Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

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Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2) Page 7

by Jo Raven


  He pulls back slightly and grins against my mouth. Then he lets go of my wrist and wraps his arms around me. He nuzzles my ear. “That was beautiful,” he whispers.

  I pant against his neck, inhaling his light scent of musk and ink. I lower my leg and lean against the wall, my arms loosely draped around his hips. My body is still humming with pleasure, my muscles heavy and loose. I’m not sure I can stay upright if he releases me.

  As if sensing that, he stays like that for a while, holding me close. “Okay?” he breathes and I shiver.

  He’s still rock-hard where he presses into me. The shape of his cock is so perfectly outlined through his pants that I think he may be going commando underneath. My breath catches at the thought.

  I slide my hands to his back, then lower, cupping his round, muscled ass cheeks and giving them a light squeeze.

  A gasp escapes him, and his erection jumps between us. “Ev...”

  God, the way he speaks my name is like sex. It makes me reckless. After all, I just came from rubbing against him, pressed to the wall.

  I push his pants down. After a few seconds of shocked stillness, he takes over, shoving them down his legs and stepping out of them. He stands completely naked in front of me, and he’s gorgeous. Perfect. Built like a statue.

  His cock juts up, flushed and wet, and my mouth waters. I’ve never gone down on anyone without a condom, but I want to taste him so much it’s like a craving. Maybe it’s his scent, so delicious.

  When I start going down to my knees, though, he grips my under the arms and stops me. “Your leg,” he whispers, his breathing ragged.

  “But I want to,” I whisper back and he grins.

  “Sofa,” he says and tugs me along.

  We fall on the sofa together. I think he’ll sit back and let me do what I want, but it seems he has other ideas. He pushes me to lie down and leans over me, strands of blond hair falling into his eyes. They’ve turned a midnight blue, dark and hypnotizing.

  “I’ve dreamed of this,” he says quietly, “for so long.”

  And when I open my mouth to ask what he means—we’ve only recently met—he tugs down my pants and panties. He glances at my scarred leg and knee—a quick, interested look—and then reaches up and pushes off the straps of my bra, freeing my breasts.

  “Holy shit,” he mutters, his voice hushed. “Fuck, Ev. You’re so goddamn sexy.”

  I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me like that. Before I can process the way his heated gaze glides over me, he leans in and closes his mouth over one nipple.

  Oh God. Lightning hits my core, and I arch off the sofa. It doesn’t seem possible that I want more, but I do. I make an incoherent noise in the back of my throat and grab his shoulders, pulling him to me. I need to kiss him more.

  “I want to taste you,” I murmur against his lips, but he shakes his head. He lowers himself, planting his hands on either side of my head, and his hardness slides on my stomach, hot like fire.

  “I won’t last two seconds,” he says. “I want you so fucking much. I’m...”

  Breathless, I reach between us for his cock and wrap my hand around it. So thick and hard, silky, with a core of steel.

  “Oh shit.” He makes a growling sound at the back of his throat, and his eyes close. He thrusts into my hand, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The muscles in his chest ripple, his abs tighten. Moisture leaks from the tip of his cock, coating my fingers.

  His eyes flutter open and stare right into mine. He snaps his hips, and I feel his hard flesh pulse in my hand. It’s an amazing feeling, sensing the orgasm rise in him. I reach with my other hand and touch his balls, large and drawn close to the base of his erection. I’ve never dared do such things before, but he’s so beautiful. My hand cups his sack, and his face twists in a grimace like pain.

  “Say my name,” he gasps. “Say my name, Ev...”

  “Micah,” I whisper, wondering why he needs this to go over the edge, but powerless to deny him whatever he wants. “Micah.”

  “Fuck,” he grunts and drives his pulsing cock into my hand. “Fuck, oh fuck...”

  I can feel his balls lift, and his hard-on jerks in my hold, releasing ribbons of white cum. They splash my breasts, my throat, and he groans as his orgasm crests and then tapers off, his cock softening.

  His arms tremble and he sinks on top of me, heavy and boneless. His head is on my breasts and I place a hand on his short, silky hair.

