Alphas of Seduction

by Victoria Blue

  My skin tingled as he drew his rough fingers over the flesh of my legs.

  “Keep doing that,” I breathed, “and you can enjoy the view as long as you like.”

  He rubbed his hands back and forth on my skin, and I felt the goose bumps rush over me. Part of me wanted to keep trying to resist him. But another thought in my mind grew stronger—the thought that some touching would quench the urges that had been welling up inside me during my past few months of celibacy.

  His hands rode up toward my waist, and I reciprocated by rubbing mine on his midsection. Need coursing through me with every breath, I untied his tie and desperately undid the buttons of his fancy white shirt.

  Sam kissed my neck all over and I ran my hands along the muscled skin of his chest and abs.

  “Your skin is so hot,” I mouthed.

  He shrugged. “Looks like you’re not the only one with this hot skin problem.”

  “Well, we’d better get these off you, too,” I said, tugging at his belt.

  Our lips collided again. Our hips grinded, his hand wrapped around my ass, and his hand felt all too familiar all of a sudden, like I’d known him for years.

  But this was a stranger, I reminded myself. I’d never seen Sam before tonight.

  Time became a vortex as we kissed and wrestled on the couch. I lost track of everything in the outside world, and there were just the two of us.

  I loved the feel of his weight on top of me, and the flesh of his hips and butt when I rested my hand on him. But it was the intensity of his eyes that fueled the fire igniting inside my core.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I heard him breathing hard in my ear.

  “We’re really doing this,” I whispered.

  “Did you think we’d hook up when we first saw each other at the bar tonight?”

  “Honestly?”

  I nodded.

  “I thought you were hot as fuck. But I went into this with zero expectations. This is the best night I’ve had in a long time, no matter what happens right now.”

  I breathed hard, rubbing my hand through his hair.

  “And what do you want to have happen right now?”

  He swallowed, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob.

  “I want you to fuck my face.”

  All the breath left me, like I was a deflating balloon.

  “Oh, dear God,” I muttered, and as I did, he trickled kisses on my breasts, lifting up my bra to flick his tongue on my nipples.

  Arching my back, I felt myself submitting totally to his touch.

  His lips and the five o’clock shadow of his square jaw brushed across my belly button, tickling me to my core.

  When he twisted my body around, kneeled on the floor, and spread my legs, my mind raced with an overflowing fantasy of where this night would end up.

  How far did he want to go?

  How far did I want to go?

  My heart beat hard against my chest. I realized maybe I was the one who was projecting my need onto him.

  Maybe I was the one who’d first assumed things when I saw Sam in the bar.

  He slipped a finger under the cloth of my panties and slid them off, and I just watched him. He was so damn sexy, and I loved that I was the woman who was privileged to see all that muscle underneath his CEO attire.

  Sam, the CEO.

  The sexy stranger from the bar.

  The man who I knew nothing about in reality, yet somehow he made me feel like I’d known him for years, the way my body craved him and surrendered to his touch.

  He licked around my opening, teasing me with his tongue and positioning my hips just the way he wanted with a firm yet delicate touch.

  His tongue, like his hands, was a paradox of delicate firmness. When he flicked my clit with it, I grasped his head, needing to hang on for dear life.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Sam, you sexy-ass man.”

  Pausing for a moment, he looked up at me, licked his lips, and then brought himself back between my legs without saying another word.

  I felt myself fall back into the time vortex, gripping his shoulders, a clump of hair, the couch pillows behind me. I was so high I worried I might float away, like the eagle I caught a glimpse of in Planet Earth Two as it kept playing on the TV.

  When I thought I couldn’t get much higher, I felt myself rising off the couch, but without Sam’s mouth leaving me.

  Before I could protest or ask what he was doing, he carried me into the bedroom, then laid me down with my legs still straddling his face.

  Getting on my knees, I rose up from his mouth and let him have a couple of breaths.

  “Dagny,” he muttered. “If you want to know the dirty thoughts I was thinking about in the bar, I’ll tell you now.”

  “Seems like as good a time as any for you to tell me,” I moaned.

  “I was thinking about how you’d taste while you grind on me.”

  My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I sat on his face, letting out a long, muffled moan.

  His hands wrapped around my thighs.

  His tongue between my folds.

  The hint of an insatiable growl from his mouth.

  My senses felt overcome, and I felt my orgasm crescendo toward the top of the mountain.

  I never thought a man could be in control while I was grinding on his face, but this was the case with Sam. He attacked me with special vigor.

  When I felt a finger curl up inside me, I leapt over the edge.

  My orgasm crashed down onto my body with the force of a million little moans trickling through my body.

  “Fuck, Sam,” I mewled, arching my back and landing my hands on his stomach for balance.

  One of them accidentally grazed his cock, and he let out a grizzled moan.

  I was coming down from my orgasm, but I couldn’t wait another second for what I wanted to do. Sliding away from his upper body, I snapped his belt and pants off and pulled his briefs off with them so that his cock sprung free.

  “Oh, hell,” I muttered. “This is going to be a force to be reckoned with.”

