Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
“Touch your clit.”
I whine. My upper body is pressed so flat to the ground, I can’t reach it.
“Flora.” His voice holds a note of alpha command. My pussy spasms around his thrusting cock, and it feels so unbelievably good. I want more, harder, faster. I want him to batter me, to force the thing coiling in my belly to explode.
“Flora, play with your clit.”
“I can’t.” Can’t he see? I’m smooshed into the ground.
He curses unintelligibly under his breath, wraps an arm around my waist, and hauls me upright, flush to his chest. I shriek. He doesn’t miss a stroke.
“You can touch it now,” he says.
“You’re going to drop me.” I cling to the arm holding me up.
He’s thrusting into me, manhandling me into the angle he wants, and I’m not taking any of my own weight. My knees aren’t even touching the ground.
He squeezes more firmly across my midsection, making my belly spill over his forearm. I’m trapped, captured, held tight.
“No, I’m not,” he says between pants. “I’ve got you. Now rub your clit.”
“I can’t reach it.” His arm’s in the way.
He grunts, switching up his hold to free his right hand, and then he pulls out and grabs me between my legs, squeezing my pussy like he’s feeling out where it is in the dark. He’s never touched me there before; he’s only watched me touch myself.
His touch is rough, but not cruel.
His breath grows more and more ragged in my ear. He delves between my tender, punished folds, spreading me wide, sliding his middle finger inside me while he rubs circles around my clit, exactly the speed and direction as I do when he watches.
A burst of pleasure—aching, itchy, exquisite pleasure—makes me clamp my knees shut, a purely instinctive reaction, and he wrangles them apart again, muttering, “No. Be good. Don’t try to stop me.”
He flicks and circles my clit with his calloused finger, his sweat-slick chest pressed to my back, one arm holding me up, an elbow bracing my knees apart. I’m hyperventilating, waves of relief and ecstasy crashing through me, each reaching further than the last, but none going quite all the way.
“Alec,” I sob.
“Do you need to come, baby?”
“Yes,” I cry.
“Okay, come for me now.” He hauls me up and drops me onto his cock, thrusting into my already spasming pussy at the same time, not letting up for a second on my clit. Every muscle in my pelvis bears down, and the next second, my body erupts in pure, electric joy.
I scream. Alec tightens both arms around me, squeezing the air from my lungs, as he bucks once, twice, coming with a shout as his knot swells, locking him inside me, and while his shout still rings in my ear and my body soars, convulsing with aftershocks, and my brain goes blank white, he sinks his fangs into the crook of my neck.
Pain explodes in the same instant that my limbs instinctually freeze. My wolf whimpers.
I wasn’t ready for this.
I didn’t think this through.
Alec’s wolf rumbles to calm me, vibrating my back, as Alec carefully extracts his fangs from my flesh and licks the wound with his rough tongue. He’s sunk down on his butt now, and I’m sprawled on his lap, trapped in place by his knot, boneless and paralyzed and trembling.
I clutch his forearms because there’s no other way to steady myself.
We’re mates for real now.
I didn’t want this, not like this, but I didn’t have a choice either, and resentment and regret feel like abstractions floating just out of reach as my brain wakes up and takes in this new physical reality.
I’m stuck on Alec’s cock. I wiggle to test the knot, and it’s lodged in there, and all moving does is make me feel like I have to pee. And my neck hurts. The sharp pain is ebbing, but it’s being replaced with a dull throb. I want to see what it looks like. I want to touch it, but I don’t know how bad my skin is torn, and I don’t want to poke an open wound.
I’ve never felt so sated or so powerless, and my wolf’s never been so pleased.
“I-I want to get down,” I say.
Alec shifts, adjusting his hold on me, and it is a little more comfortable, but he doesn’t let me go. He can’t.
He rocks us slightly, side to side, while his wolf rumbles. “Soon,” he murmurs.
“How much longer?”
There’s a pause before he answers. “I’m not sure.”
He nuzzles my shoulder, near where he bit me. He’s scent marking me. Claiming me.
Once upon a time, this would have been a dream come true. Bitterness fills the empty space left when my body wrung itself out. I push up to see if I’m still stuck. Alec tries to hold me tighter, but his reflexes are a touch too slow. I throw myself forward, and it hurts, but with a wet pop, I get myself free, falling onto my knees. Cum gushes down my thighs.
“Fuck, Flora.” Alec comes after me, gathering me back to his chest, tucking me between his bent legs, and I’m so drained and limp that I can’t even fight him except for a few half-hearted smacks. “I never knew you were so stubborn.”
“You don’t know me at all.” Even my voice is drained.
He snorts, but gently. “I know you.”
“You didn’t even know about Harriet.”
“Who’s Harriet?”
“My rabbit.” He’s proving my point.
He starts playing with my hair, brushing it out from my face, smoothing it back. “I know you take care of things. You’re good with your hands. You’re good to people.” It’s not sweet talk. He says it like he’s pointing out the obvious.
It’s still instinct to argue, but my fuzzy brain trips over what he’s saying, and I shut my mouth without speaking.
He’s right.
I’m the one who keeps the machines running at the laundry, the one who keeps the stockroom full of supplies. I’ve figured out how to fix almost everything around the house since Miss Nola doesn’t like people in her space. I took care of my dam before she passed, and then I took care of Miss Nola. Before I bailed on her.
I squirm, jerking my hair out of his hands. Alec doesn’t take offense, he just switches his attention to stroking my arms, smoothing me, shoulders to wrists, tangling his fingers with mine and moving on before I stir myself to snatch my hand away.
I thought males took off after they did their business. Bram Blackburn did. He told me that if I mentioned what we did to anyone, he’d deny it, so I’d better keep my mouth shut, and then he left out the back.
Alec’s hands roam to my breasts, and he plays with them, not hungrily like he does when we sneak off together, but lazily. Tenderly. It distracts me, so I don’t react right away when he smooths his palm over my stomach and cups the pudge that rounds my lower belly, as if that’s a totally normal thing to do, and isn’t weird at all.
I screech and slap his hand.
“What?” he asks, groggy, like I woke him up.
“Don’t touch that.”
“Why not?” He sounds genuinely confused.
“It’s gross.”
“What are you talking about?” He straightens, shifting me so that he can see my face at the same time I try to wriggle free. He ends up settling me on his thigh and wrapping both arms around me again to hold me there. His leg hair scratches my bare butt. I stiffen. The languid, mind-blown feeling is gone.
“Let me up.”
“You think me touching you is gross?” His voice drops. He’s pissed.
I’m not scared, but I’m still quick to correct him. “I think what you’re touching is gross.”
“This?” He cups my chub again. I can’t suck it away with the way I’m sitting.
“Yes!”
“Your squish?”