Page 28 of In Control

“Yes,” I moan.

He plays with it as he lowers his mouth to my folds, sweeping his tongue through me and making me scream every time he connects with my clit.

I am wet – he’s right – and getting wetter. Maybe it’s the doctor thing, because he seems to understand my body and just what he needs to make me come against his tongue and around his fingers.

He laps at me, as I flop down boneless on the mattress, absolutely destroyed by his fingers.

“Enough torture,” I gasp, “fuck me already.”

He brushes his hand across his face, wiping away the mess I’ve made of his chin and then he’s stepping out of his jeans and his boxers.

My gaze lands on his stiff cock. That niggle of doubt plays in my head. Can I take him? But I took the professor and I’m about as wet as I have ever been. I’m more than willing to give this a try.

“Come here, naughty girl,” he says, beckoning me with a crook of his finger. “I want you on my cock, riding me like you did earlier.”

That bloody self-assured attitude.

I don’t move. “Try a ‘please’,” I tell him.

“You don’t want my cock?” he asks, gripping it in his fist and gliding down his long shaft.

Oh I want it, but I’m not his to push around.

“About as much as you want my pussy, Alpha.”

He growls. “You don’t get to call me alpha, little one, and then act all bratty.”

He pumps himself harder, eyes roaming over my body, lingering on my wet pussy. There’s a hunger in his eyes.

I spread my legs wider, giving him a more intimate view and then I touch myself, pinching open my folds and playing with my clit before I slip two fingers inside me. I’m even wetter than I realised, obscenely wet.

“It seems we have a stand off, then. I want your pussy. You want my cock. So come here.”

“Not until you ask nicely.”

“I have asked nicely, Sophia.”

I shake my head. “Say the word, Alpha,” I say, stealing from that other alpha’s playbook. “And you can fuck me anyway you want to.”

“Anyway I want to?” He steps forward. “I want to fuck you every possible way. On your back, on your stomach, on your knees and in my lap, up against the wall and over my desk.”

I suppress a moan. My fingers aren’t nearly enough.

“Just say it,” I pant, “just say it and then we both get what we want.”

“Because you want this?”

“I do!” I whimper.

He steps closer again, and leans over the bed, his mouth hovering above me. I watch his lips form the word, “Please,” and I’m hooking my legs around his waist, yanking him down. He’s inside me in one powerful thrust.

It knocks the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my mind.

There’s only that intense sensation. Too much. Too much pleasure, too much stretch, too much intensity, too much length.

But despite all that, he fits, somehow this giant man fits inside me.

I smile with the satisfaction of it.

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