Starting any day with pleasure strumming through my veins is what life is all about. Doing it with an Alpha who smells so good it makes my teeth ache is what dreams are made of. If remembered dreams are all I have after this arrangement, I’m savoring each and every one.
Valentine reads my consent as quickly as I give it. In his next breath, his scent thickens and curls around me encouragingly. This morning, for whatever reason there’s no scent blockers to mask his espresso perfume. And it’s heavenly fresh, and invigorating. My heart races, anxious for more.
As obvious as his scent is, Valentine’s presence adjusts too. He stands in front of me, all man, but his Alpha presence becomes impossible to ignore. It rushes against my skin to fill the places Valentine’s physical touches don’t.
“Look at me,” he demands. His voice is nearly as quiet as the muted television, but his demand is like holding a megaphone inside my ears. My eager submission oozes from me, along with the heady, dense notes of my unique caramel perfume.
Valentine’s eyes are ablaze with a vibrancy that makes them glow like sapphires in sunlight. They sparkle with heat and sultry promises, making him impossibly better looking.
“This is mine,” he insists, his gaze burrowing through my already flimsy excuses. “Yes?”
Of course he wants me to agree, and who the hell wouldn’t? “Yes.”
“For as long as I say.”
He’s being forthright but not forceful.
The corner of his eyes crease, and he waits for me to decide. Again.
I agree. Again.
At my renewed and eager consent, it is like something in Valentine lets go. His presence becomes more pronounced, and I see for the first time, he’s been buffering his designation. His power is magnetic and maddening, much like his scent. Right now, all I want is to drown in him.
“And you will.” He growls, again it’s low in volume, only for me. It takes me a second to realize I spoke about drowning in him instead of thinking them. I’m getting used to losing my self-control when I’m near him.
His finger starts gliding slowly again. His touch traces over the band of my shorts, following the seam perfectly. And as he reaches my covered mound, he adds a little more pressure to his touch, and I feel it echo in the soles of my feet. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, Valentine dips his fingers lower, and I see the moment he feels how wet my shorts are already. He removes his finger and steps back before using both hands to stretch the material against my pussy to see how slicked up I am.
“All this for me?”
He disappears before I can answer, but he waits until I’m looking at him before he swipes the flat of his tongue over the patch of wetness, humming in the back of his throat. He does it again before he latches his mouth over my sleep shorts and sucks me through it.
“If you’re thinking I’m not doing this right…” he says sternly before using his teeth to find my swollen clit, drawing it between them. He flicks his tongue, and I stop thinking and start feeling.
Pleasure waves build, and I rock gently, chasing the crest.
Valentine closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as his lips kiss and lick over my pussy. Tugging the shorts to the side, he shuffles back before using his fingers to spread me wide open.
“Fuck, Layne,” he murmurs, before blowing over the wetness and making me shiver. When he blows again, he follows the undulation of my body, burying his tongue deep inside my pussy, so deep his nose is up against my pelvic bone.
His tongue darts in and out of my body, then he adds a finger and starts sucking on my clit. Hard. Stars fill my eyes, and I feel myself surrendering to the sweet moment.
I want to ask him to knot me stupid, but I’m too selfish, too desperate to fall apart on his face. Adding another finger, he makes ungodly sounds as he eats me out, noises that should make me embarrassed, but all they do is add more heat to the moment. After taking his fill, he dips lower. I go to argue, but the look in his eyes stops me; he’s enjoying himself as much as I am.
Valentine fingers me harder, faster for a few magical moments, then stops to lick and suck on my clit before he takes me as high as I can go. Or as high as I think I can. Twisting his magical fingers and sucking harder, the noise he makes, the humming and groaning has me whining in desperation. His pinkie breaches my ass just as he scissors his fingers.
I snap. I bury my fingers in his perfectly styled hair and hold his face against my pussy, grinding on his wicked grin until I come on a long, low groan.
Every part of me blasts outward, and I come back to myself full of shivering tingles and that beautiful, floaty feeling. Releasing my hands from his hair, and my thighs from his ears, Ilaugh when he stands up and wraps his hand around my face to kiss me. I taste myself on his lips, but I also taste his happiness.
Without asking, because I know this is not a tit-for-tat situation, I push against him before falling straight to my knees.
“No…”
“I want,” I insist, fumbling with the buckle on his belt. He drops his hand to cover it, stopping me from undoing his pants.
He hooks his free hand around my neck, pulling me back to my feet. “I’ll fill your stomach so full it stretches. But not now.” He accompanies his words with a bark.
His rebuttal stings, but he silences it by slamming his mouth to mine again and licking the rejection off my lips.
