Alphas of Seduction

by Victoria Blue

  “Good. Because I find you utterly panty-melting.”

  “Jesus Christ.” His chest heaves. He licks his lips. “Kaylee, I’ve honestly never—”

  The waitress is suddenly standing at the table, laying plates of food in front of us. We thank her politely and dig into the food, our eyes blazing.

  “Good,” he says, referring to the chicken kabob he’s chomping on.

  I nod my agreement. “So tell me something,” I say, putting my half-eaten kabob down. “After I relieved you of your pesky virginity, did you go on an epic tear when you got back home?”

  Ben laughs. “Bloody hell, did I ever. But only after getting back together with my ex for a bit first.”

  “The one you broke up with before coming to the States?”

  “That’s the one. But it didn’t last. We were doomed. But, yeah, I went on a bit of a tear after that, trying out all the cool tricks my hot teacher taught me.”

  I can’t help smiling at that. “And did all the cool tricks I taught you work like gangbusters?”

  “Not nearly as well as they’d worked on you, to be honest. Turns out, you’re a bit of a . . . How shall I put this delicately?”

  “Careful.”

  “Live wire.”

  I nod my approval of his word choice. “Why didn’t it last with the girlfriend? Was she pissed you’d lost your virginity to some random American girl while she sat at home, piously pining for you, her hymen neatly intact?”

  Ben puts down his beer, a snarky expression on his gorgeous face. “Wrong on all counts, sweetheart. First off, you weren’t some random American girl. I’d perved hard at your photo on Carter’s Instagram way before the camping trip. Asked about you. I wasn’t planning to go on that camping trip at all, actually—I’d had some ‘hot date’ lined up for that weekend. But then I found out you’d decided to come at the last minute, and I dropped that other girl like a hot potato.” He smiles devilishly at my flabbergasted reaction. “And second off, my ex-girlfriend wasn’t sitting around piously pining for me, her hymen intact. Quite the opposite. When I got home, I found out she’d started dating a mate of mine pretty much the minute I’d left and wound up losing her virginity to him a couple weeks after my departure.”

  “Holy shit. That was quick.”

  “I thought so, especially considering I’d waited two months after leaving, out of respect.”

  “How long had you two dated?”

  “Well over a year. During which she always said she was waiting for marriage. It blew my mind to think that, in the end, she lost her virginity way before I did, not that I knew it at the time.”

  I chuckle. “That’s funny.”

  He shakes his head. “I certainly didn’t see the humor in it then.”

  “And now?”

  He smiles. “I think it’s hilarious.”

  “Did you find out she’d banged your buddy before or after you had sex with her?”

  “Before.”

  “And you still banged her when you got home?”

  He shrugs. “She offered and I couldn’t pass it up. After a full year of waiting on her, I wasn’t gonna turn down an opportunity to taste that fruit, even if I felt hurt and betrayed she’d fucked my mate. We’d broken up, after all—so I felt her conduct was shitty, but not, you know, flat-out wrong. At least, that’s how I rationalized it to convince myself to give it a whirl with her.”

  “And how was it when you had sex with her? Everything you’d dreamed it would be?”

  “Not at all. Turns out, I felt nothing but angry and betrayed. Plus, she was boring as hell. It was absolutely nothing like it was with you.”

  My skin pricks to think he was in Australia, comparing sex with another girl to sex with me . . . because, truth be told, I was in America, doing the exact same thing with my next partner. And the next one. And the next. “I’m sure she felt betrayed by you, too, though, you know?”

  “Why?”

  “You broke up with her and went to America and fucked some nobody you didn’t even care about.”

  “I didn’t sleep with her best mate.”

  I nod, acknowledging he’s made a good point.

  “In the end,” he continues, “I couldn’t fully enjoy it with her. I had too many weird thoughts going through my head while I fucked her. It was my first lesson that the physical act isn’t the biggest turn-on for me. It’s more what’s going on between my ears at the time.”

  Again, my skin pricks. This man is turning me on like crazy. I can feel a wet spot forming on the crotch of my panties.

