torturous bliss until I surrendered, scorching the back of her throat with thick spurts of cum.
I got off on the thought of marking her there. My scent would flavor every kiss for hours. Maybe even days if I played my cards right.
Nuzzling my length between licks and kisses, she let out a breathy moan. “Oh, thereyouare.”
“What—ah!” I cried out as Morgan’s fervent sucks and pulls abruptly resumed, hips bucking into her mouth, almost choking her, even though I was spent.
“Morgan, baby, that’s enough.” Fisting my hand in her hair, I gave her head a gentle tug. “Your turn.”
The pressure of her mouth eased, only to transfer to my thighs, along with her possessive touch. Slowly—oh, so slowly—she worked her way upward, tongue swirling over my belly button.
“More,” she demanded breathlessly. “Want more...”
After trailing her tongue along the centerline of my abs, she finally looked up. Her pupils were blown wide, surrounded by a gleaming ring of crystallized amber.
