Page 45 of Alpha’s Conquest

“Mnh,” I grunted, trying not to thrust my hips into his fist. As soon as I got too eager, his hand went still. “When I ran out of cum, my orgasms were even more intense. My thighs shook for days.”

He chuckled in my ear. “I wish I could’ve seen that. There’s still so many things I want to do to you, Casey.” The slow touches made my toes curl, ending with a swirl on my wet tip. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling waves growing inside me that couldn’t quite gain strength. “Eyes on your cock, omega. Don’t take your eyes off it.”

I had to watch him, watch those tantalizing strokes, and see the spurts of pre-cum pooling out every few seconds until his hand was dripping with cum and water. It drove up the intensity, making every touch feel electric. I gasped when another rush of pleasure came over me, and it died just as quickly. This was almost worse than endless orgasms. Despite how sensitive they made me, and how much I felt like I’d die right before I came again, being denied what I wanted was worse. “M-more,” I pleaded, digging my fingers into his arms.

“I like watching you squirm. You do it more when you’re overstimulated, but this…” He trailed off, and we both watched as ecstasy surged through me, an orgasm almost gaining strength and then rolling back like a wave on the sand. My cock throbbed and ached, shooting out a single spurt of pre-cum when it was denied release. “You’re almost wetter than you are when I fuck you.”

“I thought, fuuuck, you didn’t like denying me pleasure?”

“I don’t. But I am enjoying this, just watching you about to explode, already on the cusp without realizing it.” He was right. I was painfully close to an orgasm, but it kept slipping away when he went still. Every time he stroked and stopped, I felt so close to the edge, I could barely breathe. Tensing and trembling with every touch, I almost lost my mind when he started giving my head quick little strokes, the sucking noises of his hand filling the bathroom. Oh god, he was going to make me cum.

I waited, hips tense, thighs shaking, for him to go still again, to keep me on the edge until I lost my mind, but those little strokes kept going, and I writhed in endless pleasure when I realized he wasn’t going to stop. Pleasure surged from the base of my cock, and his quick, wet stroking pulled an orgasm right out of me. My cock shot all over the bath water, my ass clenching with every wave of pleasure. I was cumming so hard, I thought I might black out. He stroked me through every spurt of cum, prolonging my pleasure until I had nothing left to give.

“Good boy,” he praised in my ear as I trembled against him, the surging waves of pleasure still gripping me tightly.

“Three orgasms,” I said, breathless and shaking. He’d made me cum three times already, and it hadn’t even been half an hour. He always knew exactly how to make me come undone.

“How many more do you need tonight, omega?”

I wasn’t sure if I had more in me, but I knew I would go as long as he wanted me to. Some part of me craved feeling overwhelmed again. Turning, I straddled his hips, cupping his neck with my hands. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. Tonight is about your needs.” Smiling, he caressed my neck and face, touching all my tender spots. I leaned down to kiss him, savoring the taste of him on my tongue and moaning over the way he dominated me with just his mouth. My fingertips trailed across his earrings, playing with them like he played with my tongue. It was almost a ritual, touching his piercings when we kissed and licking his tattoos when I straddled him. It drove him wild, and he always responded by squeezing the back of my neck, right on my pheromone center.

We had a routine now.

We’d been together ‌long enough that I knew what he was going to do right before his hand tightened on my neck. I was already anticipating his reactions to everything I did. I knew when he was going to touch my cock again, sensing my unease was far from being settled. But my unease had nothing to do with my hormones spiking, and everything to do with the man underneath me.

TWENTY-FOUR

Casey

Casey

This was so complicated.

It went without saying, obviously, but the thought remained in my head over the next few days, and refused to leave no matter what I did.

The patio of our apartment was my haven away from all the chaos. It was peaceful out there. That helped the turmoil inside me, but not even a cool breeze could erase it. After my weekend in calm, quiet Oakridge, I craved that atmosphere, even deep in the city. Our patio had always been a little empty, so I turned it into a true escape from reality. A string of lights. A cozy bed full of pillows, and some electric candles to set the mood. There was a stack of books and a blanket to cuddle up with if I felt like it. And somehow, with my cozy little nest hidden away from everything by the branches of a tree, I almost forgot where I was. Adam made me feel that way too. When I was with him, even the most trivial emotions seemed far away. But with him gone, all the thoughts returned.

Where was this going with him?

I might have believed what we had wouldn’t last, and that I should stay with Marshall no matter what, but after that bath we shared, when Adam tended to my needs and didn’t take me back home until I had fully calmed down…. that wasn’t the action of a man in lust. But what should I do with that information? Breaking up with Marshall and turning around to date his father would still destroy their relationship. That hadn’t changed. And I wished I could feel bad about all the damage I was doing to Adam’s life, but… being with him was a need, one that he shared, and one neither of us could walk away from. No matter how complicated things got, that was one thing I knew.

I needed Adam. I wanted Adam.

My hand rested against my stomach, remembering what it felt like when he was inside me. It had been days since I last saw him. I just wanted to be in his arms, to feel him wreck my body in the best way possible. Heat licked over me just thinking about it. I’d been feeling warm all day, and that wasn’t helping.

Knock, knock.

Someone rapped against the patio doorway, and I glanced over, expecting to see Marshall standing there.

“Adam.” I jumped up, disrupting my stack of pillows and kicking my book off the bed. He stood in the doorway, that impossibly large frame dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. The sun cast shadows on his freckled face, mirroring the leaves above. When did he get here? My eyes darted to the sliding door and then back to his face. “When did you…”

“Just now.” He joined me on the patio and closed the door behind him. There was something in his hand, a small plant in a blue pot. A long, awkward pause passed between us. He never visited my apartment, not after that first time. “Marshall invited me over for dinner.” And he came, even though it was going to drive him crazy when Marshall touched me. “I missed you.” His voice was low and quiet. Only I could hear the words in his heart. He was putting himself in a vulnerable situation just to see me.

I wanted to hold his hand, but even getting close to him was a bad idea. I wouldn’t be able to stop after I touched him. “I missed you, too,” I mouthed, my voice barely audible.

Clearing his throat, he stared at the tree beside the patio rail for a minute, then came a little closer to my nest. “This is for you.” He pressed the potted plant into my hands. It had small green and white leaves, with little vines creeping out from the sides. The pot was a pretty deep blue. It wasn’t fake, I realized as I brought it close for a sniff. It smelled like him. Earth and plants. The leaves were soft between my fingers. “It’s a Pothos plant. Marshall said you only buy fake plants because you can’t keep a real one alive. This one won’t die on you, even if you forget to water it. Just give it a cup of water every week or so. You’ll know it needs water when you press your fingertip into the soil and it feels dry.”