Alpha King by Sara Fields

Chapter 2

Ava

A week later

My life had turned into a nightmare, one that was constantly plagued with long bouts of insomnia and terrible dreams.

I don’t remember the last time I’d gotten a full night’s sleep. It had been weeks. Maybe even months because every time I lay down and closed my eyes, I saw my father’s last moments play out in my mind, over and over again for the world to see until the end of time.

Forever captured on video.

Forever a murderer.

My family would carry the stigma of it forever.

The gunshots echoed in my head, and I groaned with annoyance, pressing my face into the white cotton pillow beneath it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of anything but the crazed look in his eyes as that fateful scene ran across my mind for the nine billionth time.

But it wouldn’t stop.

It never stopped.

Ever.

It had been a massacre. My father had walked into Café Du Monde, where tourists and locals alike were enjoying a coffee in the late morning with the powdery sugar-loaded beignets that they were so famous for and pulled out a submachine gun.

The person who had captured it all on film had been a traveling college student from England, a young man who’d been inordinately excited about trying the sugary pastries he’d seen on several videos on YouTube. He’d brought his high school sweetheart to New Orleans with them, and he’d planned to propose that night at a fancy dinner at a steakhouse in the French Quarter.

I could still hear his voice like he was sitting there in the room with me, asking his girl if she wanted a coffee with her beignets. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement of visiting America for the first time. She’d nodded with enthusiasm, looking forward to her breakfast just as much as he was.

I’d never forget the way her smile faltered as she looked over his shoulder, the camera still facing her and the way her mouth suddenly twisted in raw fear. Everything went insane after that. The video flew back and forth as they rushed to hide beneath the table, taking cover on the floor amidst the powdered sugar and dirt beneath them.

The camera had panned back, and the shooting had started. In fear, the young man had dropped his equipment, but not before it captured the face of my father on film.

There’d been no doubt that it was him. None.

They called it a mental break of some kind, that he’d been fine one day and had just snapped the next, but that wasn’t enough for me. The people who had made that diagnosis had never even met him. They hadn’t known anything about him aside from the files that had been prepared about him.

I’d seen them.

They’d all been a lie. Every word.

Right up to the moment that a group of men had surrounded him and broken his neck in the middle of the busiest café in the French Quarter.

The file had said they were cops, but I knew better. I knew what they were.

They were vampires.

I knew because my father had told me about them.

I knew the man behind the monster the media had painted him to be.

My dad had been sweet and caring. Years ago, he’d been a respected professor at the University of Louisiana. He’d taught mechanical engineering for years, but he’d stepped away from that in order to take a position as a consultant for a small company before he branched out on his own. Taking control of his career had been far more lucrative, yet it brought a certain set of dangers along with it.

His clients were dangerous, sometimes crime families, sometimes monsters, sometimes both. Some of them were shifters. Others were vampires. There were more, but he didn’t tell me about them all. He’d taught me to protect myself against them nonetheless, ever since I was a little girl. I grew up knowing that much of the world was run by the hands of monsters. I’d done my best to avoid them all my life, but then it had turned personal when they’d somehow turned my father into the villain that shot up Café Du Monde.

My father had never been a killer. I was convinced there was something more behind his death. I was sure of it.

Before he was killed, he’d started meeting with a new batch of clients. I’d known only the bare minimum in that they were members of the Venuti Clan, but he hadn’t told me what for or why, but I did know he’d taken a job with monsters and ended up dead.

I couldn’t accept what they said on the news. My father hadn’t been mentally ill. He hadn’t lost his sanity. He hadn’t decided to end it all.

No. I would never accept any of that. I couldn’t. I know he didn’t just snap. I needed to know who did that to him.

I needed to clear my family’s name.

What if the reason he broke was vampires? What if it had been the Venuti that had compelled him to act that way? What if they’d taken away his will and forced him to murder helpless innocents? I needed to know the reason.

I’d sacrifice everything to find those answers.

Honestly, I didn’t care if I wound up dead. I needed to know.

All I knew was that it had something to do with my father’s sunfire bullets.

He’d explained the science of them to me once. They had a solid magnesium ribbon inside the core. Once the gun was fired, it exposed the magnesium to oxygen and boom. An explosion of light and heat that could rival sunlight. The perfect weapon for killing vampires.

It was a secret he’d shared with me just days before he died. He’d taught me how to make them because he wanted to keep me safe.

