Page 133 of My Unhinged Alphas
“No,” I say, pressing harder, dragging another broken breath out of him. “I’m trying to make you forget.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Then I’ll make it stop hurting for a minute.”
Something in him gives at that. I feel it in the way his hand slides into my hair and grips, not to control me, just to hold on. I unbutton his pants, drag the zipper down, and free him. He’s thick and flushed and already leaking at the tip. My mouth waters at the sight of him.
Vale watches me in the dark, breathing hard, as I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him slowly. “Jesus,” he says.
I smile a little and kiss his scar again. “No,” I whisper. “Not him.”
That earns me the faintest, wrecked curve of his mouth before pleasure drags it away again.
I spit into my palm and work him properly now, slick and slow, twisting at the head, learning the weight of his hot, throbbing cock, the heat of him, the way his body tightens and loosens under my hand. He’s beautiful like this, stripped down and helpless enough to show it, every breath rougher than the last.
“Look at me,” I say.
He does.
I keep stroking him while I shift down the bed, dragging kisses over his chest, his stomach, lower. His hand slides out of my hair and fists in the sheet instead when he realizes where I’m going.
“Lena.”
That warning is weaker now.
I settle between his thighs and look up at him as I stroke him once, twice, then lick the underside of his cock from base to tip.
His whole body jolts. “Fuck.”
I do it again, slower, savoring the salt and heat of him, the way he tries and fails to stay quiet. Then I take the head into my mouth and suck.
Vale curses softly and grabs the back of his own neck like he doesn’t trust his hands anywhere near me.
I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper, one hand working what I can’t fit, the other braced on his hip to hold him still. He tastes good. Better than I expected. Better than is fair. And every noise he makes only makes me want more of him.
He’s trying so hard not to thrust. That’s almost the hottest part.
I pull off just long enough to breathe and say, “You can touch me.”
His eyes go dark at that. “Careful.”
I grin and lick the tip of his cock again. “No.”
That breaks him.
His hand comes to my hair, gentle for half a second, then tighter as I take him back into my mouth. Not pushing. Just needing somewhere to put his shaking. I suck him deeper and moan around him, and the sound makes his hips buck once despite himself.
“Sorry,” he grits out.
I pull off with a wet sound and stroke him faster. “Don’t be.”
I climb back up his body then, kissing him hard before he can say anything else, letting him taste himself on my mouth. He groans into the kiss and rolls us half over, then stops like he’s hit a wall inside himself.
I feel the hesitation. The old guilt.
I put my hand between us and guide him down over me through my panties, rubbing the wet cotton right where I need him most.
He feels it immediately. “Fuck,” he says, quieter this time.
