An Alpha's Desire

by Amarie Avant

  The palm of my hand glides along a smooth, ebony surface. The scent is enticing, yet I give a tiny sneeze.

  “Bless you.”

  “Thanks.” I glance over my shoulder at Daniel and realize that tears have gathered in my eyes, blurring his beauty.

  Oh, auntie Azalea, I have fallen so far over this man. There is no antidote.

  I gingerly touch the side of my palm against my eyelashes to catch the waterworks so as not to smear mascara. Then on my heels I go, doing a 360 of the room. There's an ebony staircase in one corner, and a half-finished wood accent table that my mother would rave about even in its current state. There are other pieces of woodwork that are in various stages of being complete. Now I understand the connection to the trees he mentioned at the beginning of touring the home.

  “This place is simply beautiful.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Damn you, don't be smug.” I chortle and catch more flowing tears.

  “I'm not boasting, not at all. I love ebony. Doesn't take much to enhance its beauty.” He steps before me.

  Are we talking about the wood or … me? Daniel’s eyes are locked onto mine.

  “So, you weren't joking about the trees. You have ebony trees here, and that's the reason you bought the land and had the home built.”

  “Yes. I assisted with the building as well.”

  I grab his hands. “I see why your hands aren't icky silky. I can't stand a man whose hands are softer than mine.”

  Daniel’s fingers move through mine until they're in the position to twirl me around. “You love a man who can always exceed your expectations, blow your mind; who understands your beauty.”

  As he twirls me around, the beauty that was created by his own hands overwhelms me. Daniel places his rough fingers against my jaw. “You’ve become my most prized possession, Desire.”

  In this instant, he’s shed away all the doubt that threatened to consume me.

  “Keep your eyes on me.”

  Daniel reaches between us. He doesn’t grab my lady parts like he owns me as usual. But the ownership is set in concrete. He slides his hand between my thighs, fingertips grazing the silkiest part of my thick thighs. I stop breathing, waiting for his fingers to ascend. To feel how wet I am for him. Instead, Daniel takes ahold of the hem of my dress.

  “Do not take your eyes off of me.” His tone is on the cusp of nurturing and commanding.

  I lose myself in the gray pools of his gaze. Our eye contact only breaks as he pulls the dress over my shoulders and from atop my head. Then Daniel’s hard body is pressed against mine. God, I want him naked, skin to skin. But I feel as if I shouldn’t speak.

  I cannot speak. His palm slides to the center of my breasts before he unhooks the front bra clasps. Then he removes the lace bra. His hands go back to my breasts, my nipples hard against his palms as he massages them. Is he aware that my heartbeat is skyrocketing, beating wildly against his hands? That I love him and am too fucking scared to say as much?

  I moan.

  “Don’t close your eyes, beautiful,” Daniel says. “It probably is corny,” his chuckle is so sexy, “but that chocolate brown gaze of yours reminds me of the ebony wood. I love that about you. Your eyes.”

  Everything in me desires to speak up, to tell him that he isn’t corny. So far from it. But if I utter anything, it will be my love for him. And somewhere in the back of my mind, The Madame Azalea has words for me. Mean, reprimanding words.

  “I’m gonna love you now,” he says. “No tensing. Continue to concentrate on me.”

  I don’t understand what Daniel means until he falls to his knees before me. I clasp a fist full of his blond hair as he removes my panties, one foot at a time.

  Daniel’s hand skims down my calf and in one fluid motion, my leg is over his shoulder. He growls; it’s low, barbaric, hunger. His long fingers stroke the thick globes of my ass cheeks. The warmth from his lips against my exposed mound leaves me vulnerable, until he reaches out and licks my labia. His lips feast off my sex, tongue sliding across my slick inner lips. My hips jerk and buck in response to the attention he gives to my clit, tongue now circling around it.

  Sweet salt trickles into my mouth and I realize I’ve started to cry.

  Daniel

  The thick lips of Desire’s pussy blooms for me. My tongue delves into the sweetness she has offered.

  My cock is saluting this black queen, my love. Erection pressed against my pants, ready to show her love too. Her heavenly moans have my dick leaking precum. I squeeze at her thigh hooked over my shoulder, and plant my face further against her, nose nudging her clit and tongue pressed deep into her sweets.

