An Alpha's Need (Four Wicked Beginnings with BBWs, Billionaires, Soldiers and Shifters) Read online

  Reaching up, Griffin pulled the top panels of her blouse down. He stripped his black Polo shirt off, allowing her breasts and swollen nipples to drag over his bare chest as her fingers ran up and down his cock. His hands settled against the small of her back, moving when she moved.

  “Do you need me to fuck you, Katelyn?”

  “Yes.” The horny breathless moan shamed her. So did the marble surface of the table wet and slippery from her cunt.

  “Any way I want?”

  She responded with another breathless “yes.” Her ass lifted off the table to press her mound against his cock. From her earliest memories of sexual discovery to that moment with him in his office, she couldn't remember being so aroused. Alone or with a lover, only Montgomery -- a man she should despise -- had produced so strong a reaction in her. Every nerve cell fired, every gland capable of secreting moisture flooded when he looked at or touched her.

  Reaching under her skirt, Griffin tore the panties off with a hard jerk. His hands molding her naked bottom, he spread her labia.

  “Tell me what you want, Kate.”

  “Fuck me, please.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body lifting higher as she braced her feet against the table's legs. “Right now, any way you want.”

  “Any hole?” He slid his forearm under her ass, supporting her weight as she rubbed the soft fur of her sex against his lower stomach.

  She hesitated, ashamed to admit that pleasure would claim her with whichever orifice he invaded. Just sucking him off would send her over the edge. Already, she gasped with need, the contractions running through her cunt so violent she might come before he granted permission. If she did, he would likely deny her his cock.

  Eyes closed, she nodded. “Yes, anything.”

  Reaching next to her, he opened a drawer on the table. She heard the crinkle of foil, the sound half-slapping her back to reality. She had been ready to take him bare, skin on skin. She had never lost herself to the moment with any other man. Even during her climaxes, a part of her remained distant to watch her lover at his point of ultimate weakness.

  Griffin stepped back, creating enough space between their bodies to roll the condom down his cock. She watched him as he worked it over the swollen, blood-infused head and down the thickly veined shaft. Starting to lick her lips, she caught herself and blushed.

  He caught her, too. With a wicked smile, he dragged her bottom all the way to the edge of the table and pushed her knees farther apart. “Stroke it, Kate.”

  She reached for him, wrapped both hands around it and gently tugged. He rocked back and forth on his heels as she pulled and relaxed. His hands found her nipples again, rolling and pinching the sensitive buds. He drew them taut and her head snapped back, her hands freezing. He held the tips straining and extended. Her eyes rolled up from the pure pleasure of it.

  “You like a little pain.”

  She fought to find her voice. He pinched a little harder, pulled a little tighter.

  “Katelyn?”

  “Yes,” she moaned at last.

  “Surprised?”

  Damn, he sounded so sexy. She dropped her head forward to meet his gaze straight on before answering him. “Yes.”

  He smiled and she knew the answer pleased him. Releasing her breasts, he put one hand on her hip. The other ran a line down to her mound. The back of his knuckles lightly stroked the dark silk of pubic hair before he slid two fingers inside. Finding that spongy knot he had teased earlier, he took short, firm strokes.

  Her throat and pussy constricting together, Katelyn mewled.

  “Mmm…pet, you like that.”

  God, yes! She'd even let him call her “pet” again if he kept his fingers in her.

  Stepping closer, he bent to kiss her neck. “Such a hot little pussy, Kate.”

  She groaned, lifted her legs and locked them behind his back. “Take me, please.”

  “This tight hole?” He sluiced a third finger into her, the girth only half as big as his cock.

  “Griffin, please.” She dug her heels into his butt, her strong legs drawing their bodies closer.

  “Should I let you come when I fuck you?”

  She growled, the sound no fiercer than a puppy's. She tried to kiss him. He evaded her, his hand leaving her hip to coil in her hair and control her head. His fingers withdrew. She felt the brush of his knuckles against her inner thigh as he positioned his cock then the head stretched her. Holding onto her hair with one hand, he pressed the other against her bottom and pulled her forward, his cock sliding in and up to penetrate her.