  “I’m crushing you,” he mumbles after a moment and slides to my side. “Shit.”

  “I’m okay.”

  He reaches over me and blindly fishes for the box of tissues on the table. He pulls out a couple tissues to clean me up, and his eyes darken again.

  “Dammit.” He trails a finger down my neck. “Can’t fucking believe I came like that, just from your touch, like a horny teenager.”

  “Actually,” I say, and my face heats. “I thought that was kinda hot.”

  Oh God, I really do think that. I loved holding him, touching him as he came. Knowing I did that to him, brought him over the edge and gave him pleasure. And I even like the fact he came on me. It’s as if he marked me. Why do I like the thought so much?

  He looks pleased. A faint smile pulls at his lips. “You’re...” He shakes his head.

  “What?”

  “Unexpected.” He rests on his side, his cheek in his hand, gorgeously naked and relaxed. Fine stubble covers his jaw, glinting in the low light like gold dust.

  “In a good way, I hope.” I’m already drifting off, a pleasant darkness seeping into my thoughts, when I think he whispers something into my ear.

  “The best.”

  At least that’s what I think I hear, and my silly heart gives a little skip. I sigh and turn on my side, cradling my head in my hand. It sure is a nice dream.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MICAH

  The darkness is broken by a flickering bulb, illuminating patches of black mold on the walls. The air reeks of old, sour sweat and the heavy breaths of too many kids stuffed in a tiny room. Some are snoring, curled together on the three narrow beds and the worn carpet. Others are sitting with their backs to the wall.

  I walk among them, moving forward but going nowhere. I’m trapped. There’s no oxygen. No future.

  The room tilts and shifts, leaving me disoriented. I’m on a long staircase, going up. I have no other choice. The darkness has changed, filled with hateful eyes, and they’re waiting for me.

  Footsteps follow me, and I try to climb faster, but I can’t. Time slows to compensate for my efforts, pulling on my limbs like hardening glue, so that I struggle and pant and rage. I try to shout for help, but I can’t breathe, can’t speak. Others are waiting for me at the top of the stairs, and the footsteps behind me grow louder. Closer.

  My foot slips on the step, and I go down. I tumble into the darkness, right into the hands of my pursuers, and they grab me by the hair and drag me down. Kicks knock the breath out of me, and then their fists find me, punching all sense out of me. My body is a raw nerve, flayed bloody. Fire runs in my veins, scorching my flesh. A scream dies in my throat, never making it out, as I arch and twist and struggle to escape the pain.

  “Micah.” A sweet woman’s voice, calling my name, and I reach for it like a ray of light in the dark. “Micah!”

  The darkness dissipates. Brightness stings my eyes, and I groan, trying to turn my head away when I realize I’m lying on the sofa on my back, an arm flung over my head, and a girl is sitting next to me.

  A naked girl. A very pretty naked girl, with her hand on my bare chest.

  “Ev,” I croak as it all comes back to me—the knock on my door, her appearance, the kiss, the almost-sex... The nightmare. A cough rattles in my chest, and I turn my head and smother it on my arm.

  Her hazel eyes are wide, her face pale.

  Goddammit, I scared her. Of course I did. Nobody should see me as I claw my way out of this nightmare, this mishmash of memories from the last two grou
p homes I lived in. It was a fucking hell, and I ran away many times, ending up on the streets. Being on the streets was safer, although the cold and hunger always won out, sending me back into the system.

  “Micah?”

  I realize she’s watching me, warily, as if not sure whether I might bite.

  Truth is, I don’t know either. I need a few moments to get my head straight, get my shit together. To talk myself out of falling back into the memory and howling like a wounded animal. Images crowd the edges of my vision, fragments of nightmare and memories, leering faces, taunting voices.

  I have to get out.

  But she’s leaning over me, her small face concerned, her hand on my chest, over my pounding heart.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice low, soothing.

  I can’t reply, can’t move. I can barely breathe, because I need to punch something or someone, and she’s too close, right in the danger zone. My fists clench at my sides as I try to keep from bolting upright, as I try to control every twitching muscle. A tremor goes through me.

