Slave To The Alpha King

Before she could recover, he’d rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her. After the first thrust he had to hold still, knowing that if he kept moving, if he gave himself up to the exquisite tightness, the heat, he would explode. He wanted her to come at least once more, with him, and he didn’t want her to tease him.

“You feel so good,” she whispered . . . and then Derek couldn’t hold back any longer. He plunged inside her, deep into that maddening clutch, that heat. Diana moaned, her hands locked onto his shoulders, her breath against his face, her voice in his ear, urging him on.

“Oh, baby,” he gasped as she put her lips against his ear, whispering his name over and over, like a chant, or a song, or a prayer.

If there was going to be awkwardness, it would come when they’d finished; when they looked down and saw that he was still wearing his socks and she still had her panties hooked around one ankle. 

But as soon as they were done, Diana rolled into his arms, curling herself against his chest, and said, “I missed you!” in the friendly, happily surprised voice of a woman who’d bumped into the very one of her heart. 

With her hands balled into fists, she punched lightly at his chest, like it was his fault she was taken away.

“I missed you, too,” Derek said. He’d been smiling for so long he was sure that his face would ache in the morning. “I feel like . . .”

“What?” she asked. “How do you feel?” He remembered how she’d always been interrogating him, quizzing him about his emotions since the day he persuaded to fuck her on his bed.

“Like nothing’s changed,” he said. “Like you went out to get bagels or something, and now you’re home.”

Diana loved the sound of his words, she smiled. “Now I’m home,” she said.

~~~~