Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

“Aaah!” One thrust, two. I was so ready from all of the teasing that the sweet friction of his pubic hair against my clit was enough to send me screaming over the edge. I blinked, stunned, as the waves rolled on and on. The sweetness continued to thicken the air, heavier and heavier as he began to thrust fast and hard, as out of control as I had become. The tensing of his muscles, the guttural groan, and the scent of salt and semen came before I was even done shaking, wallowing in the pleasure of my very first non-solo induced orgasm.

  The last wave came, almost as big as the first, and when it crashed I let myself just be— no thoughts, no self-lectures, nothing.

  As the wave rolled, then released the tiniest yet sweetest of aftershocks, I felt more at peace than I ever had in my life. More at peace, and more connected with Adam than I had with anyone ever before.

  My… well, essence, for lack of a better word— my very being— had clicked into place with his, as if we’d both been waiting forever just to find each other. My last thought before I began to float in that haze that was post-orgasmic bliss was only a prayer, short and sweet, that I wouldn’t regret it in the morning.

  ***

  “Is this… normal? I mean, for you?” Halfway to slumber, it took me a moment to understand what it was that Adam was referring to. Clarity came soon enough, though, since the same question had been on my mind since the last sweet trembles of orgasm had begun to fade.

  What had just happened between us had been like nothing I had ever experienced or even heard of before. Like the crashing roll of an incoming summer storm, there had been little warning, and I was caught in the rain.

  Still, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to admit that to him. Wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted to hear, even though he was the one asking the question. Hell, I didn’t even know if it was what I wanted to feel, especially since I knew that he belonged to someone else, so I sleepily shook my head, which answered the question for all intents and purposes.

  Then I distracted him, the best way that I knew how. It wasn’t a completely altruistic gesture… I wanted more, more, more of the sensations that I had felt before. More orgasms. Greedy?… maybe, but I felt that I had earned them, simply because I hadn’t had any before. Nope, I had never before in my life had an orgasm with a man, and like a child introduced to candy after years of nothing but vegetables I intended to gorge, even if it made me sick.

  I was pretty sure that it would. But I didn’t want to think about that now. I’d sinned already, and though it maybe wasn’t the choice that others would have made, I intended to enjoy myself fully before being sent straight to hell. Rolling to my side, brushing the sex snarled tangles of my long oaky hair from my face, I fitted my lips over his and pressed, once, then twice. A flicker of my tongue had his hand rising to clasp me at the waist, and when I swung a leg over to twine in between his, he groaned, pulled me tighter against the delicious length of his body, and rocked his hips forward, against my naked flesh.

  I felt the jut of his ever growing excitement against the soft curve of my hip, and the answering rush of cream that flowed down to coat my well used cunt.

  I moaned softly when, with a soft sigh, he pulled back. Pulled away. My momentary confusion, edged with an uncalled for slice of painful regret, dissipated into air that still smelled like sex as he took my hands, bringing me with him as he slid that glorious ass off of the bed.

  “Hmm?” Still too sleepy to formulate a full sentence, but awake enough to fully appreciate what the sight of his nude form was doing to the rising level of lust in my blood, I followed him to the tiny en suite bathroom. Our naked bodies brushed up against each other in interesting ways as we crowded into the minuscule room, and when he bent to place the beige rubber stopper in the tub, to turn a full twist of hot and a half of cold on to pour into the basin, his heated skin, dusted with golden hairs, tickled at the insides of my thighs.

  I could see his wicked grin in the mirror when he heard the gasp that I made at that soft, inadvertent touch. Standing as the rising steam gathered and clung to the dull navy paint of the walls, he rocked back against me, grinding his ass into my now dripping cunt, and I answered the invitation by running my tongue down the nape of his neck, as high as I could reach, and pulling his hips back snugly, until they were cradled by my own. We stayed that way for a moment, each breathing heavily, absorbing the impact of skin on skin, until he bent again, having noticed that the water was rising up dangerously high against the porcelain walls of the tub.