  The living room is cast in pale light and shadow. It’s still day-time outside. Later afternoon. Looks like I didn’t sleep for very long.

  She bends over me, her eyes filling my world. She’s so sweet—just like the night she saved my life, and I need to tell her that. Let her know who I really am, before we do more than get each other off.

  But not now, not when my mind is still spinning and a dark hole of depression is waiting to swallow me. Dammit. I sit up and swing my legs off the sofa. She grips my arm, but I shrug it off and rise unsteadily to my feet. I stagger across the living room, bumping into the coffee table, and make my way to the bathroom.

  The door bangs shut behind me, and I kick at it. Turning, I slam my fist into the tiled wall. The tile cracks.

  Fuck. I brace my hands on the sink and bow my head, letting out a shaky breath. And another. I’m okay. It’s okay. I repeat the words to myself until my breathing slows.

  But it’s not enough. So I step into the shower and turn on the hot water. Turning my face into the spray, I let it wash away the dream and the remembered fear. I run my hands through my hair, tugging, the tiny pinpricks of pain grounding me to the present.

  And goddammit, it’s still not enough. I want to smash my fist into things, break something, hear the crash and feel the damage.

  The muscles in my back and legs are coiled tight like springs. Bracing myself against the shower wall with one hand, I reach up and rub the back of my neck.

  I jerk when hands slip around my hips. I raise my head just as a body molds to me—soft, slender, feminine.

  “Ev?”

  “Shh.” She strokes her hands down my thighs, shifts against me. I can feel her nipples brush my back, and a hot flare of arousal goes through me like a blade.

  My dick hardens as she slides her hands up my sides, over my ribs, her warm mouth pressing light kisses to the inked snake on my spine. My hand curls into a fist where it’s braced against the wall and my head dips.

  Oh fuck. This isn’t good. I’m about to lose control, and she’s pressed so tightly against me...

  “Ev... Have you got any idea what you’re doing to me?” It’s a warning. Run little rabbit, run. “You should stop.”

  She hums and keeps kissing my back, her hands stroking my stomach, coming dangerously close to my hard cock.

  Fuck, fuck. Every muscle in my body trembles. Normally, I try to be gentle, to hold back. But now I feel like I’m hanging over the void, ready to fall.

  “Ev...” I say, my voice so strangled I barely recognize it. “I need some time.”

  “I’ve got you,” she whispers and I groan, because I’m about to take out my despair on her, and she’s the last person I wanna hurt.

  “You don’t understand.” Shit, how can I explain without spooking her?

  The fact my dick is so hard it hurts isn’t helping. Her small hands wander to the front of my legs, not quite touching where I need her to touch. My balls feel hot and heavy, and sparks of pleasure skitter up my spine when her fingertips skim the base of my cock.

  “You had a nightmare. Pretty bad one.” I can feel her breath on my wet back and shiver. “Tell me about it.”

  “Can’t.” Not now, dammit. “Gimme a minute.” Please.

  “You called for me in your sleep.”

  Oh, damn. Can’t remember that. The images return, the memory slams back into me, and I clench my teeth against a moan. “Just go, Ev. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not leaving,” she says now, her voice low but determined. “You’re not fine. Tell me how to help you.”

  “You can’t—” The words catch in my throat. “You have—”

  She shudders against my back, and my control finally shatters. I turn and push her against the wall of the shower, capturing both her wrists in one hand and slamming them over her head. A gasp escapes her and she struggles briefly. Her eyes are wide, gold and copper, fixed on me, and a flash of fear goes through them.

  With my free hand, I stroke wet strands off her face. I press myself to her, my burning erection sliding on her stomach. Oh, fuck, it feels so good. I need to bury myself in her so deep the memories leave me.

  “Micah...” Her voice breaks through my trance. Her mouth draws me, her lips plump and soft. Damn, this girl is so pretty it’s killing me.

  “Too late to run now,” I inform her, kissing her roughly, thrusting my tongue into her mouth, licking her. I groan at her taste, so sweet and irresistible.