  “Should I let you come?”

  Fuck, he had her right there at the edge, had to know she was half a stroke from unleashing all over him. “Please.”

  He pulled back, almost out, the thick head hooking inside her tight sheath. “I don't think so," he said.

  She squirmed, her cunt locking down on him, her muscles squeezing and rolling the length of his shaft as she silently begged him to let her come.

  He rocked his hips -- a little forward, a little back -- forcing another whimper from her. “Good pets get to come.”

  “I'll be good.” Her eyes glistened from the ache he created. “I promise.”

  Victory flashed in the ice blue eyes and he smiled. “Lean back.”

  She did, her fingers wrapping around the stone edge of the table's surface. He drew her legs up, kept them spread wide with her heels resting on the table's edge. His hands covered her inner thighs, keeping her open as he slowly pushed in and out. His gaze stayed on her pussy, tracked the pulse running through her clit and soaked in the way his cock emerged slick with her cream.

  Every breath was a moan. Her grip on the table tightened, her thighs flexed. She lifted her ass, felt her whole cunt knotting and throbbing around his dick. He looked at her then, his eyes holding her attention, his expression fierce as his tempo intensified.

  His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her like a vise as he pounded into her tender and swollen tissues, never looking away from her face. He knew the heart beat before Katelyn's climaxed slammed into her and the second it reached its apex. He chose that moment to come with her, his teeth indenting his bottom lip as the first thick, sticky jet of relief left him.

  He controlled the descent of her orgasm. His cock eased from her in small increments, stopping again and again to tease a new pleasure point inside her until her hips twitched and her breasts quivered with fresh need. He pushed and pulled on her thighs, guiding her pussy in small circles round and round his cock until a miniature quake rolled through her hard and fast and she collapsed against his chest.

  Wrapping his arms around her, Griffin avoided the sweet temptation of her mouth. Kissing her there suddenly too intimate for his raw nerves.

  He held her until her breathing returned to normal and then he pulled all the way out. Bending smoothly, he jerked his pants up over his lean hips, ridding himself of the condom and zipping back up. His gaze landing everywhere but on her smooth, glistening skin, he retrieved his belt and shirt. When he could look at her without immediately wanting to hold her, he gestured toward the door.

  “I want you naked, in bed, at nine. Until then, get lost."

  ********************

  Katelyn stood outside Griffin's closed office door two minutes later. She figured the gallery had a camera, just as the bedroom did, but doubted he was watching her. Just as before, he had divorced himself from her, turning his lust and tenderness off like a water spigot.

  She could stand outside the door for hours and it would do her no good. She spun on her heels, marched through the house and back to the bedroom. Storming past the dresser, she saw an envelope on it. The surface had been empty when she left the room earlier.

  She snatched the paper up, kicked off her high heels and threw herself onto the bed. Rolling onto her back, she ripped the edge open then realized the envelope wasn't sealed. Scowling, she removed the sheet of paper. The masculine strokes could have been written by anyone. She
wouldn't recognize Griffin's signature had the note been signed. Hers had been the only name on the contract.

  Biting back a growl, she held the paper up and read. Basic housekeeping, the strong curves and heavy ink that made up the shape of the letters more interesting than the words. Directions to the dining room and kitchen where a cook was on call until seven.

  She froze, mortified by the realization there were other people on the grounds, maybe even in the palatial mansion.

  Another scowl twisted along her brow.

  Of course there were people in the house, real people doing real work, not fuck dolls brought in for the week. Crumpling the paper into a ball, she tossed it at the television and rolled over, dragging the mink throw with her and wrapping it around her exhausted body.

  Trying to ignore that the man who had just given her the most mind-shattering sexual experience of her life was busy rearranging pieces of his empire like pawns on a chessboard without a single thought in her direction, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  ********************

  His iPad resting on a stand on his desk, Griffin watched Katelyn sleep. A tone sounded on his computer, one of his senior executives instant messaging him. He pressed the power button and held it, eliminating the intrusion.