  At the sound of whimpering, I cease. I glance up at Desire. Those gorgeous eyes are alight with tears.

  I wipe her from my mouth, place her leg down, and stand. Desire falters. I’m there to catch her; I always will.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes close in embarrassment.

  “What is wrong, Desire?” I almost wince. My tenor is hard, but I must know.

  She opens her eyes and wipes away tears with the back of her hand. “Daniel, I was so wrong about you.”

  My mouth skims over a river of tears flowing down Desire's cheeks. She can’t stop herself from crying, but she smiles through the tears.

  “Don’t cry, beautiful. Please don’t.”

  “But I’m happy,” she says.

  I nod. I unbuckle my belt, and pull down my pants and boxers to my ankles. With my Italian loafers on, I’m too fucking focused to remove my pants all the way.

  I grip as much of Desire’s ass as I can, and her legs spread around my waist. Damn, I almost close my fucking eyes. Her pussy slides straight down onto my shaft. The ease. The tight-ass fit. The slippery goodness. Shit, I concentrate on not exploding in her right now.

  I force my toes underneath. The tension helps me from caving, from releasing like a bitch. My biceps pump her up and down.

  “Daniel, fuck, fuck, I l… Daniel!” she screams.

  Desire bounces on my dick until her pussy has anointed my cock with her come. After her second orgasm, Desire liquefies against me. Her face nuzzles into my neck. I use my muscles to lift up.

  “Ahhh,” Desire screams as she is tossed toward the vaulted ceilings. My mouth is glued to her pussy yet again.

  “Daniel?” This time her voice is hesitant as her legs wrap around my shoulders and ears.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I have you,” I tell her.

  She doesn’t leave much breathing room for fear.

  I glance up at her. “Des, I have you.”

  Her legs untwine somewhat.

  Feet planted wide, I French kiss her treasure while squeezing her ass. While clinging to me for dear life, Desire’s hips grind on me with such an erotic, slow movement. Then she becomes awkward and self-aware of how high she is once again. I taste the honey glazed against her pussy once more, just enough to satiate me as I decide to stop torturing her. Desire tenses as I begin to walk. I move her toward the wooden stairs that I began to design one day on a whim and leisurely place her down about five steps up. Those shiny eyes are no longer wet with tears or bright with the fear of height, but glimmering with craving. I move myself between her legs, knowing that too much pressure against her will place too much pressure against her back on the stairs. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place to go.

  But Desire locks her arms around my neck, licking her lips. I gradually drive my cock into her core, then out, and then gliding into her, aware of how each bit of her valley feels. She rocks her hips as I once more take to her mouth. I groan against her swollen, kissed lips.

  Shit, I’m addicted to her. I fucking love her. This will be the first time I’ve come so quickly. My dick continues to taste her ever so soft, so slow.

  “Come in me, Daniel. Come inside of me,” she supplicates my desires. “I’m coming, baby.”

  I come. Hard.

  ###

  I reach over, half dazed
from loving Desire while slumbering and though I feel something soft, the curvature is not quite right. My fingers grip into the goose pillow before shoving it off the bed.

  A boisterous chortle starts from the doorway. Peeling my eyes open, I see Desire standing there. She has this bad habit of wearing my button ups. Instead of the linen stopping at the apple of her ass, it grazes just past the perfect mound of pussy and a wide set of hips.

  “So, it has come to this?” Her tone is exaggerated though eyes twinkling.

  “What?”

  “You were cuddling with that pillow. Then I walk in and you push it aside like it’s a three dollar hooker off PCH.”

  “PCH?”

  “Pacific Coast Highway. When I was a kid, there were endless jokes about prostitutes and PCH.” She shrugs.

  “Why'd you get out of bed? I'm cold. Get back in here.”

  “No, you're not.” She shakes her head. “The entire house has a brain. And it understands exactly what temperature you prefer and when you’d prefer it.”

  “Listen, sweetheart, stop listening to everything I say—if I give you an alternative command. So, like I said, I am cold. I need those ham hocks to warm me up.”

