Rose #2
My eyes snap to his face, and I root around for a response. “Huh?”
Yikes.
This man’s chest has been quietly killing off brain cells. Oh well. If that’s how they go, that’s how they go.
His lips twitch. “Are you cold?” He gives my chest a pointed glance.
I look down.
Pebbled nipples.
Right.
“Um. No. That’s, uh, not the reason for those.” I almost cover myself. The heat in his gaze convinces me to keep my arms at my sides.
“Hmm,” he says coolly before derailing my mind again when he undoes his flies and pushes his trousers down his legs.
There could be a world-ending flaming asteroid hurtling down on my head, and you couldn’t pay me to look away from this.
“Sweetheart?”
I chew on my lip, eyes fixed on the long, thick cock I’m itching to touch. I’ve felt those ridges against my palm. Now I want to taste those veins with the tip of my tongue. “Yeah?”
His fingers catch my chin, tilting my head up and breaking my stare. “I’m going to need you to stop staring and biting your lip like that before I blow my load right over your gorgeous tits.”
I’m briefly stunned by his openness. Then… strangely aroused by it? I guess sometimes you don’t know what you like until you hear someone say it.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” I ask tentatively.
He squeezes his eyes shut and massages his temples, muttering what can only be a prayer for divine intervention to get through this in one piece, which makes me smile.
“I was going to tie your wrists to this bed with my belt and fuck you until you came screaming around my cock.”
All trace of my amusement evaporates. My mouth hangs open, stunned by the casual ease with which he admits what he wants to do to me.
What does a person say to that?
But my body? My lower extremities? That’s lighting up like slot machines hitting a jackpot in Vegas.
Murph eventually takes pity on me, a smile creasing the corners of his eyes. With his thumb, he nudges my gaping mouth shut, presses a far too brief kiss on it, and sinks onto the bed beside me instead of falling on top of me and fucking me the way I need him to.
He continues in the same calm tone, staring across the room toward my window with the drapes shut, “But I can’t do that to you, and obviously Ben would hear you screaming at me to fuck you harder.”
I don’t say a word. I just close my eyes. If I open my mouth, I’ll say something that will make me a truly terrible mother.
I don’t care.
Murph is silent.
Then I hear him take a breath. A longer one. The soft squeak of the mattress beneath me gives way as he—though I’m only imagining this—turns to look at me.
And my name…
“Rose?” It’s breathy and gruff at the same time. “You smell… fuck.”
I’d forgotten that.
Here I am, thinking that if I stay still, keep my eyes closed, and press my thighs together, he won’t know how badly I need him inside me. But alphas have noses. Sharp, sharp noses. And an alpha always knows when an omega is aroused.
I’m not the least bit surprised when a large, warm hand presses against my left thigh, parting it from my right. There’s another long inhalation. A deeper, husky groan.
My heart stops as Murph leans over me, gripping my wrists and pushing them up over my head, and the cool, hard weight of something looping around them. His leather belt. He’s tying my wrists to the headboard.
I keep my eyes tightly closed. Something about not seeing his expression, only guessing at what’s happening around me, anticipating what Murph will do to me next is a massive turn-on I wasn’t expecting.
My insides go slick imagining him pushing my thighs apart and sliding deep. At being completely at his mercy…
Murph moves faster, his hands shaking as if he knows exactly what this is doing to me. God, the anticipation is killing me. I shift restlessly, trying to rub my thighs together, but I can’t with the leg he inserts between them to keep mine open.
“Murph?” I whisper, my breath unsteady.
“I know,” he croons, nuzzling the nape of my neck and pressing a kiss on my pulse. “I know what you need. Wait just a little longer for me to give it to you.”
He fiddles with the belt looped around my wrists a little more.
When he removes his hands and I pull on my arms, I can’t move them more than an inch from the headboard.
It’s tight enough to keep me where he wants me, but not tight enough to hurt.
He has me exactly where he wants me, and no one is happier about that than I am.
“So damn pretty,” he rumbles, and I feel the heat of his gaze sweeping over me, “laid out just for me. The best kind of present a man could ever want.”
He cups my right breast with one large hand, its weight filling his palm. I release a soft sigh, gasping as he nips my throat.
His slow smile stretches across my throat as the soft bristles of his stubble brush against my chin. “Ah, I never mentioned the bites I intend to leave all over this pretty skin, did I?”
Bites?
Swallowing down the need that’s spiking my veins, I shake my head. “Where?”
“Everywhere.” He strokes one large hand possessively over me, and I start holding my breath when the tip of his finger teases the edge of my clit.
He nips my shoulder; a harder bite that he follows up with a slow, firm lick.
“Murph!” My back arches instinctively, craving more of his rough touch.
He chuckles. “You like my mouth on you.”
“Yes.” I open my eyes, not just wanting to see him put his mark on me, but needing to.
He angles down, his lips at my left nipple, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, before lifting his head again. “Let's see where else you like my mouth. Close those beautiful eyes, baby. And just feel all the things I do to you.”
I close them.
His hands stroke over my curves, that hot, hungry mouth following close behind, nipping, kissing, sucking, and soothing the sting of each brief flare of pain away.
Slowly, he works his way down my body. I’m awash in sensation. In anticipation. He hooks my thighs, lifting both and spreading me wide. My heart stops. Every part of me wants to open my eyes.
What is he doing?
Staring at me?
Licking his lips the way he did as he peered down at my breasts?
“Ripe peaches and wild honey.” His hot breath blows across my exposed pussy. He draws a breath and lets out a deep groan, the sound tightening my belly. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
My fingers grip the strap of his belt as my heart hammers against my chest. “Yes.”
The tip of his tongue slides along my pussy, and I whimper, then moan when he does it again.
And again. I grind myself against his face, and could almost cry in frustration when he chuckles and stops.
He pushes a finger inside me, in an inch, out, then in again, but deeper. I suck in a breath, nearly choking.
Eyes closed and body trembling, I’m barely breathing as he finger-fucks me.
“So damn tight. You’re going to strangle my dick with this pussy, aren’t you, darlin’.”
The thought of being stretched around his cock makes my muscles tighten around him.
Groaning, he drops a kiss on the inside of my thigh. “Let’s see about getting you ready for my cock.”
I don’t need to be readied. One thrust and he’d slide right in, my body welcoming every hard inch.
One finger transitions to two, the wet sounds of his motions and my whimpers filling the room. As he slowly stretches me open, the tip of his tongue traces my clit.
“Oh god!” I writhe. “I can’t be quiet, I can’t—” I let out a moan and bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
He picks up the pace, two thick digits fucking me faster as he gently sucks my clit into the warmth of his mouth.
I choke on my moan, grinding my pussy against his face as my orgasm tears into me, leaving me shaking.