With a sigh, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I was lucky if I slept more than three hours since I’d gone to bed somewhere around midnight. The full moon shone through the maple leaves of the tree outside my window, sending my room into a flickering showcase of light and shadow. It was really quite pretty, and on a normal night I might have enjoyed it.

But… something was different. Something felt off.

The hair on the back of my neck rose and I felt the sudden sensation that I was no longer alone in my own room. Someone was here in my room with me.

I’d learned to trust my gut a long time ago and this time would be no different.

With a nervous swallow, I pushed my hands against the bed so I could sit against my headboard. As my upper back pressed against the padded leather surface, my gaze passed around the room to the soft recliner I had beside the window. I had initially set it up as my own personal reading nook, but the gray fabric chair was currently occupied by a very large man in a very nice suit. The light of the moon was just enough to illuminate him in shadow, but I could see enough of him to know that I’d come across him somewhere before.

I tried to rack my brain for any reason why and how a man like him would be sitting here in my room.

In a perfect world, he would be a male model. His hair was dark gold, a perfect mix of mahogany and golden threads, a beautiful color that reminded me of a sandy beach after a sudden rainstorm. It was full and thick, and long enough for me to run my fingers through and grab just enough to pull his head back by it. His jawline was covered by a thick beard that was neat and trim and the sudden urge to feel the scrape of it against my skin passed through me.

I swallowed hard, annoyed at myself for thinking something like that.

It was obvious that he was well off. I wasn’t certain of the maker of his suit in the dark, but it was either Saint Laurent or Valentino by the look of it. It was very fine black material with a hint of dark gray shimmer that happened to catch the moonlight perfectly. A pristinely white button-up shirt was beneath it. His tie was perfectly done, the fabric covered in a silvery gray rectangular pattern that shone like silk, which it probably was. His matching slacks were flawlessly pressed, and his black leather shoes looked like they had been recently buffed and shined.

Everything about him spoke of money, but more than that, it spoke to his power.

His gaze bored into mine, sparkling with a certain amusement and an even harder edge hinting at a deeper darkness that should have scared me. His irises were hazel, a captivating mixture of emerald and browns and yellows. The colors only seemed to intensify under the light of the moon and as the branches shifted outside my window, they began to change. In the shadows, they appeared to be greener, and, in the light, the yellow hue burned bright enough to shine like gold.

He was a wolf shifter.

He’d been the one to break open my cage in the Venuti tower. He’d been the one who had given me back my freedom and now he was sitting here in my room.

I knew enough about him from that night to know that he was dangerous. I’d need to protect myself from whatever this was.

I lifted my chin, pressing my lips firmly together and tensing hard. I didn’t look, but I prepared myself to grab the silver knife on my bedside table. I always kept it there beside a wooden stake just in case of times like this.

“Ava Winters,” he breathed, and I stiffened.

He knew my name…

“I know all about your recent adventures, little human. I’m here to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer. If you cooperate, I will leave you here in peace. If not, I’m going to have to punish you for your disobedience,” he purred, and I decided I didn’t like the way goosebumps were rising all over my arms just at the sound of his voice. I pressed my thighs together anxiously and prepared myself to fight.

As if they offered some kind of protection, I pulled the covers up to my chest, using the thick quilts to cover the hard buds of my nipples that were probably mortifyingly obvious beneath the thin fabric of my cotton nightgown. One of the straps slid down my arm and I rushed to put it back into place, oddly bothered by the fact that he could see the bareness of my shoulder.

I felt my face heat with embarrassment.

It was just my luck that he’d catch me in this nightgown. The straps never seemed to stay up, no matter if I tightened them or not. I’d been meaning to get something new for forever, but I’d never gotten around to it.

I was going to throw it out tomorrow for sure.

“I want to know about the weapon you used against the vampires. The gun appeared to be factory standard, but the bullets you used certainly weren’t,” he said.

I gritted my teeth and decided that it was time to act.

Without even a second of hesitation, I reached for my bedside table while keeping my eyes trained on him. My fingers brushed against the wooden surface, and I froze. Nothing. A flicker of panic raced through me, and I looked quickly, finding both the knife and the stake gone.

Shit.

Immediately, I turned back to him as he cleared his throat.