  Her upper lip curls. “First of all, what do you know about ham hocks? Secondly, I was cooking grits and those go perfect with a side of revenge for talking about me.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, I did. Grits and maple bacon. Scrambled eggs…” she licks her lips, listing off food that sends a wave of a rumble over my abdominals.

  “And your proper response is not ‘yes, I did.’ You are to always address me as master.”

  “Boy if you want to eat…” Desire begins. She has already turned on her heels, running out of the room. “…then act like you have the sense your mama gave you.”

  I'm out of the bed in seconds, laughing as I go. “You will be meeting my mama, Odessa, soon.” And we are grooming you for submission.

  I fly down stairs two and three at a time, catching her before she reaches the middle landing. “But I'll let her know what you've just said about her favorite.”

  Silk and soft is the side of her cheek as I bestow a kiss on it.

  “I bet you're everyone's favorite in that egocentric brain of yours.” Desire sashays to the dining room and lifts up a silver dome. “This is the food you aren’t allowed to eat if you keep insisting I call you master. That shit isn't gonna fly. So, do you want to eat or no?”

  “Hell yeah. I'm hungry. All right, you don't have to call me master until I'm eating you.”

  We sink down into the chairs. We’ve just started eating when my phone chimes. At Juliet’s frizzy hair, I accept the call.

  “Surprise, Goldie! I'm here!”

  “Goldie?” Desire arches an eyebrow. “I'm not the only one.” She begins to shake her head, mentioning how shocking it is to know her new nickname for me has already been taken.

  Baffled, I speak into the phone. “You're he—”

  “Hey, who is that?” Juliet cut in. “Can't tell me you're busy working, Daniel. Come pick us up.”

  “It's the lovely Ms. Taylor. And who is we?”

  My kid sister gushes in my ear. “This is going to be awesome!”

  CLICK. The phone goes silent. My sister sucks with social cues, but she’s fucking with me. I know it.

  “Jules…?” Desire smiles. “Your sister! I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Fuck me, I'll have to share the meatloaf.”

  “Meatloaf?” Desire's chin tilts somewhat.

  I rub my eyebrow in thought of my kid sister’s impromptu visit. “Tell you about it later.”

  Desire

  Well, there's at least one familiar face when we arrive at Titan Aerospace. The sexy Japanese guy, Lee, is wearing a Hollister sleeveless shirt with palm trees on it and khaki shorts which stop at porcelain-colored knees. His alluring tight eyes are alight with mischief as he wraps his arm around a young, barely twenty something woman who cannot be Juliet Rutledge.

  She simply cannot be Daniel's little sister.

  Recall my mention about a heavy dose of melatonin? Yeah, well, this chick is a beautiful honey brown hue. Yet, she has the same golden hair color as Daniel’s. Each long, lustrous tress has an ethnic level of shrinkage, a thick, heart-shaped set of lips, and that darn sweetheart face Niecy told me to embrace while cutting off masses and masses of my hair when I went to college and couldn't give a damn about designating much time to my hair.

  Juliet’s hair bounds up and down as she runs into Daniel’s arms. Daniel prepares himself for the petite linebacker.

  “Desire.” Lee gestures toward me with a polite nod and smile.

  “You remembered.” I offer him a quick, awkward hug as Juliet’s energy has rubbed off on me. The instant we pull away from the friendly embrace, Juliet bulldozes into my arms. The tight smile I snarl at Daniel is like an old wife to her ornery and equally old husband, forcing him to play nice with Lee or else.

  Daniel’s smile is sharp, pristine, and damn it as erotic as it is scary. He clasps Lee’s hand. “What a helluva surprise.”

  “Yes, it is.” Juliet leans her head on her big brother’s shoulder. “You’ve yet to surprise me. But seeing that you've surprised my fiancé in the past, I thought we'd even the score.”

  “Fiancé?” His chiseled jaw is rigid.

  While they stand so close, I determine that besides being dipped in caramel, and the thicker hair, Juliet does look just like her brother. But there's no coming up to your own conclusion here. Her mother most definitely cheated on their father, Wentworth II, with a black man.

  “Fiancé?” Daniel’s tone is steely once more since nobody has spoken up.

