OH Dear Alpha Brother
“Desmond,” I breathed out, “don’t.”
But he didn't listen to my plea.
His lips found my neck, his teeth gently grazing the frantic pulse that betrayed my panic. My skin instantly lit up beneath his mouth, a complete traitor to my mind. When his hand slid lower, tugging at the drawstring of my skirt, a terrifying mix of panic and deep heat crashed together inside me.
“Desmond, please. This is wrong.”
“Nothing about you has ever been wrong to me,” he growled out against my throat.
Clothes instantly fell away as if they had never mattered. My shirt. His shirt. My skirt. The last threads of my will to fight.
He settled heavily between my thighs, a burning hot weight. I felt him hard against me, thick and urgently insistent. My breath hitched sharply when the blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance.
“Tell me to stop, Ana,” he said, his voice ragged, his eyes desperately locked on mine. “Say the word, and I will immediately.”
I opened my mouth to speak. No sound escaped.
He pushed in, moving with agonizing slowness, stretching me open inch by painful inch. A broken, strangled sound left my throat as he filled me completely, buried deep to the hilt inside my most intimate space. My inner walls instantly clenched around him, shocked, aching, and intensely alive.
He stilled his movement, letting me fully register every powerful throb of him inside me.
“Fuck, Ana,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. “You feel completely like mine.”
Then, he moved again.