  Turning off the water that was gushing, all but a thin, hot trickle, Adam stepped in. Lifting his eyebrows, he gestured for me to join him. I did as he asked, gingerly placing my feet in the too hot water as he settled himself in a sitting position.

  He reached up to where I still stood, laid his palms flat on the outsides of my thighs. With tiny circling motions administered with his thumbs, he swirled a trail higher and higher still, tickling the crease that divided my legs from my belly, soft skin from coarse curls.

  I was inclined to just throw my head back, to let him do whatever he wanted again. But I was still a bit disconcerted by how thoroughly I had given myself over to his care earlier. I’d never thought that I had control issues, but a part of me was antsy at how completely I’d been under his spell.

  This time, I thought, I would do the work. I would call the shots.

  I would be in control.

  Grasping the bar of milky soap, I wet it and tentatively began to rub it over my breasts, stepping back just far enough that he could no longer keep his fingers on my thighs. Soon the swells of my plump mounds were slick and shiny with soap, my nipples poking out through the suds and looking for all the world like cherries on frosted cupcakes. My fingers itched as I explored inquisitively, rubbing the musky smelling soap into my skin.

  Watching him watch me, I felt an unexplained shyness creep over, a million tiny spider legs on my skin, and I dropped my hands to my sides.

  “No.” His voice was harsh, rasping out from between lips that looked suddenly dry. “No. Keep going.”

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly brought the soap back to my torso, rubbing it in circles. I soaped lower, massaging my stomach, and then lower, until the bubbles began to cling to the tendrils of curly brown that covered my throbbing triangle.

  Unable to hold back any longer, Adam got to his knees, ran a soap bubble covered hand up the inside of my thigh, and rammed three of his long fingers into my sopping wet cleft.

  “Aah.” I exhaled, rocking my pelvis against his hand as he jammed his fingers in, again and again. “Adam.”

  “Do you want more?” He continued to finger me as ruthlessly as he dared without knocking me off my feet in the slippery tub. I nodded, hips now thrusting, copulating with something not yet there.

  He pulled me down into the tub with him and wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding his hips upward into mine but not permitting himself entrance just yet. As I squiggled, frustrated, on his lap I felt the length of his cock twitch, impatient to be on with things. I was startled when, after sheathing himself in a condom, he reached a long, golden haired arm over my shoulder, grasping at a swatch of black cloth that I hadn’t seen him bring into the bathroom with us. It was my thong, the one that had earlier covered my eyes while he teased my inflamed skin. Dragging it into the bath, he insinuated his hands between our bodies and tied it loosely around his rearing penis, a makeshift cock ring. Taking my hands as I gazed transfixed at the incredibly sexy sight of his hands touching the veined length of his cock, he helped me to tighten it around his erection.

  “What’s that for?” My fingers played along the length of him, exploring the smooth skin and vein filled areas as if committing them to memory.

  “Hopefully it’ll help me last a little longer, this time.” With that he shifted me so that, one moment his fat juicy head was simply prodding at my velvety folds, the next impaling me until I could have sworn that he was knocking against my womb. Using his hands to help me into the rhythm, we were soon rocki
ng back and forth in a frenzy, water flying out of the bath as my hips began to move at lightning speed. He buried his face in my breasts, willing himself out loud to hold off, just a moment more, when the tight ring of my vaginal muscles began to bunch and release around him as I cried out, and he permitted himself to pour into me, emitting an earth shattering groan as he did.

  I realized as we both fell from the heavens back down to earth that there was now more water on the yellowing tile of the floor than there was in the tub. The sloppy sight made me giggle, and Adam began to laugh along with me, one of those laughs that fed into my own. Soon we were howling with a hysteria that was unaccounted for, but it was a release that felt almost as good as the one that we’d just experienced. It made me forget the few remaining traces of hesitation that the amazing, mind emptying fuck hadn’t been able to, and I found myself grinning like a fool as we slipped and slid our way out of the bath, trying hard not to lose footing on the soaking floor.

