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Fated: An Alpha Male Romance

Page 2

by Walker, K. Alex


  “I’m sure,” Grandma Evelyn replied, placing the cap on the pitcher. She slipped her gloves back over her hands. “You two unwind and enjoy. I’ll leave this right here.”

  “Hold on, I’ll get you a cab,” Ethan offered.

  She playfully swatted at him. “I’m a very capable woman, Ethan, but I do appreciate your chivalry.”

  She turned to me, winked as though we’d shared some hidden secret, and then left through my office door. Ethan and I now stood alone in the office, me behind my desk and him just on the other side. When he’d run back to his office to get the glasses, he’d slipped out of his white coat and was now standing in a blue button-up and grey slacks. His matching tie was slightly slackened, and his face had just the right amount of scruff to where the kids were never afraid of him, and the mothers wanted to scale all six-foot-two inches of him.

  “I always enjoy seeing your grandmother,” he said, tossing back a gulp of the punch. “But let her know that if she brings by any more of that peach cobbler she baked a couple months ago, I’m putting in an application to be your step-grandfather.”

  I burst out laughing and brought the glass to my mouth to chance a sip. A rush of magnificent sweetness rolled down the back of my throat. “Wow.”

  “I agree,” Ethan chimed in. He polished off his glass and poured a second. “This goes down pretty smooth. What kind of liquor’s in it? I mean, is there even any liquor in it? It doesn’t taste strong at all.”

  I finished my glass and extended my arm for a refill. “I don’t know. This is my first time ever tasting it.”

  We continued to drink until the pitcher was nearly empty. When I finished my final glass, he slipped the stem from my hand. Our fingers brushed again, but this time a charge raced down my body, nearly bowling me over.

  Honestly, I’ve had a thing for Ethan ever since I came to work with the Stewart and Associates Pediatric Group two years ago, but giving into my attraction was not exactly possible. So, this simply meant that I spent a lot of energy resisting the urge to touch myself whenever I fantasized about him, as well as fighting to keep a platonic distance between our bodies.

  As my mother told it, good women did not have wanton fantasies and absolutely never touched themselves in the “forbidden” place between their legs. I’d been perfectly fine being a “good woman” until Ethan came along, but ever since then, in my mind, he’d put me in more positions than the Kama Sutra.

  Ethan had the kind of natural charm that could pull you into work with a hundred-and-four degree fever, broken leg, and a missing chunk of ear. Ever since our very first casual conversation in the medical center’s hallway, our interaction was comfortable. I’d told him one of my traditional lame jokes that screamed, “I’m a sheltered general’s daughter,” and he’d laughed as though it had actually been funny.

  We occasionally had lunch together at the restaurants within walking distance of the center where he would sit across from me and train those sexy, smoky eyes on me, never missing a word that spilled from my mouth. We would exchange college stories while stealing food from each other’s plates. Once, I was enjoying a particularly good cup of butternut squash soup when I’d looked up and he’d just been smiling and staring at me. When I’d asked him what was wrong, he’d simply looked at my mouth and said I had soup at the corner of my lips. It was the only time in my entire existence that a man had looked as though he could, possibly, see me as a woman to be desired.

  While I’d known that there was nothing behind that look, and that he had probably been thinking about another woman at the time, it had still popped up in my dreams that night and I’d woken up with my hands inching into my underwear.

  The sound of Ethan placing the glasses on an end table in the far corner of the room pulled me back to the office, and when he turned around, his eyes landed on my breasts before they found my face again. That gesture alone caused a tennis ball size of warmth to begin collecting between my legs. In that instant, all of the “ice” that had collected there began a slow melt.

  “It’s definitely something,” he said, sounding slightly distracted. “The punch, I mean.”

  “It is,” I agreed.

  “Old secret family recipe? Didn’t Evelyn say the same thing about the cobbler?”

  “You and that cobbler,” I replied with a laugh. “And yeah, she did. But technically, Grandma Evelyn has a lot of those up her sleeve. She even has a lasagna dish that she claims is an old family recipe when our lineage isn’t even Italian.”

