37. KATIE
Chapter thirty-seven
KATIE
T hese Alphas and smells . For fucks sake, Max is nuzzling my thighs and taking deep inhales of the scent between my legs. If I wasn’t so turned on I would be beet red with shame.
“Gods above, Katie you smell delicious.” One of his big hands slides up my leg, from my calf to my thigh, before hooking into the waistband of my legging.
“But there’s nothing like the real thing.” He growls, before peeling the tight leggings from my body. They get stuck on my sneakers, and he yanks them off, along with my socks, with a frustrated growl. Then he tosses my leggings blindly into the office, before turning his feral gaze back on me.
It’s alarming, the absolute hunger I see reflected back in his dark eyes.
But it’s scratching an itch, an itch inside me that wants to be pursued, be chased by this beast of a man. I don’t want to run to get away; I want to run so he can catch me, and fuck me like the prize I am.
“Let’s see how wet you are for me, Tough Girl.” Max glides one finger over my plain black cotton panties. He smirks down at me.
“Wet for me already? And I haven’t even gotten started.”
“Don’t get cocky,” I warn. But we both know I’m not going to do anything, not when he takes the heel of his palm and gently rubs a wide circle around my clit. The friction of my wet panties electrifies my nerves, and I groan. It’s been so long since someone has touched me like this.
“Lie back,” Max says, pressing lightly against my hips. He’s in control, but he’s not dominating me. I slowly lower myself to the desk as Max lifts one of my legs and places my foot flat against his shoulder. He kisses my instep, then the top of my foot, then my ankle.
“Please tell me you’re not one of those guys with a foot fetish,” I say, gasping as he glides one hand down the long length of my leg.
Damn, I’m glad I shaved last night.
Max pauses, frowning. “A foot fetish?”
“Like, feet turn you on?”
“Is that a thing on Earth?” He sounds befuddled. “I mean, every inch of you turns me on, so I could develop a foot fetish.” He kisses my foot again and I squirm.
“Or a kneecap fetish.” He leans in and kisses my bent knee.
“Or the crease of your ass cheek fetish.” He leans in, reaching for me, but I snort and push him back with my foot.
Max stands, letting my leg fall wide open on the desk. He grabs me firmly by the hips.
“But I definitely already have one fetish.”
“Oh?” I ask, a little breathless.
With a quick tug, he rips off my already ruined panties.
“I have a certified Katie Wilder pussy fetish.”
I laugh, trying to loosen the tension growing in my taut body. But I can’t. Max kneels again, nuzzling my thighs, this time to inch them wider, before lightly teasing my folds with the tip of his tongue.
The pleasure spikes as quick as a jolt of lightning. It strikes again as his tongue licks lightly up and around my clit.
“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he whispers, blowing against my skin. I whine, grabbing a fist full of his thick hair.
“Relax, Tough Girl. You don’t have to force this. I want to give you everything. Just open up for me.”
Then he strokes deeper, his tongue parting my folds, tasting the depth of me. He swirls up and around my clit, sending jolts of pleasure pulsing up my core.
Again he strokes deep into my pussy, his tongue lapping inside, reawakening sensations that had been dormant since before the deployment explosion.
“Oh God,” I moan, the pleasure building higher and higher, with each stroke of his tongue. He pauses, and I squeeze his glossy hair in my fist, wanting to force him back, to finish what he started.
But he isn’t done.
“I told you to relax, Omega,” he says with mock sternness. “Now I’m going to show you what happens when you try to take control.”
Max plunges a finger inside me, pumping up high against my G spot. His palm cups my pussy, and my clit rubs against him with each thrust. I throw my head back down to the desk, arching up to meet his palm, the pleasure sparking like heat lighting behind my eyelids.
“Oh God!” I shout, the pleasure so sudden and intense I am not sure I can keep from breaking. Max takes that as permission to slide a second finger in with the first, pumping me into the desk, my hips rocking in time with his hand.
“Does my Tough Girl like being finger fucked on the boss’s desk?” Max cooes. “Because I plan on every inch of this desk to be drenched in your scent. I want everything in here to smell like you. I want my desk to shine with your release, so every time I smell your aroused perfume, I remember that I made my Omega into a fucking wet mess with just my fingers.”