  He should have grown bored watching her after the first hour, but she was a restless sleeper. She would roll to one side, a leg appearing just as she drew her exposed arm close to her body beneath the blanket. Ten minutes later, she was on her back, thighs parted, one knee bent. A toss, a tease, stomach down, bottom up, lush and bare.

  His phone rang, he put it on speaker, his gaze never shifting from Katelyn.

  Merger agreements, production releases, some damn transfer pricing adjustment the IRS was trying to shove down his throat -- he pushed it all off to someone else one interrupting call after the other. He hadn't had a real vacation in two years. He intended to have one now.

  One week, one woman, all his.

  No phones, no computers, just soft moans and softer lips.

  When she finally stopped twisting along the bed, Griffin leaned back in his chair and watched her, his body just as motionless and slowly drifting to sleep.

  Two hours later, he opened his eyes to an empty bed.

  He tapped through the camera displays, heart knocking around his chest until he found her sitting at the kitchen island chatting with Harriet, Philip's wife. He kept the sound off, knowing Katelyn was too reserved to offer any real details about her life.

  He already had a folder full of facts she would never tell him, starting with the reason she had quit Team USA. That had taken quite a bit of digging, the answer only making him want her more. The kind of loyalty she'd shown in leaving the team was so rare he could spend a lifetime and not find someone who would offer him half as much.

  Not that she would offer him any. She had no reason to trust him or even like him. But she wanted him, and that was a start.

  Smiling, he got up and entered a room just off his study. There was a long leather couch and another door that led into a bathroom. A week's worth of clothes hung on a make shift rack, the rest of them shuttled off to some remote room in the house. The bedroom Katelyn slept in was his, but he didn't want her to know that.

  At least not yet.

  Glancing at the clock, he planned the next few hours without her. A quick shower, some dinner brought down, maybe another nap so he'd be ready to fuck and tease his little pet all night long. Smiling, he headed into the bathroom with a whistle.

  ********************

  After eating in the kitchen with Harriet, Katelyn spent a few hours aimlessly exploring the estate, wondering to what extent Griffin watched. By seven, she was back in the bedroom running a hot bath. She filled it with thick foam, smirking as she sank into the water.

  While she didn't doubt the technology existed, it would be difficult and complete overkill for him to know where her hands were occupied beneath the layer of bubbles. Still, she didn't touch herself. She wanted Griffin's hands on her, in her, his fat, beautiful cock pounding inside her or taking it sweet and slow. He was an amazing lover, his power out in the world giving him a confidence few men rightfully possessed and it was a surprising aphrodisiac. She'd always had an anti-authoritarian streak, shaped in part by her asshole father, Judge Gregory T. Willow, J.D., LLM, SOB.

  Thinking of her old man turned her smile into a scowl. She forced her thoughts back in Griffin's direction, the change quickly altering her body's response to the wet, steamy environment. Recalling the hard lines of his chest and the sublime intensity of his face, she wanted badly to stroke her clit.

  She knew her face would give her away. She looked at the ceiling, guessing the camera was built into the light fixture. There were candles on the shelves. She could light them, turn the lights out and try very hard to keep her expression clear of any evidence of her pleasure.

  Feeling her brows lift and her mouth wrinkle with need, she realized her face was already giving her away, her hands nowhere near her pussy. She raised them, gripped the sides of the freestanding tub, and stared again at the ceiling. If her hands were visible, she couldn't possibly be touching herself.

  And she didn't really need to touch herself to get off. She just had to think of Griffin and exercise a little muscle control.

  The smirk resurfaced. Keeping her gaze focused above her, she put her imagination and muscles to work. Picturing his thickly veined cock stretching her, she squeezed her vaginal wall, forcing it to make inward rolling contractions. Moaning, she arched her back, her eyes unable to stay open.