  Juliet holds up her right hand. A platinum band, no stones big or small, is splayed on her engagement finger.

  “Enchanting,” I say, gingerly taking her hands. Having never been a touchy-feely person in my life, I wonder if it's her rubbing off on me.

  “That's what I said to Lee when he proposed. It is a rather enchanting ring,” Juliet notes.

  “How did this proposal come about?” Daniel inquires with just a touch of emotion, though fire is brimming in his veins.

  Lee happily begins, “I—”

  Juliet commanders the conversation, “Not here, Goldie. Let’s go to Mama Odessa’s house.”

  “Okay, Fathead.”

  My mouth cocks to the left at their sibling banter. Then it dawns on me that I've been extended an invitation to meet the most important woman in Daniel’s life. Lee gulps too.

  “You okay?” Daniel whispers while kissing my ear. His fingers glide through mine.

  “Shouldn't I be the one offering support to my buddy?” I give his hand a squeeze in an attempt to cushion the blow. “Your sister appears to be in love. Let’s set aside your embarrassing moment at the hibachi grill. You've already cleared Lee’s background, right?”

  I stifle a rude smile, reminiscing on how the dictator spat Terry's entire name just so I could have a gist to how aware he is.

  “Yeah, but Lee didn't have a single parking ticket.”

  “Humph. Is he perfect?” I arch an eyebrow. When Daniel stops walking and positions himself in a dominating stance, I look up at him and smile. “Kinda hurts when you're not the only perfect one.”

  His eyebrow furrows some. “This is not a joke, Des. That kid proposed to my sister. And I don't trust a man who is squeaky clean—”

  “So, we will keep an eye out.”

  Daniel’s mouth descends on my lips. The kiss is passionate, lips just ajar for the most minute, yet passionate taste. Then his minty breath teases my mouth. “I love ‘we.’” He runs a hand along my cheek. “But not just we in this situation, sweetheart. I'll have a team on it. I would also like for you to let me know any feelings of discomfort or—”

  “Hello!” Juliet calls. They're about thirty yards out. “You guys can fuck faces when we get to Mama’s. I'm hung-ray.”

  Daniel turns around a
nd I cannot sneak and inquire why he is so hard pressed to hate Lee because we're all hopping into his Range Rover. My initial stereotype of Lee’s status as beneath the Rutledge’s, well the breathing ones, is incorrect. Juliet appears to be in love. What gives?

  ###

  The ride to their old caregiver’s house is short. Daniel’s SUV meanders through a housing track that has seen newer days; perhaps not better, but newer nonetheless. The homes have a 1970s aura with vast lawns with the appropriate number of children's clutter. The houses have sturdy stone foundations, but each one is unique and unlike the cookie cutter neighborhood I live in.

  He maneuvers into a driveway next to a gigantic boat-sized Cadillac and mumbles about “her never putting the damn thing in the garage.”

  “So, are you staying with me or here? Should I pop the trunk?” Daniel asks his sister through the rear-view mirror.

  “You. Odessa will just harass me about wedding plans. I’d rather have a long engagement.”

  “That's the wisest idea you've had in a while, Jules.”

  The retort falls flat since Juliet is already ambling out of the car. Lee is on her heels, ready to do her bidding.

  As soon as the back doors close, I turn toward him. “I agree with you about the engagement. One to two years is an appropriate length, Daniel. But what's irritating you?”

  “I've already told you that I don't know anything about Lee Oshawa.”

  “Actually, you know him like a book. You've got stats, credit reports, previous junior high school grades,” I add, somewhat joking. It doesn't alleviate tension. I reach over to touch his shoulder. “But it's a good thing he's here, in the flesh, so you'll really be able to get to know him.”

  “Yeah, right. He's hiding something. For starters, why have such cryptic text messages? Why not tell Juliet he had to work—”

  “How about this? Perhaps he told Juliet where he was and not you because you and he weren't cool yet. I see it now. You came to visit your sister, but every turn, her new boyfriend is there. She might have wanted him there. And you weren’t ready nor did you offer him a chance. You were too busy reading his stats to get to know him. Control freak. Ease up on the micromanagement.”