  His hands behind his head and still lying down, he smiled at me.

  “I reckon you’re right. How do you plan to do battle?”

  His lips were still wet all around with my juices. It was a major turn-on.

  “Don’t think twice,” Sam added. “Just do.”

  “All right.” I swallowed.

  Normally, I was on the shyer side.

  Maybe I was wrong for being shy with my ex. Or maybe I was afraid of his judgment lingering through the relationship.

  Whatever the case, I felt one hundred and twenty percent comfortable with this man.

  After flipping my body around, I inched my hips back until I was straddling his head again, except this time I was in position to grab his cock.

  Sixty-nine.

  Grabbing his base, I licked the sides of his hard shaft.

  His generous tongue flicked against me. Still high from my last orgasm, I felt my pleasure ratchet up in intensity.

  This time, instead of moaning, I responded by plunging my mouth onto the tip of his cock.

  A loud grunt came out of his mouth, making my entire body vibrate with the reverberations.

  Sliding my hand up and down his hard length, I licked and sucked him.

  His hips shook. Mine did, too, and we became the stereotype of a dirty, filthy, one-night stand as we quenched each other’s mutual desire.

  “Dagny,” I heard his gruff voice after a spell.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you on my cock.”

  “I want to be on your cock.”

  I hesitated, then spoke again.

  “I can’t get pregnant.”

  He squinted. “You can’t?”

  “I tried with my…my ex for several years after our first. Then went to a doctor… It doesn’t matter.”

  He flipped me over, then spun around so he was in front of me.

  Finally, he was in the power position, though some
how, even when I was grinding on his face, it always felt like he was in control.

  Rubbing his tip on my opening, I saw how his eyes hooded over.

  As he teased me with his hard width, I wanted him so badly.

  All of him.

  “Sam, I know this is crazy…but I trust you. If you trust me.”

  He ran his hands sweetly over my abdomen.

  “I trust you, you dirty-ass girl from New York.”

  Chills rocked through me, his words touching some deep part of my hindbrain, a time when I was another person entirely.

  “Fuck me, you sexy-ass man,” I muttered.

  Having not had sex in some time, my opening was extra-sensitive.

  I breathed heavily as he plunged in and out of me. Finally, he thrust all the way in, and I yelled so loud I hoped he had soundproof walls.

  Actually, I didn’t hope. I didn’t care if they heard.

  I wanted him. Actually, wanted wasn’t a sufficient word.

  I needed him.

  We wrestled and knocked our sweaty skin together and nibbled and pulled our hair and fucked.

  Like animals who’d been walking through the desert for months to find the watering hole.

  We were gorging.

  I liked how his big hands seemed to grab me everywhere at once.

  I loved how he lifted my hair out of the way so he could purr in my ear.

  But most of all I loved that I was feeling the weight of a man on top of me—inside me—and two hours ago, I didn’t even know his name.

  I wanted it this way.

  And he gave it to me.

  Clenching hard around his cock, I dug my nails into him as I swam through a haze of pleasure, clinging to some shred of reality all around me.

  I clenched around him and felt him twitch and grab my hips, rocking into me.

  “Goddamn, Dagny,” he muttered, and I felt him shoot inside me.

  He bit and kissed my shoulder when it was over, lingering inside me as we both caught our breath.

  My body mourned his absence as soon as he pulled out of me.

  We lay on the bed, chests heaving, limbs strewn on top of each other.

  “So,” I said. “One more?”

  He nodded. “One more.”

  “I’ll go get the wine so we can rehydrate.”

  “Good idea.”

  After slinking off the bed, I tiptoed into the main room with the couch, grabbed the bottle of wine, and picked up our two glasses.

  I tilted my head a little, noticing what was on TV: lions doing their procreation dance.

  Shaking it off, I headed into the bedroom for me and Sam’s own little thing.

  When I woke up in the morning, I rolled over and felt warmth on the pillows, as well as a note.

  Thanks, D. This was fun. Maybe I’ll see you in the bar again sometime.

  -S

  Chapter 4

  Sam

  Smiling when I woke, I sat up in bed and stared at her for a moment.

  Gorgeous red hair.

  Smooth skin.

  Capable of all the tender love of the night.

  And she’d been mine for the night.

  Flipping the covers off my legs, I watched her chest rise and fall.

  This was what Dagny wanted.

  And goddamnit, I loved her and I was going to give it to her.

  I scribbled a note on a piece of the hotel stationery and put it on my pillow.

  I gathered my clothes, efficiently packed my briefcase, and left.

  I have a confession to make.

  I lied to you. Thing is, I really like getting in character when Haley—a.k.a. Dagny—and I have one of our “New York nights” as we call them.

  Dagny’s daughter is actually our daughter.

  And we’re not separated.

  Hell, my name isn’t even Sam.

  It’s Liam.

  Haley and I just wanted to role-play for a night.

  She always wanted to be picked up by an anonymous, sexy businessman in New York and have a one-night stand with him.

  I didn’t grow up in New York.

  Nowhere even close to it.

  I grew up in a small town in the Midwest, Blackwell.