  As I scrubbed my skin dry with the holey green towel that he’d given me, I studied a framed photo that he had hung up behind the toilet. An odd place to hang a picture, I thought, but I supposed that if he had to stand to pee, he might as well look at something as he did. Moving out of range of the playful smack of his palm on my ass as I bent over to study the picture, I leaned in closer. The dull bronze frame housed a stiffly posed family portrait, one where everyone looks uncomfortable and is wearing matching sweaters.

  I touched a damp finger to the glass. It left a smudge.

  “Is this your family?” It had to be. The older man and woman in the picture looked like split parts of Adam, and the other man standing next to him looked enough like him, they could almost me twins.

  “Yep.” Leaning over top of me, Adam scrubbed his own ratty towel through his now damp hair. “Mom, Dad, and that’s my older brother Josh.” He rubbed his cock against the revealed cheeks of my ass, and I felt, incredibly, my blood begin to heat again, though the picture continued to hold my attention.

  “You and your brother look a lot alike.” I’m not sure how or when it hit me, exactly— it was more a slow, awkward dawning, a realization that something didn’t quite fit. Or that it fit all too well, depending on how you looked at it.

  “Yeah, we get mistaken for each other all the time.” Dropping his towel into a sodden heap on the floor, Adam left me alone in the tiny room after tugging on my arm gently, encouraging me to join him back in the bedroom.

  That was when the thoughts all came crashing down, the overburdened shelf emptying its contents onto my head.

  Adam had a brother named Josh that looked just like him. Josh. Joshua Brentine. The man that I had thought I’d thrown myself at the night before, the one who was supposedly cheating on his girlfriend.

  The one that I thought I had just fucked, several times.

  Oh, shit.

  ***

  As I’d suspected, Erica was not pleased.

  After the disastrous evening at the bar, the one in which I’d failed to get Adam, who I had at the time thought was Joshua, to go home with me, I’d submitted my report on the Hush Dolls Inc. website, the one stating that the subject had in fact refused all advances. The one that would have been forwarded directly to Cady Conly, Joshua Brentine’s girlfriend. Cady had undoubtedly breathed the hugest sigh of relief that she could squeeze out of her lungs, thinking that her suspicions had been unfounded, that she and her man were going to ride off into the sunset, when that may not actually be the case.

  To have to contact Cady, to tell her that we’d messed up and arouse her worries all over again would not only reflect horribly on the company, but was just plain cruel.

  And it was all my fault.

  It didn’t stop me from meeting Adam the next night, though, awful as I felt. The connection from the night before, the spark that we had shared, had lured me too far in to turn back. I rationalized it by telling myself that seeing Adam wouldn’t ease Cady’s situation at all, but really, I was just being selfish.

  Having had my first decadent taste, I was desperate to go back for more.

  So I did my best to erase my unease from my mind as I approached the restaurant that Adam had suggested we meet at— eager as I was to see him again, allowing him to pick me up at my apartment smacked of a commitment that was uncomfortably intimating. The sight of the small venue, one I’d driven by before but never entered, helped to drown the little pinch in my brain that said that Adam was likely to put two and two together once he found out what I did for a living.

  It was small, but with a long, narrow lane of larch trees covered in colorful, twinkling fairy lights. Classy yet not ostentatious, it wove an aura of charm, mystique and intimacy, and a shiver ran down my spine as I wondered what Adam had planned for the evening.

  He’d promised me a present, if I wanted to take it, but gave me no clue as to what my gift would be.

  Inside the tiny restaurant, which was little more than a large room, really, was just as unpretentious. Red and white checkered cloths covered the tables, white tapers dripped wax onto empty Chianti bottles. Garlic and something reminiscent of coffee and chocolate scented the air. Lights were dim.

  I had arrived right on time, but I immediately spotted Adam at a cozy table for two, facing the door. He waved, and, after allowing the host to slip my sweater from my shoulders, I wound my way through the intimate maze of tables and chairs.