“Is this what you were reaching for?” he asked expectantly, and my gaze tore to his fingers. He was holding the knife by the handle, very carefully avoiding the silver blade with his grasp. I snarled and threw the covers off me, racing toward my bedroom door. My bare feet dug into the carpet, but as quickly as I moved, I knew he would be faster.

I gave it all I had anyway. The work my father had done was dangerous, so he had ensured that I’d had access to all the trainers I could ever need. I’d studied with some of the most renowned teachers, learning all aspects of various fighting techniques throughout the world. You name it, I studied it. If he caught me, I would use everything I’d ever learned to make sure he let me go and I got away.

I only just made it to the entryway of my bedroom before his arms circled around my waist. I screeched and grasped at the doorframe, trying to use brute force to break his hold on me.

It didn’t work.

As if I weighed no more than a bag of feathers, he tossed me on the bed. I tried to push myself back up, lurching toward the door once more. He was too fast for that. It was as if he was ready for every move I made.

In a flurry of movement, he pushed me ruthlessly hard down on the bed on my back with just the force of his hand. Unexpectedly, he climbed over top of me and sat astride me with his knees on either side of my waist. I tried to bring my knee up behind him, but he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“I had hoped you’d make this difficult,” he murmured. Immediately, I tried to pry my way out from under him. This was fight or flight and right now, I just wanted to escape.

“Let me go,” I demanded. I pounded my fists against his chest, and he brushed my hands aside like I was nothing more than a fly.

“I told you how this was going to go, Ava.”

I pushed against the firmness of his chest, trying to squirm out from underneath him. His muscles rippled underneath my palms, giving away just how hard he was beneath his shirt. Without delay, he pushed my hands once more to the side as if they weren’t there at all and then unbuttoned the top of his suit jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed it to the side. As the shadows flickered across his chest, I could see almost every ridge of muscle through the pressed white cotton of his button-up shirt, the broad set of his shoulders, the toned lines of his stomach, and the rippling bulge of his pecs.

It was at that moment that I became aware of something else.

My pussy was wet.

And not just a little.

A whole lot.

To this date, I’d never been bested by anyone, human or monster. I’d always been able to fight my way out of anything. Hell, I’d fought my way out of the Venuti tower and killed at least a dozen vampires along the way.

This man had singlehandedly manhandled me into a position that I couldn’t figure out a way to get out of and that was so terrifying that my body was reacting of its own accord. Much to my irritation, my clit pulsed with arousal at the thought.

What the hell was wrong with me?

He stared down at me, his eyes dark with cruel intention.

“Such a tiny human, but so much fire,” he breathed. He reached for me, and I flinched as he brushed a lock of hair off my forehead back behind my ear. He chuckled at my reaction, dragging his fingertips across my cheek and down along my jawline. Then he pressed a single finger firmly down the line of my throat. He followed the ridge of my collarbone until he reached the thick strap of my nightgown and slipped his fingers just underneath it.

His touch was hot against my skin, practically setting me aflame, and I hated it. I pressed my thighs firmly together as he studied me underneath him, trying to use sheer will to push away the rising arousal that seemed to be running rampant from somewhere deep inside me.

It didn’t work and I detested that he appeared to notice my discomfort.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this very much,” he murmured, his words carrying a dark undertone that sent a shiver racing down my spine at the same time that my pussy felt like it was catching fire.

He took hold of the strap more firmly now. With no warning, he tore it clean off as if he was simply ripping a piece of paper. Systematically, he did the same to the other side. With one hand, he captured my wrists and I tried to pull away, but he was so much stronger than me and with barely any effort on his part, he reached over my head and tied my right arm to the bedpost. With measured swiftness, he did the same to the other side and when he was done, he paused and stared down into my eyes.

As if he was letting my captivity really sink in.

He was the predator, and I was his prey. He was bigger, faster, stronger, and superior in every way.

I tested the bonds gingerly at first and they held fast. I tried harder and I still couldn’t get free. I twisted and turned my hands, pulling against them as firmly as I could.

I couldn’t get out. I was his prisoner, his captive to do with as he wished.

This was bad.

He reached for me again, but this time his fingertips grazed along the sweetheart neckline of my nightgown. I gasped in fear, but it came out sounding more wanton than I wanted it to. The edges of his mouth perked up in a smirk and then it was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“You’re not wearing a bra, Ava. Do you know how I know that?” he asked, and I gritted my teeth.