  Ben continues, “Plus, like I said, even if my mind had been right with her, she just wasn’t like you in the sack. No fun. Totally repressed.”

  “Well, she wasn’t experienced.”

  “It was more than that. She was all hung up. Felt guilty and dirty. She wasn’t carefree and fun like you.” He looks sheepish. “Honestly, I couldn’t get her to come. Don’t know if it was her or me, but it was just a train wreck. With you, it was exciting. Thrilling. I felt like a god.”

  I laugh.

  Ben continues, “You knew exactly what to do to get me off. You showed me how to get you off. And that made me get off even harder. With you, it was like the earth moved. With her, it was just, you know, clinical.”

  I nod. It’s not the first time a guy has told me sex with me was heads and shoulders better than sex with any other girl he’s ever been with, to be honest. But it’s the first time the words are making me feel like bursting into tears of joy. I take a long sip of my martini to steady myself. “I hope to God you’ve had better luck through the years, making women come.”

  “You bet.” He winks. “But still, nobody’s ever held a candle to you. Don’t know if it was because you were my first, or if you’re just a unicorn, but I can honestly say, you’re still the gold standard to this day.”

  Warmth spreads through my core. “Thank you.”

  “Just speaking the truth.”

  Holy shit. I clear my throat. “So what’s the job that brought you to LA?”

  “A role on a soap opera.”

  “You’re an actor?”

  “I pretend to be.” He grins. “So far, I’ve got ’em all fooled, it seems.”

  I laugh. “Which soap opera?”

  “It’s called General Hospital.”

  “Get the fuck outta here!”

  He laughs. “You know it?”

  “Of course I do! I used to watch that with my grandma! I haven’t watched it in forever, but it’s super famous here. Oh my gosh, Ben! Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’d you get into acting? I remember you being shy.”

  “Yeah, I still am in big groups. But thanks to a lot of acting classes, I’ve learned how to, you know, fake it till I make it. I got started as a fitness model back home when a scout saw me on campus. That led to a bunch of print work. Then TV commercials. From there, I started getting small roles here and there on the telly. I got a small role on the most popular soap opera in Australia, and then my part got expanded after the producers got a flood of emails about me. That led to me getting an agent here in LA and finally getting offered a role on General Hospital. My contract is for six months, but my agent says they might renew for another six months if things go well—if I still want to continue on the show by then, that is. My agent says she’s positive she can get me lots of auditions for movies and TV shows out here, so who knows what might happen.”

  I palm my forehead. “Ben, that’s incredible. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m pretty chuffed about it.”

  “Is your character Australian or will you be doing an American accent on the show?”

  “The part was written to be American, but my American accent is so damned terrible they decided to make the character Australian.”

  I laugh. “Wow, they must really love you.”

  He smiles broadly but doesn’t deny it.

  “Let’s hear your American accent,”
I say.

  “Oh, God, it’s terrible.”

  “That’s why I want to hear it. Tell me about your family or something.”

  Ben babbles a bit about his family back home, using an American accent, and I swoon and giggle and correct him now and again on his pronunciation.

  “Told you I’m terrible,” he says, a huge smile on his gorgeous face.

  “I wouldn’t say terrible,” I say. “You’re not perfect by any stretch, but you’re not nearly as bad as you think. I’d be happy to help you with your accent whenever you like, if you think you’ll need it for any upcoming auditions.”

  His face lights up . . . and, suddenly, I realize what I’ve just implied—that tonight isn’t a one-shot deal for us.

  “Cheers, that’d be great, thanks,” he says.

  “I mean, you know, if we see each other again after tonight,” I say, just before bringing my glass to my lips to hide my smile.

  Ben rolls his eyes. “So you do play games.”

  “Told ya.” I grin.

  He leans forward. “Just to be clear, there’s no doubt we’re gonna be seeing each other again after tonight. In fact, I’m already planning our second date in my head.”

  I blush. “Is that so?”

  “Fuckin’ oath.”

  I laugh. “How can you be so sure? You don’t even know me. Maybe I’m a nightmare.”