  He smiled and, though it could have been my imagination, his smoky eyes briefly lit up like a flash of lightning blazing across a cloudy sky. My gaze fell to his zipper, but I quickly stretched the muscles in my neck to pull it away before he noticed.

  “I think sitting in this chair all day made my shoulders tense,” I said instead, rubbing a fake sore spot on my neck. He strode over to the desk, his masculine gait more pronounced than it had been just a few seconds ago.

  “You’re tense?” He stepped around my desk, the only barrier that had been standing between our bodies. “Am I working you too hard?’

  Against any sense of judgment, I sat on top of the desk and granted him access to my shoulders. When he stepped closer and poised his hands over the fabric of my shirt, his scent wrapped around me like satin ribbons. My skin tingled in anticipation of his fingers and my thighs automatically squeezed together to suppress the erotic throbbing building between them. It was then that I realized what was happening: I was aroused. Hopelessly aroused. Nerve endings that I never even knew before existed were firing at a rapid pace.

  The warmth of his hands closed over my skin and the bulb between my legs answered as though it had been asked a question. My nipples began pressing against my bra with enough force to break glass, and my lungs pushed out quick bursts of air to keep up with the demands of the blood rushing through my system.

  I wanted to rock on top of the desk to soothe my aching arousal. I wanted to turn around and plant my lips against his. I wanted to maneuver my fingers through his hair at the nape and suck his tongue into my mouth, and I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist as he entered me, stretching and filling me with his length.

  This thing that I was feeling was something different from my usual passing attraction. This was untamed arousal. My center was actually aching, crying out to be joined with the appendage between his legs and I knew that I had to get the horse back in the gate, quickly, before I embarrassed myself.

  But, as I thought about that thick appendage, my mouth began to water.

  -----

  Ethan

  My hands were on Alexandra’s shoulders but my eyes had traveled down her back to the curvature of her ass on the desk. Alexandra Miller had the type of body that I loved — soft, womanly curves that I, more than once, imagined sinking my fingers into as I very slowly entered her from behind. Then, she had the kind of smooth skin that I could kiss and lick all over as she grabbed my hair and screamed in response. Although these thoughts weren’t very far from what I usually thought whenever I made up excuse after excuse to walk up to her office, my dick was being disobedient on this particular evening.

  Very disobedient.

  I wanted to fuck the soul out of this woman.

  My attraction to Alexandra has pretty much existed ever since the first time I’d laid eyes on her. Although I’d known for months that one of the daughters of the esteemed General James Miller had requested to join our team at the center to assist us in coordinating our community-based initiatives, seeing her in person had been a different story. She’d been wearing her hair pulled up and away from her face and had tried to cover up in a black pencil skirt, matching suit jacket, and plain dress shirt. However, I could spot a curve in a straight line and Alexandra had plenty of them.

  The first time that we had a chance to really talk, I’d half-expected to be brushed off as beneath her societal status despite the MD that followed my name. Instead, her dark, intense eyes had cooled to a l
ighter shade of brown as she shook my hand. She’d made a corny joke about the light rain outside, which brought my attention to the cute curve of her mouth when she laughed. Ever since then, I stopped by her office every day just to find a way to make her laugh. Most of the time, more than once. If that’s not some crazy shit, then I don’t know what is.

  Despite my desire to fuck her seven ways ‘til Sunday, she kept me at a professional distance, which I respected. I wasn’t the kind of man to overstep a woman’s boundaries and it seemed kind of pointless to keep pursuing past a “no” when I was so good at getting them to scream, “yes.”

  My fingers made even strokes along her shoulders, and she moved her head from side to side to loosen her neck. At the same time, she made a quiet moaning noise that forced me to use all of my willpower not to tug down the zipper of her black skirt.

  “That feels amazing, Dr. Stewart,” she said in a voice that spoke directly to the swell in my pants.

  “If you’d like, I can refer you to a colleague of mine,” I offered. “He’s been practicing chiropractic medicine for at least a decade now. You wouldn’t want a little bit of back pain to turn into anything long-term.”