“Max,” I whisper. But the tension is building in my core. I don’t think I can ride this wave any higher.
“I want to drink all of you in, Tough Girl. I want to taste all your pretty pussy will give me. And I want to hear my name coming from your lips.”
He leans back down, swirling his tongue around my clit,
“Fuck!” I moan, so close to exploding.
Oh God, this man. The sensation of his pulsing fingers and his tongue is too much. I am too tight. Too fucking tight with pleasure. There’s nowhere for any more of it to go.
I arc off the desk, aching for more depth and more friction, but also too full of it. I push my arms out wide, scattering stacks of crisp white paper. They slide off the desk, fluttering around Max’s head and shoulders where he’s swirling his tongue around the edge of my clit, before leaning in and sucking.
“Jesus!” I tremble with the shot of pure pleasure spiking through my core. Grabbing Max’s hair, I force him closer, as the tight coil of pleasure shatters, sending electric zings of pleasure pulsing to every finger tip.
Max presses his fingers deeper, curling them just enough to hit me there in my elusive G-spot, one so few other boyfriends ever bothered finding, but where Max is stroking me until I am tight and whimpering as the pleasure coil tightens, and tightens.
I am so taut that I am going to burst at the seams. I am going to combust with pleasure right here on his desk. I raise my hips higher, wanting even more even as I can barely stand it.
“Max!” I scream his name like a curse, or a prayer. Pleasure shudders through me, brilliant and blazing, setting each nerve ending on fire. Fuck even my nipples prickle with the pleasure and he didn’t even touch them.
“That’s right,” he growls into my pussy. “Let all this magic come to you, Tough Girl. Let me give you all of this pleasure.” Max slowly strokes me through the trembling waves of my orgasm as I descend from the highest height.
I collapse on his desk, my limbs loose and open, the languid drug of pleasure weighing me down.
“Katie, my queen.” Max rests his head against my thigh. “You taste like fucking heaven. If we were in bed, I would ask for seconds.”
“Seconds?” I squeak. I’m limp and my thighs are already shaking.
“Babe,” he says as he scoops my boneless form up to cradle me against his chest. “I want to fucking feast on your pussy every morning before work out. And then again before lunch. And then of course as after dinner dessert.”
Heat flushes my body. I’d had guys who’d eat me out – I mean, it’s more fun to have a girl who’s relaxed for sex, right? But no one who was legitimately enthusiastic about it. Not like this.
“I don’t know if I have that stamina,” I laugh, cupping his face with my palm. It feels good to laugh with him, to relax with him.
“We can work up to it, Tough Girl. Do training sessions. Orgasm workouts. I’ll be your coach. We can set goals; let’s start with three orgasms a day.”
“Three!”
“From me, you’ll have to assume Cal and Lor at least one one apiece, though I’m sure they’ll fight for more. But five is a good round number to start with. We can work on doubling it once you’ve had more practice.”
I snort and shove at him weakly. His eyes twinkle, and for the first time in a long time I feel well and truly safe . Calm. Relaxed.
“Thank you.” I bite my lip. “Now should I…” I reach out and finger the waistband of his gym shorts. He’s sporting a powerful erection, and I’m more than a little curious about what Amaata men have below their waistbands. But he shakes his head.
“No. Not today. I want this time to just be about me getting to explore you. About you getting to relax after a long day. We have time for all the fetishes you people have on Earth, I promise. Big toes, little toes, kneecaps…” He smiles, leaning down to plant a light kiss on my kneecap. “Next time, you can be in charge.”
I rub the tip of my nose against his. A childish gesture, but one that elicits a laugh I feel down in his chest. Warmth floods me. Not the orgasmic pleasure bomb that is Max’s tongue and fingers --Christ, how can any woman resist that?
This warmth makes me want to laugh, and sing, and curl up in the sun and not worry about anything ever again.
Because of this ridiculous man.
I nuzzle him again, a rush of endorphins flooding me with another round of blissed-out relaxation. The same anxiety of work that needs to get done, of worries over my sisters tries to creep in and ruin this moment. I force it back down. Instead, I gently kiss the Alpha in my arms.
“Deal.”