  “Sweetheart, if you’re a nightmare, I never want to wake up.”

  I laugh.

  “And as far as getting to know you, that’s precisely why I invited you for drinks. To get to know you. Which I intend to do—inside and out.”

  I blush. There’s no mistaking his sexual innuendo. “Oh. I thought you invited me to seduce me.”

  “I’m multitasking.” He winks.

  Heat floods my crotch. “You multitask quite well.”

  “I do a lot of things quite well. Can’t wait to show you.”

  I blush again.

  Ben flashes me an outrageously sexy smile. “So what do you do for a living, Kaylee?”

  “You don’t already know?”

  “I do. I asked Carter. But I don’t want to come across as a creeper, so I’m pretending I don’t know.”

  “Good thinking,” I say. I grin. “That strategy is totally working.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, I work as a fitness instructor at a boutique gym here in Santa Monica. Yoga and spin classes. And I’m studying to become a nutritionist.”

  He asks me some questions about my job and aspirations and I answer him. He laughs whenever I tell a joke. We swap stories. Laugh some more. We order another round of drinks. More easy conversation follows. And I can’t stop staring at his lips the whole time. At the movement of his tongue when he swigs his beer. I’m dying to kiss him. And feel that sexy tongue and lips on my clit. He tells me about some auditions he’s had in Australia. The godawful ones and the successful ones. And we laugh and swoon and undress each other with our eyes. Clearly, this conversation is foreplay. He knows it. I know it. Tonight, Ben and I are going to fuck. Hard. Long. Deliciously. And I can’t wait.

  Finally, our third drinks are drained. The food is gone. Our eyes are locked. And there’s a sudden and unmistakable lull in the conversation. Clearly, we’re both thinking the same thing. Let’s get out of here.

  “You want another drink?” Ben asks, motioning to my empty.

  “No, I’m good.”

  Ben motions to the waitress for the check. She comes to the table and he quickly pays her. And then he shoves his wallet back into his jeans and smiles at me. “Kaylee.”

  “Ben.”

  “I want to take you someplace where I can kiss you. For a very long time. And in private. And not just on your mouth.”

  My clit pulses. “I live three blocks from here. And lucky you, I just so happen to be free all night long.”

  Ben stands and puts out his hand. “Off we go. I’ve been thinking about the student becoming the teacher for a bloody long time.”

  Chapter 4

  I slide my key into my lock, unlock my front door, and invite Ben inside my small one-bedroom apartment. He walks past me, a crooked smile on his face, and I shut the door behind us with a soft click. And that’s it. It’s on. He pushes me against the door with all six-foot-whatever inches of him, presses his hard-on into my pelvis, and kisses me.

  I slide my arms around his neck and press my body against his and return his kiss with enthusiasm, the movement of his tongue against mine sending shockwaves of desire straight between my legs.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper when Ben’s hungry lips move from my lips to my neck. “You’re so fucking hot, Ben.” I tug on his shirt, panting, and he takes the hint and pulls it off, revealing his ripped abs and chest. His ink. But there’s not much time to ogle, unfortunately, because, suddenly, my dress is being lifted up and off.

  Ben quickly busies himself with removing my bra. And then devouring my breasts like a starving man. Sucking them. Licking them. Burying his face in them. Caressing. Groping. Reveling.

  “Oh, God,” I blurt when he sucks hard on one of my nipples, making my knees buckle. “Oh, Jesus Christ, this is gonna be good.”

  Ben’s jeans come off. And then his briefs. And I literally gasp at the sight of his beautiful body. His glorious erection. He’s sheer perfection. He’s sexy beyond words.

  “Ben,” I breathe. But that’s all I’ve got. I’m too overwhelmed with arousal to say more.

  Wordlessly, Ben slides his large palms on either side my rib cage and begins kissing his way down my torso. When he reaches my belly ring, he slides the fingers of one hand between my legs and strokes me gently as he kisses me, his touch coaxing me to bloom for him . . . and I moan as my insides dampen and clench and prepare to open wide and release.