  She shifted on the desk and a now visible bulge greeted me from the region of my zipper. All she had to do was turn slightly to her right to spot my arousal. I was literally inches away from a sexual harassment suit.

  “Ethan?”

  The sound of my first name finally rippling from between her soft lips made my chest tight. My mind rustled through a list of women’s names in my contact list who I knew would agree to come down to the office to take the edge off of my growing cock, but even as I narrowed on a possible selection, I still only wanted the woman sitting in front of me.

  “What happened to Dr. Stewart?” I asked, lust oozing from my voice like raw honey.

  She reached back, touched my hand moving over her shoulders, and then popped up from the desk as though the contact had jolted her. She moved past me, bolting across the room until she was just a few inches from the door, and I quickly slinked behind her computer monitor hoping that she hadn’t spotted my very obvious erection. When she looked down at the front of my pants and then back up at me, I realized that it was too late.

  “What is happening?” she asked, taking a few more steps backwards until the weight of her body pressed the door closed. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and I wanted to pull them into my mouth, now plump and flushed from her mild torture.

  I feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that.” Her eyes fell and she pointed to my stubborn dick still bulging against my pants. “You. Me.”

  Whatever was going on between us, she was feeling it too.

  “You mean why I can’t stop myself from thinking about how much I want to fuck you right now?” I asked, taking the plunge.

  Her eyes flickered at the word fuck, the supposed crassness of it. I was a man that had been educated at Johns Hopkins, which housed one of the top medical schools in the nation. I can play Chopin on a grand piano as though it were Chopsticks. I’ve read Balzac and Thoreau. I wasn’t supposed to use words like that. But, unlike Alexandra, that wasn’t the life that I was given. That was the life that I’d built.

  She rocked against the wall and I felt my heel lift from the ground. Although desire had nearly obscured her beautiful honey-brown spheres which I tried, very hard, not to lose time in, I still needed to hear her say it.

  “I don’t feel like I can fight it, Ethan,” she responded. Then, I heard the lock in the door click as it turned.

  I was actually supposed to respond with, “then don’t,” but I was across the room before the words had a chance to navigate their way out of my mouth. She reached out, ripped open my shirt, and buttons scattered across the room. I tore through the fabric of her bra and the most gorgeous golden-brown breasts spilled out into my palms. I bent and pulled one into my mouth while filling my hand with the other soft mound. My tongue flicked over her firm nipple and she cried out as though it was the first time anyone had ever tasted the sweet bud.

  She rubbed her legs together and with every touch of my tongue, quiet gasps snuck from between her lips. I moved to the other breast and her back arched, pushing its doughy fullness further into my mouth. She began moving her hands down to wrap around my neck but then quickly pulled them away. I reached for them and pulled them back; I didn’t want her afraid to touch me for any reason.

  I rubbed her moistened nipple between my fingers and kissed a trail down the middle of her stomach, tugging her skirt downward and taking her panties along with it. I half-expected to find her wearing white cotton briefs that came up all the way to her navel, but instead, her panties reminded me of a satiny, black bikini bottom topped with sheer lace.

  She delicately stepped out of them, her initial shyness and reluctance beginning to fade. But, as I came face to face with her wet, throbbing pussy, her legs automatically began to close and her hands moved between her thighs to block my pursuit. I gently grabbed her wrists and moved them away.

  “Alexandra…” I trained my eyes on her waxed mons. “Let me taste you.”

  Her eyes immediately went from dawn to midnight. An uncertain tremor rippled along her throat, and her chest anxiously heaved as she fought against the same desire that I was sure was mirrored in my own eyes. I wanted to make those beautiful eyes go even darker by parting her lips with my tongue, and teasing her clit until her moans broke free from their confinement. I wanted her to be dissolved and undone while I lavished in the taste of her agony.

  I planted a kiss along her inner thigh and when actual goose bumps sprinkled her skin, it made me wonder —briefly— about the inexperience of the man who’d touched this woman before me. He’d probably been the type to do just enough to get his dick hard, fuck her until he came, and then blame her for not having her own orgasm.