  In Blackwell, truth was stranger than fiction, cornstalks grew taller than basketball players, and everyone knew everyone’s name.

  I felt crammed in by the skyscrapers as I walked through the lonely streets of New York.

  So many people, yet so few souls I knew.

  So few I could connect with.

  Dagny and I connected in a way I’d never know anyone else.

  And we’d always be on a special level with each other.

  I smiled as I boarded the plane at JFK Airport. When I touched down, I ordered a cab back to my house in Blackwell.

  Fuck if my wife, Dagny, hadn’t somehow beat me home.

  Well, her real name is Haley. But I like to call her Dagny, my way of teasing her for being my Dirty-Ass Girl from New York.

  Yeah. We have fun with our inside jokes.

  She’d picked up our kid, who’d been staying with my grandparents. When I arrived home, Dagny was waiting in the doorway with our little daughter.

  “Well, if it isn’t Liam Blackwell, home from his trip to the city. We were starting to get worried about you.”

  I smiled as I picked up my daughter and kissed her.

  “Where were you, Daddy?” she asked me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  Holding my baby in my arms, I took hold of a lock of my wife’s thick red hair.

  “Sometimes, honey, Daddy has to go play in New York for a weekend.”

  “Why do Mommy and Daddy have to play during the same weekend?”

  “What, you don’t like going to your grandparents?” my wife cut in.

  I kissed her on the nose, and we all three hugged at once.

  “I like it when you’re here.”

  “Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.”

  Our dog ran into the room, and our daughter ran away toward the pup.

  Leaning forward, I nibbled at Haley’s ear.

  “Dagny, see what your role-playing stuff is doing to our kid? It’s tearing our family apart.”

  A smile tugged at my lips.

  “I guess we’ll have to keep our next role-playing session local. Although, I did enjoy the city backdrop for our night away this time.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows, then set down my daughter. She ran inside when the dog chased after her.

  Wrapping my hands around Haley’s hips, I pulled her to me.

  “Maybe we should just stick to me being your mechanic.”

  She swallowed, breathing hard. “Maybe.”

  “Just maybe?”

  “Well, all right.”

  Her hand drifted down and grazed my hard length, making me twitch.

  “You do have the tools to make my engine purr, after all.”

  About Mickey Miller

  Mickey Miller is a romance author from Chicago, Illinois. His 'dom-coms' will make you blush as often as they make you laugh out loud. He enjoys connecting with fans "Mickey's Misfits" via his Dirty Thursday live feeds and "co-writing" over-the-top romance stories with them. When he's not writing, he plays guitar and sings in his band, the Dooley Band.

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  Chapter 1

  Coconino National Forest, Northern Arizona, seven years ago

  It was a brazen move, slipping Ben that note. If my brother had seen me, I would have been mortified. To this day, my little brother, Carter, thinks I’m pure as the driven snow, silly boy. But I couldn’t resist. Ben is just too freaking beautiful. Around six foot four, I’d estimate. Chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. A chiseled jaw and cheekbones to die for. Scrumptious, kissable, suckable, bitable lips. Add the fact that he’s got that sexy Aussie accent on top of it all? Good lord, he’s ir
resistible. And it’s not like I’ll ever see the boy again. I’m visiting my younger brother for the weekend at his college and Ben is his semester-abroad roommate who’s heading back to Oz in a couple weeks. And so, fuck it. I went after what I wanted. I slipped Ben a note as everyone was getting settled around the campfire and then watched him open the folded paper as everyone around me chatted and laughed and started singing songs while my clueless brother played his guitar and stared at his girlfriend’s boobs.

  Feel free to come to my tent tonight after my brother and everyone else have gone to sleep. No-strings fun. Bring a condom. Kaylee

  That’s what I wrote to Ben on that note and then slipped it into his palm before taking a seat across from him at the campfire. And ever since that little scrap of paper left my hand, my heart has been thumping.

  I watched as Ben unfolded the note, my nipples hardening with excitement. And when he looked up from the paper and shot me a smoldering look across the flickering flames, my heart stopped. Ben’s look in that moment told me he’d not only come to my tent tonight, it told me he’d be coming to me with bells on. Or, rather, a big, throbbing Australian hard-on. It was in that moment I knew Ben was exactly what I’d imagined he was—a dude with a big dick he knows exactly how to use to maximum effect.

  And now, I’m stuffed into my warm sleeping bag in my little pup tent, listening to the sounds of crickets and wind whispering and lizards and rabbits rustling in the surrounding bushes and trees. And every little sound, every movement of the fauna, makes goose bumps erupt on my toasty warm skin. Was that last sound Ben? What about that one? Or is he not coming at all? Did that smolder he shot me over the flickering flames mean he’s aroused by my sexual assertiveness . . . or repelled by it?

  My breathing shallow and my heart pounding, I wait in my sleeping bag for Ben. I’m naked and touching myself. Wet. Ready. But just when I’m on the cusp of reaching orgasm, I hear a footfall outside my tent that makes me freeze. I grab my phone next to my sleeping bag and push a button to illuminate the screen, filling my small tent with dim light.