Page 31 of His Problem Alpha
But I want more. I want all of him.
I pull off with a wet pop, ignoring his whine of protest. "Turn over," I command, releasing his wrists. "On your hands and knees."
He complies immediately. The sight of him like this—ass in the air, face pressed into my pillow, waiting for me—sends a surge of possessive heat through my veins.
"So good for me," I murmur, running my hands over the curve of his ass. "So perfect."
He shivers at the praise. He responds to praise like he’s starving for it, like no one has ever told him how good he is.
I spread him open, my thumbs pulling his cheeks apart to expose his hole. It's glistening with slick, his omega biology responding to my alpha presence.
"Alex?" he questions, his voice muffled by the pillow. "What are you—oh fuck!"
The last word turns into a shout as I lean in and lick a long, slow stripe from his balls to his hole. The taste explodes on my tongue—musky, sweet, complex. It's the scent of him concentrated, a flavor I know I'll crave like a drug. I dive in deeper, my tongue circling his entrance before pushing inside. He's not just slick; he's hot and alive, and the sound he makes—a broken, desperate noise—is the only reward I need.
"Alex," he gasps, his voice wrecked. "Oh god, Alex, please—"
I pull back just enough to speak, my voice rough. "Please what, omega? Tell me what you need."
"You," he says, the word a sob. "Inside me. Please, Alpha, I need you inside me."
The title—Alpha—sends a bolt of primal satisfaction straight to my core. I growl, a low, possessive sound that makes him shiver. "Since you asked so nicely."
I reach for the lube in my nightstand and slick myself quickly. Even though he’s wet with his own slick, I want to make this good for him. I want to ruin him for anyone else.
I line myself up, the head of my cock pressing against his entrance. "Look at me," I command. He turns his head, his eyes finding mine over his shoulder. "I want to see your face when I fill you up."
His eyes are glazed, his pupils blown wide. His lips are parted, red and swollen from where he's been biting them. He looks wrecked.
I push in slowly, watching his face as I fill him inch by inch. His eyes flutter, his mouth falling open on a silent gasp. The tight heat of him is almost too much, a pleasure so intense it borders on pain. When I'm fully seated, I pause.
"You okay?" I ask, my voice strained.
He nods, his eyes glazed. "Yes. God, yes. Move, please move."
I obey, drawing back before pushing in again, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust is measured, controlled, hitting that spot inside him that makes his back arch and his breath catch.
"So good," I murmur, leaning down to press my chest against his back. The position lets me reach around and stroke his cock in time with my thrusts. "Taking me so well. My perfect omega."
He whimpers at the praise, his body clenching around me. "Alex," he gasps, his voice breaking. "I'm close, I'm so close—"
"Not yet," I growl, tightening my grip on the base of his cock. "Not until I say."
He makes a frustrated sound but doesn't protest. The submission in that silence is dangerously addictive.
I shift my angle, driving deeper, harder. My free hand tangles in his hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat. I bite down on the sensitive junction of his neck and shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark.
"Mine during heats," I growl against his skin, punctuating the words with a particularly deep thrust. "Mine when you need it." Another bite, another mark of possession. "Mine."
The last word is a primal claim that tears from my throat without conscious thought. Devon responds with a broken moan, his body trembling.
"Please," he begs, his voice cracking. "Please let me come. I need—"
"Come for me," I command, releasing my grip on his cock and stroking him in time with my thrusts. "Show me how good I make you feel."
He comes with a shout, his body clenching around me in rhythmic pulses that push me over the edge. My orgasm tears through me. I bury myself deep inside him, filling him with hot pulses that feel like branding him from the inside out.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We're locked together, breathing in ragged gasps. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something deeper, something that feels like belonging.
