Alethea
I let out a shaky breath as I felt his cock buried deep inside me while my back pressed against the wall.
His lips crash against mine. The kiss is not gentle. It’s possessive, claiming that he’s marking me in a way no man ever could.
His kiss feels like a firestorm, and I know it will burn me to ashes. But damn it, I crave the flames, even if they consume every piece of me.
Every nerve in my body screams that I should stop this, push him away, fight back.
Instead, I give in completely, gripping him tightly as he thrusts into me. Each movement is deliberate and powerful, hitting every spot that’s been neglected for far too long.
My body responds eagerly, betraying every logical thought in my head.
It’s almost absurd how just weeks ago, Amelia dared me to get laid, teasing me about my dry cunt. And now, here I am, in the arms of Alpha Asher, the very man I thought I’d never let close again again into a passion I can’t control.
“Alpha,” I moan, my voice trembling as he releases my lips. My eyes flutter open, meeting his intense gaze. His green eyes bore into mine as if he were searching for something.
The moment is raw and electric. It’s more than just physical; it’s as if he’s trying to lay claim to my soul.
And I know, deep down, that no matter how hard I try to resist, I’m his in ways I can’t deny.
My breasts bounce with each thrust, and I’m utterly lost in the waves of ecstasy. My head tilts back, hitting the wall as I surrender to the overwhelming sensations.
“Look at me,” he commands, his voice husky and dripping with raw desire. The sound alone sends tingles straight to my core, intensifying the heat where his cock fills me.
I lift my head, meeting his fiery gaze, and his lips curl into something dangerous. “Don’t ever-” he begins but stalls, as he continues to thrust.
He shakes his head slightly as if trying to think deeply. “Does he make you feel this good when he’s inside you?” he finally growls, his tone dripping with jealousy and possession. “Does he make you want him and hate him at the same time?”
I can’t speak as another gasp escapes my lips when he plunges even deeper. Instead, I shake my head, unable to deny the truth.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice softer now, though the tension in his body betrays him.
I shake my head again, my breath catching. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want anything soft or gentle. I need him like this, raw and consuming.
His jaw tightens as he groans loudly, “Don’t ever let him fuck you again.” The possessiveness in his voice sends a new wave of heat through me, and my core clenched tightly around him, drawing another groan from his lips.
Without breaking contact, he moves us to his bed, his cock still buried inside me. He lays back, his hands gripping my waist as I find myself straddling him.
My eyes widen as realization dawns on me-he wants me to take control, to ride him.
With a shaky breath, I start to move, lifting myself and sliding back down onto his length. His hands guide my hips.
“Fuck, Ally, this is… epic,” he breathes, with awe and desire. Sweat trickles down both our bodies, the heat between us is intoxicating.
I lean forward, bringing my lips to his, kissing him deeply as I continue to ride him.
The room is filled with the sounds of our moans and the slapping of our bodies. As the sheets were dampened by our sweat.
“Oh, Ally,” he groans, his voice breaking with emotion. “I want you. I want you so damn much…”
“Say it again,” I gasp, my voice trembling as I quicken my pace.
“I want you,” he repeats, his tone filled with longing and pain. “So damn much that it hurts.”
My heart tightens in my chest as I see the pain in his eyes. He wants me, that much is clear, but something holds him back.
Should I feel happy that my mate desires me so deeply but can’t bring himself to claim me completely? Or should I feel shattered, knowing we’re trapped in this cycle of want and denial?
Before I can dwell on it, he suddenly flips me over, and I gasp at the unexpected movement.
He groans deeply, his cock driving into me, his balls slapping against my clit, sending shockwaves through my body.
“Goddess,” I moan, as my back arch. The sensations are overwhelming, and I reach up, cupping his face as he moves above me.
My fingers trace every inch of him, memorizing the sharp angles of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, and his eye.
He’s beautiful-breathtakingly. And those eyes, swimming with emotions he refuses to voice, threaten to pull me under.
“Asher…” I whisper, but then my voice rises as I say it louder, “Fuck me harder!”
He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. His pace quickens and I feel my core tighten around him, gripping him as the pleasure builds to a breaking point.
The world blurs as his thrusts become faster and deeper, and then everything shatters.
I cry out as I release, my body trembling. A moment later, he groans, his head dropping against my shoulder as he follows, spilling himself inside me.
For a moment, neither of us moves, as we struggle to catch our breath. He slowly pulls away, sitting back, but his hand reaches for mine, holding it tightly as if afraid to let go.
I glance down at our joined hands and my heart twists. I can’t let myself fall into this. I know better.
This between us, whatever it is, can never be.
Without a word, I gently pull my hand from his and get up. My legs are shaky as I make my way to the bathroom.
Once inside, I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed, my lips swollen, and my eyes are with unshed tears.
‘What am I doing?’
I shake my head, trying to compose myself. Suddenly, I sense him behind me.
His dark eyes meet mine in the mirror, like he’s trying to piece me together, to figure out what I’m feeling.
“You good?” he asks softly.
Before I can respond, he turns me around to face him, his hands resting lightly on my arms as if afraid I’ll pull away.
I slowly turn, resting my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart pounding beneath my ear.
It’s like he’s torn between his desires and his guilt, but I didn’t pull away.
He leans down, his lips brushing my forehead, and it stays there longer than I expected.
I can sense the pain in that simple gesture, as though he’s trying to convey everything he’s feeling without words.
I move my hand to his waist, holding him tightly, and I feel the undeniable hardness of his desire. It’s impossible to ignore, and as much as I want to let go, I slowly shift away from him.
But his arms stay wrapped around me, keeping me close. “It’s because of you,” he murmurs, “It’s alive again.”
I shake my head, not sure if I’m ready to accept his words. But he gently tilts my chin, bringing my eyes to meet his.
His gaze is raw and vulnerable. For once, all of his walls seem to come down, and I see the man beneath the Alpha torn.
We just share a quiet moment before we move to the shower. The warm water cascades over us, and for a brief moment, it’s like the world outside doesn’t exist. It’s just us.
I let my guard down, permitting myself to feel what I know is dangerous but undeniable. I can’t help but want him, and I can see he wants me to.
We make love again, the water washing away the remnants of our passion. We laugh between kisses, joking about the little things, and I feel lighter than I have in ages.
Seeing him genuinely smile is like a balm for my soul, and I find myself comparing his face with Declan’s.
I know I should tell him about his son, but something stops me. I want to enjoy this, to see where this strange connection takes us before I complicate things with the truth.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I see him truly happy, I didn’t expect to feel. It’s bittersweet.
I kiss him again as I push all the questions and doubts to the back of my mind. Right now, it’s just us.
We move to the room, both wrapped in our towels. I can’t help but smile at the way he looks, his towel clinging to his body just enough to make my heart race.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I love the way my shirt fits you so well. I want to see you wear it every day.”
I chuckle softly. “That’s cheesy, my Alpha,” I tease, kissing him on the lips. He groans into the kiss, his lips pressing harder against mine.
But then, suddenly, he stiffens. His body goes rigid in a way that makes me pull back in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” I ask in panic, my voice shaky as I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of what’s going on.
His expression is unreadable, his eyes clouded with something deeper, something I can’t quite place. I step back, unsure of what to do. His mood shifted so quickly that it felt like I’d crossed some invisible line.