“Fuck off,” I spat. He wasn’t going to get me to admit anything, especially when it concerned my very aroused and traitorous body. I’d hide that no matter what.

“It’s such a simple design. Thin cotton decorated with light pink embroidery, but it does nothing to hide how very hard your nipples are beneath the fabric. If the lights were on, I bet it would be sheer enough so that I could see the outline of your areolas, wouldn’t I?”

I didn’t answer him because he was right.

The fabric was more than a little worn through from the wash. Why couldn’t I have worn something else tonight?

But it turned out that I didn’t have to say anything at all because he grasped the neckline of my nightgown and tore it right open, baring my breasts in less time than it took me to draw in another breath.

“You bastard!” I screeched.

“I’ll tell you a secret, little human. Even in the dim light of the moon, I can still see them. My eyesight is especially good, even more so in the dark. One of the perks of being a wolf,” he said.

“Fuck. You,” I answered and I spat right in his face. For a moment, he stilled, and I watched my spittle drip down his cheek. I expected anger, but his gaze remained steady and calm.

“Bad girl. You’re going to pay for that.”

With ruthless intention, he grasped my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. For a second, he just held them in his clutches before he pinched them hard. If I had expected gentleness or mercy of any kind, I would have been sorely disappointed.

A cry of pain escaped my lips before I could stop it.

A vicious flare of agony blossomed from the tips of my nipples, radiating downward and spreading with electrifying intensity until it centered in the depths of my core. He twisted them hard, and I keened with fright, embroiled in wave after wave of punishing pain that left me feeling helpless and afraid and undoubtedly angry.

He squeezed harder and I started to panic before he finally released them. The wave of agony that followed was almost as intense as it was initially, but it eventually ebbed away to a gentler aching throb long after he let them go.

I trembled beneath him, feeling real fear for the first time.

For a long time, he stared down at my breasts. The pads of his fingers grazed over top of my sore nipples, reawakening the hurt he’d forced upon them. I didn’t say anything more, too shell-shocked to do anything but lie there trapped beneath him.

He leaned forward, just grazing his lips against my ear. I gasped as his breath tickled the tiny hairs along my skin and I desperately tried to ignore how it was causing little bolts of electricity to trickle down so far that my clit started with pulse with it.

I wanted my body to stop reacting to him. I didn’t want to enjoy his threats or the way his touch was making me tremble with shameful need. I didn’t want any of it.

“I want you to think about something, Ava,” he whispered, and the rumble of his words made me clutch my thighs together as if that could protect me from whatever was to come.

At least I was wearing panties. I thanked God that I had decided to put on a pair tonight.

I didn’t respond because I was afraid my voice would give away everything that was running through my head.

“I want you to think about the fact that you’ll be telling me everything I want to know one way or another, but I’m very much looking forward to punishing you for your refusal to do so in the first place. You should know that in the end you’re going to beg to be allowed to tell me what I want to know and then, just maybe, I’ll finish your punishment in the way it would please me the most before I finally give you permission to tell me what I want to know,” he whispered in my ear, his words tickling me in a way that made my pussy clench with burning need.

I shouldn’t want to fuck him.

I should want to kill him. I should want to use my silver knife to stab him right in the fucking heart.

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” I snarled.

I could feel his lips curling up in a smile against my ear. He was enjoying my defiance and I didn’t know if that bode well for me. For all I knew, it was just making things worse.

But he was a monster. He was a thing I could never trust.

“Do you think you’re in control, little human?” he asked, and I jerked my wrists in an effort to break my bonds once more. He chuckled and an ice-cold chill hurtled through my veins, sinking right down into the marrow of my bones.

“Who are you?” I spat.

“My name is Lawson Clearwater. I’m the alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack,” he answered.

I froze.

Everything started to make way more sense. He was the kingpin of the Crescent Moon Pack, the alpha. He headed the biggest wolf family here in New Orleans, which was really only opposed by the Venuti vampire clan. Very few people knew of their existence because they liked it that way, but they were far more powerful than any human mafia families here in the city. If either the Crescent Moon Pack or the Venuti Clan decided to eliminate the Gambinos or the Genovese family that reigned down here too, they could do it in less than twenty-four hours.

“Have you ever tried to fight off an alpha before, little human?” he purred.