  “Wow.” That glacial pale of Adam’s eyes darkened to cornflower as he let his sight roam over my body, top to toe. I wasn’t overly dressed up, for the town we lived in was casual and located in the mountains— a hub for the rugged and athletic. Overdressing would make me stick out like a sore thumb, which wasn’t what I wanted for the evening, though it did come in quite handy when I was working. So I’d struggled to strike a chord midway between the skintight red that I’d worn during our first meeting, and my overly lived in jeans of the night before.

  His smile, a slow, wicked curve of his full lips, told me that he approved.

  When I neared the table, he stood. Held out a hand. Pulled me to the chair next to him, though it was not the place that had been set.

  “I’m glad you came.” The look in his eyes as he spoke made my mouth suddenly go dry, and I hoped that I didn’t see what I thought I did there— an interest that went beyond the physical. But I was distracted easily enough from the thought by the touch of his hand on my bare knee, hidden under the table by the checkered cloth. The light but insistent rubbing, tickling the same inch of skin over and over throughout the meal, nearly drove me wild.

  The restaurant was nice. Dinner was nice. We shared salad and spaghetti and toasted bread, and then a dish of something deliciously creamy called zabaglione. Adam had been right, it was some of the best Italian food that I’d ever tasted. But the touch of his skin on mine under the table certainly held my attention away from anything but the thought of what we would do when we’d finished eating.

  When we left to be alone.

  He told me about my present over coffee, a rich, deep coffee laced with a syrupy liqueur and topped with delicious sugary cream.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  This wasn’t a surprise; his hand on my thigh made that apparent. But the words that he continued with certainly were.

  “I want to fulfill one of your fantasies. Anything that you want. Anything that you can dream.” A jolt went through me, shaking my hand. A splash of sweet, warm coffee spilled over the edge of my cup, dripped down my hand, as the myriad of possibilities, the utter freedom that his words wrought, rioted through my mind.

  “Hannah?” Taking my hand in his, Adam pressed his lips to the skin where the coffee had spilled. Under the guise of a chaste kiss on the palm, his tongue flicked out to clean the syrupy sweetness away.

  I wished that my tongue would unglue itself from the top of my mouth. Despite my best intentions to keep myself in check, this gesture of his touched me deeply, warmed my core, even as I felt a warm flood between my thi
ghs.

  I shivered.

  “I…” I wasn’t sure how to respond. His words aroused my body beyond belief, just as the fact that I could see in his face how badly he wanted to do this for me made my heart thud unsteadily. I was out of control of the situation, something I tried very hard to never be, and had no idea where to go next.

  Oddly enough, I wasn’t frightened. The panic that usually swelled my cells when something that I couldn’t quite hold in both hands occurred was curiously absent, which was a puzzlement that I wanted to dissect then and there, almost as much as I wanted to sink to my knees, slip beneath the table, and take Adam’s cock in my mouth.

  I didn’t have the chance to do either. Adam’s voice wove over me, weaving a spell through the candlelight, the wine, the sweet liqueur.

  “Do you want to have sex here? Here on the table?”

  I paused a moment, then mutely shook my head.

  “What about in the parking lot? I could place you naked on the hood of my car and take you there, and everyone in here would go outside and watch. Would you like that?”

  Again, I shook my head. No, both thoughts excited me, but they weren’t fantasies of mine. I’d been given permission with Adam’s words to explore one of my dark, delicious dreams, and though I was loathe to share one of those most private thoughts, I’d greedily latched on to the idea and would settle for nothing less than something that thrilled me to the soul.

  That didn’t make it any easier for me to spit the words out, to tell him what it was that I wanted. Sensing that, Adam continued to speak in his low, hypnotic way. For something to focus on as he spoke, since my eyes were blurring, I stared over his shoulder at a man that sat alone, facing me, at a table a few places down from the one that we occupied.

  Adam followed my gaze.

  “What about him? Do you want to fuck him?”

  I shook my head furiously, too much, too soon.

  Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

  “I think you do.” His fingers tightened in mine, and he dipped his head closer, nuzzling at my cheek. “Have you ever been with two people at once?”