Her Broken Alpha - Isoellen Page 0,22

can take me home. I have a nest there. Just take me a minute to arrange it for... you," she said primly, picturing what she had prepared versus this alpha's size.

"No. No going home for you, girl. You use what I have,” he said with a put-upon sigh. "I didn't know I would need nest-building materials and girly shit today."

His words contradicted his mind-bending purr and the way his hand glided along her back and through her wet hair. He made no move to put her down; instead he went over to one of the trunks. Shifting her to his hip, he worked the combination and threw open the lid, pulling out the long top tray. Then he grunted at her again.

This was a nicer grunt—noncommittal, but it seemed to ask a question.

Naya looked inside. She saw bundles that looked like real furs.

"Oh, yes,” she moaned in delight. Loosening her legs, she slipped to the floor so she could see better, touch better.

There were three giant furs, all of them different textures, colors, and types. She'd never seen anything like them. There was one with long, curly white and blond hair, enticingly soft and shaggy; one with shiny black hair that lightened to chocolate brown near what she thought were arms and legs, sleek in one direction, but prickly when brushed in the other; and the third one had brown stripes interspersed over gold hairs that almost looked orange and was amazingly soft.

There were smaller furs too. She gathered everything she found, then went to his clothes rack and picked items from there.

All of this she arranged carefully on his bed. She got in and out of her creation a couple of times, rolling around, testing the size and layers, feeling those furs on her bottom, her breasts, and making noises of delight.

"Are you done yet?" Monster asked.

Naya hummed as she looked up at him.

All his muscles were magnificently tense. His cock arched dramatically in his hand, leaking milky stuff that he caught with his palm and drew down the shaft, rubbing it in.

The flesh there had a darker pigment than the rest of him, colored like a ripe plum at the tip and blending to a deep nut-brown at the base where hair curled in tight, short circles.

Beneath his cock—round and swollen, dark skin taut—were his testicles. The diagrams from her studies hadn't been colorized and hadn’t described the heady smell, nor the tempting hair she wanted to rub against her cheeks. Bigger than her wrist was wide and ridiculously long, she couldn't believe that his cock had fit inside of her.

It had hurt, she remembered. Hurt so much she shivered with the memory, craving more.

She wanted to taste him, to know him and connect with him in this fundamental way. Her mouth watered at the rich scent of his yearning. Of all the things she had prepared for, a need to put his cock in her mouth—to taste, to suck—wasn't one of them.

No one had told her she would want to do that. It certainly wasn't on the list of things to expect the doctor had given her.

"Girl. What do I call you?"

"Mate,” she said, grinning at him. Hands above her head, Naya arched her back, wriggling so that her chest jiggled.

His eyes followed the movement, but he frowned. "Your name? Or I will keep calling you girl."

"My name is Naya, Mr. Monster. Care to give me yours now?" She spread her legs wide, teasing him as she looked at that cock of his. She wanted it. Just a little taste.

"You will learn it soon enough, and not be happy you did, I imagine. Are you going to invite me in, or should I just force my way there?"

She giggled again. She couldn't help it.

Wearing a thunderous expression, he appeared impatient with her presence in his bed. But his hand worked his cock with increasing urgency, milking it for her. She scooted to the edge, making room for him as she held out her hand.

He only had one knee on the bed when Naya jumped at him. All her inhibitions gone, head in his lap, she covered his hand with both of hers, and captured the mushroom head of his root in her mouth.

"Fuck, girl. Fuck. Naya." His words were hoarse, desperate. Finally, his need matched what she was feeling.

The fluid from his cock was thick like a sweet glaze. She needed more of it.

Naya worked his cock in long strokes the same way he had. She thought