Chapter 13: You Taste Like Sin

Iris's POV

He pushed me against the desk.

His body pinned mine, his thigh pressing between my legs. I moaned, my hands gripping his shirt, my hips rolling against him. He was hard, so hard, and I could feel it through his pants, the thick length of him pressing against me.

His mouth crashed onto mine, not gentle, not asking. His tongue swept in, claiming, dominating, and I melted into it, my body arching into his. He tasted like whiskey and something darker, something him, and I wanted more. I wanted all of it.

He bit my lower lip, soothed it with his tongue. "You taste like sin, Iris."

His hands slid under my tank, palming my breasts. My nipples were hard, aching, and when he pinched one, I gasped, my back arching off the desk.

"You’re already wet, aren’t you?" His hand slipped into my short, his fingers finding my clit without hesitation. He circled it, once, twice, and I bucked against him, a broken sound tearing from my throat. "You've been like this all day."

"Yes." There was no point lying about it.

He groaned against my neck. "Since breakfast?"

"Since before breakfast." I pressed my hips into his hand. "Please."

He pulled the short down and off and his hands came back to my thighs, spreading them, and he looked at me the way he'd looked at me from the pool edge, like he was finally done looking away, and everything in me tightened with want.

His fingers found me and I bit down hard on my lip.

"Alpha..." The word came out before I could stop it.

Something shifted in his eyes. He pressed deeper and I grabbed his shoulders and held on.

"Say it again," he said, voice completely wrecked.

"Alpha.." My hips rolled against his hand. "Please Alpha."

He growled, the sound vibrating against my lips. Then he flipped me around, bent me over the desk. His hand came down on my ass hard. I cried out, but it wasn’t pain. It was need.

"You’re mine tonight," he snarled, his hand rubbing the sting away before delivering another sharp slap. "Say it."

"Yours." My voice was broken, desperate. "Only yours."

His fingers slid between my legs, teasing my entrance. "Such a good girl, begging for my cock." He pushed two fingers inside me, curling them, and I whimpered, my body tightening around him. "You’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Yes, please."

He added a third finger, stretching me, preparing me. His other hand gripped my hip, holding me in place as he fucked me with his fingers, slow and deep. "You’re dripping, Iris. You’re drowning for me."

I could hear how wet I was, the sounds of his fingers moving inside me. My face burned, but I didn’t care. I needed more. I needed him.

"Alpha..." I begged, my voice breaking.

He pulled his fingers out, and I whimpered at the loss, then I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper lowering. My breath hitched.

"Look at you," he murmured, his hand sliding up my spine. "So pretty, spread out for me. So ready."

I felt the head of his cock press against me, thick and hot. I held my breath.

Then he thrust inside.

I screamed.

He was big, too big, stretching me, filling me in a way that bordered on pain. But my body took him, greedy, my walls clenching around him as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips. "You feel perfect, Iris."

He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in, deeper this time. I cried out, my fingers clawing at the desk. "More," I gasped. "Harder."

He gave me what I wanted. His hips snapped forward, his cock driving into me with brutal precision. The desk creaked beneath us, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. I could hear myself, moaning, begging, my voice raw.

"Take it," he snarled, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back. "Take my cock like a good Omega."

I did. I took every thrust, every inch, my body trembling with the force of it. His other hand reached around, finding my clit, and he rubbed in tight circles, his touch relentless.

"Come for me," he ordered. "Now."

I shattered.

My orgasm crashed over me, my body clenching around him, my scream muffled against the desk. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking me through it, his hips pistoning, his grip on my hair tightening.

"Again," he growled. "Come again, Iris."

I was sobbing now, my body oversensitive, but I couldn’t stop. Another orgasm wrenched from me, my legs shaking, my vision blurring.

Only then did he pull out.

He flipped me onto my back, lifting me onto the desk. His cock was glistening with my arousal, thick and heavy in his hand. He stroked himself once, twice, his eyes dark with lust.

"Open your legs," he commanded.

I obeyed.

He stepped between them, his cock pressing against my entrance again. "You’re mine," he growled, and then he was inside me, filling me in one deep thrust.

I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders. He felt huge, overwhelming, but I wanted it. I wanted all of it.

He fucked me hard, each thrust making the desk scrape against the floor. His mouth found mine again, his tongue sweeping in as his hips snapped forward. I could taste myself on him, could smell the musk of sex in the air.

I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper. He groaned, his forehead pressing against mine.

"You feel so good," he growled. "So fucking tight."

I was close again, my body coiling, my breath coming in sharp gasps. "Alpha..."

"Come for me," he ordered, his hand sliding between us, his thumb pressing against my clit.

I came with a scream, my body locking around him, my nails raking down his back. His hands gripping me like he had no intention of letting go.

We stayed like that for a long moment. His forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard, the study quiet around us except for the sound of it settling back into stillness.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at my face.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yes." I was more than okay. Completely undone in a way that felt like relief rather than damage.

He lifted me off the desk carefully, like I was something worth handling carefully, and I wrapped my legs around him for a moment before he set me on my feet, my legs wobbled. He kept his hands on my waist until they steadied.

He picked up his shirt from the floor and held it out and I put it on.

He led me to the sofa against the far wall and sat, then pulled me in against him.

His hand moved once against my hip. Making sure I was still there.

"Your heat isn't over," he said into the dark. Low, rough, certain. "This is just the beginning."

I stared at the ceiling.

"I know," I said.