  Fuck, that felt good. Nothing like the real thing of having him in her, but imagining him, his hands everywhere, his mouth kissing hers, his tongue edging her teeth until he broke the kiss to fasten on one of her swollen nipples, the muscles of her pussy knotting and rolling the whole time, was more than good enough to keep her on edge.

  Releasing a shaky breath, she flipped the drain's lever and watched the water level slowly drop around her. She slowed the pace of her coiling muscles, waiting until she could dry off and take her experiment to the bed. Closing in on seven-forty, he might be watching her, enjoying the way she squirmed in anticipation of his arrival. Instead, he'd see her coming -- hands free and in technical compliance with his rule.

  A grin firmly in place, Katelyn stepped from the tub and dried off. Looking through the new products artfully arranged near the double sink, she selected a bottle of almond oil and took it into the bedroom. Positioning herself in the middle of the bed, she started to apply a light coating of oil to moisturize her skin. She started with her arms, moved down over her breasts and stomach to skirt the edges of her pussy, thighs splayed, her sex open to the camera's inspection.

  She continued down her thighs, her breasts lightly swaying as she kneaded her leg muscles with slippery hands, then to her feet, remembering the spark of appetite in the alley when Griffin saw her red suede pumps. She arched her feet, finished them then slowly moved back up her legs, once again daring to brush the perimeter of her sex. With just her index fingers, she lightly outlined the area before wiping the last of the oil from her hands onto her stomach.

  Reaching above her head, she gripped the top lip of the headboard and really started the show.

  ********************

  In his office, Griffin watched the display on screen. Sexy, achingly beautiful in his eyes and very deserving of a spanking, Katelyn had just finished oiling down her tight body. She grabbed the headboard, spread her legs wide open and started to taunt and tease him in earnest. She rolled the muscles of her pussy, the swollen clit jumping up and down with each deep squeeze inside her. Her face, that of a fallen angel, reveled in being disobedient, defying her master.

  Unzipping his pants, he glanced quickly at the clock. He had intended making her wait long beyond nine, watching her squirm on the monitor, her face silently pleading with him each time she looked in the camera's direction. He wasn't sure he could last that long, didn
't want to spill his seed all over the office furniture when he could be spilling it inside her lovely little cunt.

  One hand squeezing his dick, he rubbed the other roughly against his cheek. She sought to beat him at his own game, one he'd been playing over half his life. He glanced away from the monitor, his gaze landing on the picture hiding his office wall safe. He had a gift tucked inside, something he'd purchased half a year ago in anticipation of the day his path intersected with the reserved Miss Willow.

  Six agonizing months of knowing she existed, of having witnessed, however briefly, the spark of submission in her eyes and then waiting to arrange something. He had never expected that something to be a resume accidentally crossing his desk for a position he would never have personally interviewed. He'd been disappointed as hell yesterday when she didn't show for the interview and equally pleased when security tried to stall him from leaving because of a woman standing outside his private garden.

  Now he had her in his bed, putting on a show for him, practically begging for him to come in and punish her for circumventing the spirit of his command. He had to decide -- punish her now, in the flesh, or wait, his absence just the first rebuke and a promise of greater retribution.

  Fuck. He groaned. She was close to climax, he could tell by the way she held her mouth, the upward strain of her eyelids and the tightening of her stomach. That was his climax to take, he'd be damned if she had it without him.

  Rising, he zipped his pants, quickly retrieved the package from the safe and rushed to her room.

  ********************

  Katelyn was on her knees, ass in the air and hands plainly in view, one last roll of her pussy left before she came when the door slowly swung inward.

  Burying her face against the bedspread, she smiled as the rest of her body froze in place. After a few long seconds during which Griffin didn't move or speak, she looked over her shoulder. He held a box in one hand, big like something people stored hats in. A woven, gold-colored fabric with matching ribbon at the top served as wrapping.

  Feeling daring, she smiled at him. “My punishment is a present?”