I shook my head, glaring at him as he drew back just enough to stare into my eyes. His irises sparkled like yellow diamonds. The emerald had lightened to something of a peridot color, hidden behind the golden yellow that gave away his real identity. His gaze was like looking into stained glass, but with far more power behind it. I found myself getting lost inside his eyes before I forced myself to turn away.

“Let me go, you mangy bastard,” I growled, and he laughed openly before he leaned down low enough to brush his lips against my nipples.

“Get off! What are you doing?” I yelled.

“Such a bad, bad girl. It’s time you began to understand what a punishment by my hands means,” he murmured.

There was no time to prepare for what came next. I couldn’t have, even if I’d tried and not even if he warned me with what he was about to do.

He pulled back his lips with a snarl and used his teeth to capture my right nipple. He bit down hard, and I shrieked as the pain from before rushed back and escalated to something far beyond just the pinching of his fingers.

My nipple felt scalded by his harshness, and I tried to breathe through it, but his teeth pressed more firmly around it and I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.

The agony intensified, building higher and higher until it radiated across my entire breast, sinking deep into my body with every passing wave of it. I tried to pull away, but that only made it hurt more, made the pain run deeper. Instead, I arched my back and tried to press into his bite, but he pulled away with my nipple still firmly locked in between his teeth.

“Please! Please!” I cried out. The words flew from my lips before I could stop them. This hurt so very much, and I just wanted him to let go. I keened and closed my eyes, trying to stop myself from crying from just how much it hurt.

My nipples had always been especially sensitive.

Finally, he opened his lips and I fell back against the bed, blinking away the hot tears that were threatening to fall. My nipple throbbed hot, and I looked down, fearful that he had marked it, but there was nothing more than just an impression left behind from his teeth.

His mouth moved to the left side, and I panicked.

“Please! Don’t!” I begged. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and curled up, just licking the tip of my nipple with gentle promise.

“You don’t know me well enough yet, little girl, but you should know that it isn’t up to you. I will deal with you however I please. It will never matter how much you beg,” he warned.

He bit my left nipple after that. I don’t know if it was as hard or harder than the right side, but it felt worse maybe because I knew what was coming. I knew it was going to hurt, but experiencing it was something else altogether.

I thrashed beneath him, desperate to escape but it did nothing. He held my nipple between his teeth, tightening as hard as he wished until at long last, he released me.

I panted hard, trying to grapple with the pain as it gradually faded away. It throbbed with continual hurt, tiny aftershocks of soreness that refused to ebb long after he was through with punishing me there.

“I enjoy seeing my teeth marks on your pretty little nipples, but they aren’t pink enough for me yet. I’m going to have to make sure they’re spanked properly after I tear the rest of your nightgown off,” he threatened.

What?

He took advantage of my momentary confusion to shift backwards so that his body was situated just over my thighs. I still couldn’t move enough to buck him off of me, not that I could even hope to throw a man of his massive size.

He probably weighed twice what I did. At least.

He wasted no time in gripping the fabric of my nightgown and tearing right through it. It fell apart in his fingers as if it was nothing but a pile of threads, baring the rest of me in a matter of seconds.

I sucked in a nervous breath. The fabric scraped against my punished nipples as he pulled it away, and I whimpered softly as the ache from before intensified into a hard throb.

His palm cradled my left breast tenderly. I stilled, trying to study his face for any hint as to his plans. I saw nothing. Not even a hint of malice or anything else before the touch of his fingers faded away only to return with brutal force.

He smacked my breast, and I could only just watch as the marks from his fingers flared white and then bright pink, stark against the paleness of my skin. He did it again. And again.

I thrashed beneath him, trying to avoid his palm, yet still his aim was true every time. He spanked all over my breasts and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he held me in place and smacked my nipple directly. He focused on one side and then the other and just when I thought I would break and scream, he stopped and sucked in an appreciative breath.

“There now. Your pretty breasts are so beautiful when they’ve been spanked bright pink,” he mused.

He sat back and gazed over my bared body, admiring the handiwork of his mark on my skin. He stared at me for what felt like forever, letting his eyes linger on the fullness of my breasts and the gentle curve of my waist before it dipped even lower to study the light blue lace trim of my silky panties.

“You will ask me to remove your panties, Ava. Ask me to show you just how wet they already are,” he coaxed firmly, and I shook my head.

I couldn’t ask him to do that. I wouldn’t.

“No,” I scoffed. “I’d never ask that of the likes of you.”