  As Ben’s fingers continue gently taunting my sex, his lips reach my clit and hover. His hot breath tickles me. Announces him. Finally, he kisses my clit gently, ever so gently—reverently, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My knees buckle. My skin erupts with excited goose bumps.

  Ben tried to give me oral in that sleeping bag seven years ago, but it was a lost cause. The sleeping bag was too small and confining to accommodate him positioning his large body between my legs. And opening the sleeping bag to give him a wide enough berth to do the job was out of the question—it was just too damned cold that night to fool around uncovered. And so, I walked away from Ben seven years ago without having experienced the thrill of Ben’s lips on my clit. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dreaming about experiencing that particular sensation ever since.

  “I’ve been thinking about getting to taste you for seven years,” Ben says softly. He nuzzles his nose against my clit, sending shockwaves zapping between my legs. He kisses my folds gently, teasing me. Preparing me. Making me yearn. He licks at my folds. And all the while his fingers are gently teasing, coaxing, wooing—but not penetrating. Finally, without warning, he sinks several fingers inside me and swirls his warm, wet tongue against my clit, and instantly, an orgasm overtakes me.

  I moan and clutch Ben’s head to steady myself.

  “Ben,” I whisper. “Oh, God.”

  But he’s just getting started. He begins fingering me in earnest while eating me out with near-religious zeal, and my body jolts and bucks and surges against his fingers and tongue. Oh, lord. I fist his chestnut hair, not trusting my traitorous legs to hold me up through Ben’s delicious assault. He’s a man possessed. He leans my back against the door and props my left thigh onto his muscled shoulder, opening me to him, and I tilt my pelvis into his hungry mouth in reply. He shifts his fingers inside me and begins dragging his fingers across my G-spot with increased fervor. All the while, his tongue is swirling and licking me to heaven. I growl with pleasure. Shudder and buck. Until, soon, my pleasure is so acute, I feel almost tortured by it. I claw at Ben’s bare shoulders, gasping, mewing, gripping his hair feverishly, desperate for release . . . and, finally, blessedly, come, yet agai
n, with a loud and guttural moan.

  The instant my orgasm ends, I want Ben inside me more than I want to breathe. And that’s exactly what I tell him.

  “Bedroom,” he commands, rising to standing, his dick beaded with arousal.

  “Through there,” I gasp out, indicating.

  Ben’s dark eyes burning and his lips slick and shiny, he grabs his jeans off the floor, fishes a condom packet from his pocket, and gets his impressive length covered—and then grabs my hand and practically drags me toward my bedroom.

  Once in my bedroom, I crawl onto my bed and flip onto my back and open my legs wide, inviting him in no uncertain terms to have his way with me, but he flips me over roughly, making me squeal, and guides me to my hands and knees like I’m nothing but his plaything. And I love it. Of course, I’m expecting him to plunge his covered erection inside me and give me a fuck to remember, but that’s not what he does. Instead, he shocks the hell out of me by eating me out from behind. No, not eating me. Consuming me in a way I’ve never experienced before. He sucks on my clit and folds and laps and nibbles at my delicate flesh, all the while fucking me with what’s got to be at least three fingers. Holy shit, this isn’t the boy who lost his virginity to me seven years ago. This is a man who knows exactly how to command my body without being told what to do.

  I’m on the verge, again. Which would be a first, even for a girl like me. Three orgasms? Impossible. But, yes, I can feel another one gathering strength inside me. I begin rocking back and forth on my hands and knees, moaning loudly, trying desperately to withstand the overload of pleasure I’m experiencing. Howling, I beg him not to stop. Tell him I’m close. Praise him like he’s God himself. Finally, he does something back there—something where he’s got his fingers inside me and pressed against my clit and inside my ass, all at once—and I can’t hold on any longer. In a sudden explosion of pleasure that literally takes my breath away, I come so hard my entire body convulses and collapses onto the bed like I’ve been electrocuted.

  As my womb slams up and down and my nerve endings surge and explode, Ben lifts my pelvis, grips my hips forcefully, and plunges his covered length inside me from behind—all the freaking way.