Her Broken Alpha - Isoellen Page 0,49

but it had to be used sparingly.

He memorized every inch of her beauty. Insatiable for the taste and texture of Naya’s skin, Darre suckled at her, kissed, and nuzzled, cuddling his face against her abundance.

His mate returned the affection and cradled him, allowing him to take his fill even as she started to beg. "Please, Monster, please."

"Shhhh. Poor baby. Poor treasure. It's all right. I know what you need."

The scent of her want soaked the room, the moisture of her need slipping down her thighs, slicking him where their bodies touched.

He didn't leave her breasts until her nipples were distended and her areolas swollen, pillowed by the abrasion of his raspy beard. Until he felt a physical response from her each time he brushed his thumbs across them.

"Please, please, please,” she pleaded.

"I need a taste of you, baby girl. I need to eat you up. I feel like all I've gotten so far is sips."

"But… but… please. We already..." She lost her words in a breathy moan.

Sweet, proper girl. She'd been raised right. In a good household, by good parents. She still couldn't say the dirty things she wanted from him.

"Little princess. My little princess,” he growled against her belly.

Darre missed the curve from the first days of her heat. He wanted to see that gentle swell of flesh—and more—again. It represented everything soft and female to him. The idea that her belly would become round with his child made his cock jerk, spurting essence at just the thought of it. He laughed at himself, grinding against the edge of the bed.

He moved farther down until he was kneeling on the floor and her pussy was right where he wanted. He would learn her needs here as well.

He licked up her slick, fed on her, delighted by her petaled flesh, and teased her with gentle touches before changing his rhythm again.

"I can't take it. Please. Please. Please!"

"You can take it, baby. You can take it all."

She came, hips jerking, body trying to curl over him and pull away at the same time. But he wrapped his arms around her and pressed in close, holding her tight, keeping her on the edge.

"Can't, can't, can't!" she chanted wildly.

He teased her entrance with the blunted tip of a forefinger while his still-clawed thumb rubbed over her feminine pucker.

She howled and bucked, trying to get away.

"Mine. You’re mine. My naughty little breeder girl. It's time for your punishment, Naya." He suckled on her clit, five sharp pulses that had her screaming.

He carved her down to nothing, found the core of her pleasure and pain and robbed her of every thought but him. She would lose herself completely, mind, body, and soul in what he was doing and what he wanted. By the time he was finished, he wanted her to feel possessed by him.

"Please, please, please!"

"So beautiful,” he murmured. “You are amazing. Perfect. I think I dreamed you up in my madness, treasure. I've gone over, gone so far over that I'm trapped in a hallucination—my every fuckin’ wish come true."

He teased her with one finger, pressing it in to the first knuckle, feeling her incredible, succulent wetness. Then with two fingers, he began pumping in and out.

"But I need to punish you. Should I stop now? Leave you wanting? Spank you? You broke one of my rules, baby. Don't think I forgot."

A high-pitched sound came out of her, long and wailing.

"Oh, sweetheart. I want you to sing for me. Yes. I will make you sing for me."

"What rule? What rule?" she demanded.

"Rule three. And if you can remember what that is right now, then you are thinking too much and I might need to punish you even more. Maybe I'm doing something wrong."

Naya gasped when he inserted a third finger and began to pump hard into her. Gorgeous fluid drenched his hand and he lapped it up, always starved for more.

He felt around, searching for the angle she liked best, until he found her most sensitive spot then purposely avoided it, taking her again to the razor edge of desperate need.

She sang for him, a wordless howl devolving into pleas and promises. Darre pumped a brutal thrust against her with his hand. His fingers were shorter than his cock, so there was less danger of pounding too deep, and he wanted her to feel this in the morning when she woke and tried to walk out of the nest.

Holding her with one arm while she writhed on the fingers claiming and owning her,