I couldn’t live with myself if I did.

“Do you think you can hide your arousal from me, little human?” he asked carefully.

“I’m not aroused,” I snapped. I’d never admit something like that, especially to him.

“Yes, you are, little one. Not only can I see your wetness seeping through the seat of your panties, but I can smell it. An alpha like me can sense it by the scent alone,” he murmured, and I gave one last-ditch effort to try to buck him off. I did it even though I knew I’d fail.

He laughed openly this time, and the effect was chilling.

His fingers grazed along the lacy hem of my panties, glancing just beneath it to brush against my skin. His touch was gentle at first, just gliding back and forth. It was strangely calming initially, pulling me into a gentle lull that maybe the worst was over for at least a little while.

That didn’t last very long.

He slipped his hand just far enough underneath my panties before he curled his fingers and grasped them firmly enough to hurt just the slightest bit. I jerked away as he pulled them tight enough to wedge the fabric between my wet and sensitive folds.

He held still for a moment, and I froze.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously, my voice beginning to shake and reveal just how anxious I was beneath him. I hated myself for not being able to hide that.

He said nothing and simply jerked my panties harder against me, capturing my clit beneath them. Then he relaxed his hold just a little before pulling them up against me once again. The fabric of my panties rubbed against my clit roughly as he repeated the motion over and over.

The cloth burned. At first it was painfully jarring, and I struggled to think of anything more I could do to get him to stop. I’d run out of options. There was no getting out of this.

For the first time in my life, I was completely helpless. This man, this perfect stranger, could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Any woman in her right mind would have been terrified.

But not me.

Apparently, that thought in particular just made me wetter and even more aroused than before and now the fabric of my panties was rubbing against my clit and forcing me to face things I didn’t want to.

Forcing me to recognize my arousal.

Forcing me to admit the truth.

I wanted to come. Badly. With the hands of an alpha on my bare flesh.

The fabric moved faster and the orgasm I wanted to push away so badly raged forth. I tried to think of anything to keep it at bay, but nothing worked. I thought about the fact that he was a wolf shifter, but that only seemed to escalate the rising heat between my thighs. He was a monster, a criminal, but right now he was so focused on forcing my release that nothing could stop my orgasm from breaking over me like a sudden storm.

His movements were so rough that my clit burned red hot. Even though it was painful, the arousal in my core only seemed to clench tighter. At some point, it started to become far more pleasurable than I expected, molding together with the pain and becoming something far stronger altogether.

His movements were so rough, so different than the gentle feeling of my own fingers between my thighs.

I’d never felt the touch of a man there before him. Ever.

Held captive, I drowned in the roughness of it. There was nothing gentle about the way he rubbed my clit with my panties. He forced my pleasure forth and before long, I felt like I was tiptoeing on the edge of a cliff about to fall off at any moment.

I moaned out loud for the first time.

“You’re going to come for me, little human. I’m not going to give you a choice,” he warned, and my nipples throbbed hot just as I arched into the growing sensation between my thighs.

“Please don’t!” I yelped. Even as I said the words, I was unsure if I actually wanted more, for him to be rougher, or if I really wanted him to stop.

Fuck.

It only got more intense after that.

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any rougher, he did. He rubbed my clit with ruthless obsession, forcing my orgasm whether I wanted it or not.

But I did.

I was going to come. Hard.

With my clit burning from the constantly rubbing cloth of my panties, I fell off that edge into the strongest orgasm I’d ever had in my life. My own fingers paled in comparison. Even my little egg-shaped bullet vibrator couldn’t hold a candle to this single forced orgasm at the hands of an alpha wolf.

With a pitiful cry, I arched upward just as my thighs began to tremble. I fell deep into the blissful chasm of mind-rending pleasure. I closed my eyes, the light of the moon becoming far too bright to behold, but that wasn’t all I was hiding from.

I didn’t want to see the look of victory in his eyes when he saw what I looked like when I came for him.

My orgasm went on longer than it ever had before. My core twisted tight, and my clit pulsed with scalding hot sensation. My pussy clenched down hard, my inner walls fluttering with need.

I felt so empty.

I wanted to feel him inside me.

I’d played with a dildo before all by myself in a dark room. I blushed at the vision of what it might have looked like when I fucked myself with that toy.

All of a sudden, I felt the need to take his cock deep inside me. I was so needy that I lost focus of everything else entirely.