  Her hands clench where I’m holding them over her head, and I tighten my hold. Breaking the kiss, I reach between her legs and slip my fingers between her folds. She’s wet and slick and hot, and my dick throbs desperately at the feel of her.

  She squeaks when I find her clit and pinch it lightly, then circle it. She pants against my lips, squirming. Her nipples are tight and hard, scoring my chest. I want to play with her, suck on her breasts, on her clit, I want to torture her with pleasure in every way imaginable—but not now.

  What I need now is to plunge inside of her and take her fast and hard. I push one finger inside her, and she moans deep in her throat. I almost come then. She’s so tight and hot around my finger I wonder how on earth I’m gonna fit in there. But she gives me no time to doubt as she squirms again, grinding herself on my hand, swallowing my finger as if begging for more.

  And I give it to her. I push one more finger inside and fuck her with both, dragging them in her heat.

  My breathing is coming in harsh pants. Shit, I’m gonna fuck her so hard she’ll scream. My cock twitches. I’m so close to coming it’s torture.

  Pulling my fingers out of her, I grab her leg and lift it, curling it around my leg. Leaving her wide open. Warm water glides on her skin, between her legs, making her shimmer. So goddamn sexy. I trail my fingers between her legs, down her exposed seam, and she moans.

  The head of my dick presses against her clenching opening. Can’t hold back. Can’t stop.

  God, I hope she won’t ask me to stop.

  She looks up, and for a moment we’re still, our gazes locked. Fear is still there, lurking in the depths of her bright eyes, but then I see another emotion, dark and powerful.

  Desire.

  With a growl I push into her in one long thrust. She cries out and her eyes flutter closed. For a second I wonder if I hurt her—but then her leg tightens around me, and she arches her back, dragging me closer. Taking me deeper.

  Damn. She’s so fucking tight, so fucking hot. I grunt as I grip her leg, slide my hand up to her ass and push inside her one last inch.

  Oh, shit... She clamps around me, squeezing my length so tightly I can’t catch my breath. My hips jerk of their own volition. Need takes over me, and the world goes hazy as I draw out a ways, then slam back into her heat.

  We both cry out. Sensation rips through me, raising goose bumps all over. It’s never been so good before. I do it again, pulling back, driving back inside, and oh hell, it keeps getting be
tter.

  My hips piston back and forth, faster and faster. I release her wrists, and her hands fall on my shoulders, her nails digging into my flesh. She’s panting hard, her mouth slack, her eyelids heavy. Water rolls down her cheeks like teardrops. She whispers my name.

  And then she comes, rippling around me, squeezing me, moaning my name.

  I barely manage to pull out before my balls contract, and my cock jerks. I let go of her, slam one hand on the wall for balance and grip my dick with the other. My mouth falls open as the pressure rises and rises until it crests, and I come so hard I see white. My cum sprays on her—again—and before the water washes it off it’s like rivers flowing between her breasts, dipping into her navel then spilling out, traveling down her body.

  Crap, I’m more wiped out than I thought. I feel drunk. High. Can’t think straight.

  “Bed,” I decide and tug on her hand. “Come on.”

  She follows gamely, looking a little dazed herself, and lets me wrap her up in a towel and steer her toward my bedroom. Once there, I unwrap her again and pull her with me under the covers. I lie on my back and pull her to me until she rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her. She fits perfectly there, by my side.

  The sky has begun to darken outside, and my eyes are heavy. A feeling of calm steals over me as her heart beats against my side. I inhale her scent of flowers. I think it’s her shampoo, and I bury my nose in her soft hair. I fall asleep before I know it, and this time I don’t dream.

  ***

  This time, when I open my eyes, it’s morning. I can tell by the gray dawn breaking over the sky outside. I don’t know what woke me up, and for a long moment I’m content to just lie on my side, in my bed, and just stare out the window at the visible sliver of sky over the building across the street.

  Peaceful. Warm through and through. I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so good, and unavoidably, that has alarm bells ringing in my head.

 

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