  Slowly, she withdrew her trembling hands and I leaned forward, sliding my tongue along her slit. Her eyes lowered and her head fell back against the door. I teased my hand between her thighs, stroked her clit with my thumb, and slipped a finger inside of her, bringing forward a gasp that caused my dick to harden even more. Her hips began to move as she rode my finger, but as though she’d decided to once again give in to her embarrassment, she stopped.

  I placed another kiss against her thigh. “Put your leg on my shoulder, Alexandra.”

  Her leg slowly lifted onto my shoulder and I ran my tongue along her slit a second time. Then, with a satisfied grin, I dove into her pussy.

  Her clit throbbed for attention and I pulled it between my lips, wrapping my tongue around the bud and sucking it until her body rocked with pleasure. Her fingers threaded my hair and I used my tongue to tease her folds before covering her pussy with my mouth. When she whispered a quiet “Oh…shit…Ethan,” I knew that there would be no more resisting for the rest of the evening.

  She was incredibly sweet and I drank her in like a man dying of thirst. Then, I fucked her with my tongue until she vibrated against the door. As much as I knew my way around a woman’s body, I’d never experienced anything like Alexandra before. I was as hard as stone. My head fogged as I grew inebriated on her sweetness.

  I flicked my tongue over her clit and her hips bucked, shoving her pussy against my mouth. My fingers slipped back inside of her tightness and I tugged on her clit with a force that Dyson would want to patent, pressing against the area inside her that would give me the pleasure of watching her thrash with an earth-shattering orgasm. With my other hand, I lifted her leg higher so that she was completely open to me. Completely open for me.

  Her breaths started dashing from between her lips at a racing speed. Her hips rocked harder against my mouth. I could feel the pressure of her orgasm building inside of her. Then, she started to cry out but covered her mouth as the ripples of her climax gently gripped my fingers. The feeling of her orgasm surged through me like a monumental accomplishment, but with the way her body shivered, I wasn�
�t sure that she could handle much more.

  Her eyes opened and she looked down at me, immediately showing me that I was wrong.

  She grabbed the back of my head, pulled me up, and pressed my lips to hers. Her tongue darted around my mouth as she took in the remnants of her taste. There was so much more that I wanted to do to this woman, so much more that I wanted to show her, but that would have to wait until next time. I knew I was being a cocky son of a bitch by assuming that there would be a next time, but at that point, it was hard to imagine why there wouldn’t be. Right now, I needed to be inside of her.

  I picked her up, my tongue still battling with hers, walked her over to the desk, and sat her on top of it while quickly grabbing a condom from my wallet.

  Suddenly egged on by a moment of boldness, she reached for my belt, unlatching hooks and buttons until my solid erection was released. Then, she stared with round, curious eyes as though she’d never before seen a cock.

  “You’re so…large,” she commented, angling her head.

  “I won’t hurt you,” I promised.

  She glanced up at me. “I trust you.”

  It was the quickest that I’d ever sheathed latex in my life.

  Her curious gaze went back to my dick until I rubbed a flat thumb along her clit. Then, she tossed her head back while I positioned my cockhead against her opening before carefully sliding inside of her. When I’d finally fit as much of my thick, sheathed length inside of her as I could, a gasp rushed from her lips as though she’d been holding her breath in anticipation of my dick the entire time…and I fucking lost it.

  I grabbed her hips and groaned as I tried not to fuck her too hard. I found myself recalling the way she’d warily eyed my dick just a few moments before. But, her pussy had what I can only describe as an exquisite combination of wet, warm and tight that threatened to pull the nut right out of me before I was ready. The shit was insane. I wanted to make her come, hard, to make up for all the times I was sure that she hadn’t, but I’d underestimated what I was getting myself into. I’d spent over a year lusting after a woman who I’d assumed only wanted to keep me at a professional distance, so it was no wonder that I was so imbibed with lust I could barely see straight.

 

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