My thighs continued to tremble as my release went on and just when it reached its peak, my eyes rolled back in my head.

My orgasms had always been quiet. I’d never been a screamer.

Until now.

Until him.

I lost control and I writhed, screaming my pleasure along with it. White fiery ecstasy pulsed through me and when it finally released me from its wondrous captivity, I was left panting and breathless and utterly exhausted.

Oh, fuck.

That felt good.

“You will ask me to take off your panties, little one,” he demanded.

Wait. What?

I blinked, still caught in the flowery haze of bliss of that orgasm. Even though my clit throbbed with both pain and pleasure, it wasn’t enough to make me ask for something so shameful.

I shook my head.

“No,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming.

His other hand worked between my thighs, dipping down to my entrance. Very slowly, he pressed two fingers inside me, carefully keeping the fabric of my panties snugly pinched between them.

I cried out, so caught off guard to suddenly feel his fingers inside my pussy. I hated that it felt so insanely good.

“This little pussy is so very tight. Tell me, am I the first man to touch it?”

I flushed hard. He didn’t need to know I was a virgin. I was twenty-five, but I’d never had time for a man or the patience for one. Men my age were immature, obsessed with partying and getting with as many girls as humanly possible. That hadn’t been enough to hold my interest, so I’d never sought one out.

Lawson grinned with conquest.

“I thought so,” he murmured knowingly, and I blanched as his fingers slid inside me even deeper. I cried out as he slowly pushed into me, his fingers feeling far larger than the one toy I’d been brave enough to play with in the privacy of my own bedroom.

“As punishment, my bad little girl, you’re going to come for me again,” he threatened.

“I can’t,” I squeaked.

I’d never come more than once in my life. I’d attempted it just once and my clit had been far too sensitive to the touch to even dare it. I’d given up almost as soon as I had started.

“Do you think it’s up to you, naughty girl?”

He began to fuck me roughly with his thick fingers, using his other hand to jerk my panties back and forth. When he placed a thumb over top of the fabric that covered my clit, I knew I was lost.

I cried out as that familiar painful sensation returned, but this time I couldn’t escape it. This time it wasn’t my own fingers in charge, but his.

My inner walls clutched greedily at his fingers, either wanting them deeper or needing to push them out. My nipples hardened even more than I thought possible, aching and pulsing from his punishing bite still. My nostrils flared as I tried to draw in air and my heart pounded in my chest.

The agony between my legs only grew more intense. This time, the pain far outweighed the pleasure. When I would have stopped, he pushed past it and just when it felt like it was too much to bear, my body relented, and I shattered.

I thought I’d come hard the first time.

The second one devastated me.

His fingers moved roughly between my thighs, and I felt every ridge, every knuckle, every inch of friction from the thickness of those masterful digits. He fucked me with them hard. He wasn’t gentle and they hurt too. My pussy couldn’t seem to get used to the girth of those fingers and it burned hot as they constantly stretched me open. The cloth fabric of my soaked panties still roughly rubbed against my clit, and I couldn’t hold off the onslaught of pleasure even if I’d tried.

I screamed from the very beginning. My legs shook and I tried to close them, but it didn’t matter. He jerked the fabric so much harder, so much more roughly, and I responded with far more intensity than I could have ever prepared for.

My throat started to grow hoarse, but the drowning abyss of my release continued. This orgasm felt as if a knife was twisting deep in my core, threatening to tear me open and render me entirely defenseless and utterly wrecked.

“Oh, please!” I screamed, my pussy clamping down around his fingers like a vise. My body held him firmly, but still he pushed past that tightness and fucked me with those fingers hard enough that I knew I would be sore long after he was through with me.

My release lasted far longer than I thought it would and when it finally started to fade away, I was left a whimpering mess of well-satisfied woman. My body slumped into the bed, all fight drained away and I just focused on the effort it took to draw one breath after another into my lungs.

I’d come two times in a row.

I closed my eyes, just trying to calm down. My heart pounded in my chest so hard that I thought it would fly right out. My blood rushed so swiftly through my veins that it sounded like a surging river in my head.

I was worn out. I hadn’t been able to sleep before, but I was certain that I would be able to now. I’d be able to sleep like a goddamn baby. I was that tired.

“I’m going to give you one last chance, bad girl. Ask me to remove your panties.”