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

by Jo Raven

  Wedging the vibrator between his thigh and my throbbing jewel, he hit my ass twice with a paddle, and I yowled. “What is that shitty-wimp stuff? I’m the one who gives you pleasure. I deserve your guttural scream not God. Fucking scream it.” Taking hold of the vibrator again, he ground it mercilessly into my ultra-sensitive nub that was begging for reprieve.

  Despite wanting to obey, it felt awkward to let myself loose and actually scream it. As a quieter person, I hardly ever shout anything except cheers at games, and only then ’cause I know mine will meld into a stream. I was saying it louder, but not loudly enough for his gratification. The clit torture became overwhelming, and soon, I couldn’t help myself. Screaming and sobbing his name and begging him to stop were all I could do. Punishing me master-to-slave, removing my will from the equation, he refused to move the vibrator despite my obvious torment, and I knew he wouldn’t let up until he was finished helping me remember respect for his good name. I felt like I was dying. His name would be the last thing to leave my lips, my last word, my final breath, my only thought. I will never, ever forget to say it again. His name emitted in an ugly cry. I kept wailing it again and again and again.

  “Yeah, like that, Pet. Hot. Scream it, scream it. From here on out, you will fucking remember to scream my name when I make you come. Understand?”

  “Yes, Jason. Yes. I swear. I won’t forget again.”

  “Better not.” He finally had mercy, ripping the vibrator away. After letting me sob on his lap, he untied my legs and dumped me on the floor with a thigh shove. Tears streaked my hot face and sweat plastered my hair this way and that. As I sat side-saddled at his feet, he lifted my chin with his finger. “Uh, such a delicious hot mess. Now, now, you may make good on that offer and show me how truly good and worshipful you can be.”

  As I crouched before him, smiling, he untied my wrists and bound them in front of me. “With my utmost pleasure.” I freed his cock and lavished him in adoration until he squirted on my tongue. As soon as I swallowed, I thanked him for the honor, bowed and kissed his bare feet.

  “Lovely worship, Pet.”

  “Thank you.”

  He clutched my arm, lifting me up, and brought delight to my neck and ears with the tickling wind of his breath when he stepped behind me and blindfolded me. “Having your senses compromised will make you feel more dependent on me and heighten your receptors.” I got a chill when his hands swooped down my back and under my arms. He kissed the back of my head as he caressed then possessively grabbed my breasts. “Lift your arms over your head and tuck them behind my neck.”

  I laced my fingers together as I brought my arms up over his head. With the restrictive connection, his upper body fused to my back and I became attuned to his breathing and was soon synched.

  With my hands out of the way, he was free to grope me anywhere. Being blindfolded did pique the sensations of every pinch and tickle. I was so alert, it felt like champagne bubbles coursed through his fingers. My arms strained. Didn’t care. I relished his affection like the fruity sweetness of a virgin strawberry daiquiri. My wincing must’ve clued him in to my discomfort because I never raised a complaint.

  He lifted my arms over his head which released the painful tension that was lancing down my back. He pushed my upper back, bending me in half, then lifted my leg into a split and braced my foot against his shoulder.

  With my goods free to his touch, I moaned and quaked when his fingers slid through and pinched my swollen bits. Air swooshed through my teeth with a hiss of deliciousness as he replaced fingers with the tip of his velvety cock. Ohmygod, he whacked my clit. I fought hard to not rock against the drumbeat that was making me drip like a lemon.

  “Sexy circus freak.” Holding his cock in one hand and my hip in the other, he spread his legs to sink lower, and with great restraint, he lined up with my entrance and teased me with cruel circles, continuing on and on, even as I started sobbing from lust. He slid across my wet fruit and flicked my nub with his stiffness, bringing me to the edge but refusing to let me go over. When I settled, he mashed his length up against me, and my hills hugged him like a hot dog bun. “Such a hungry pussy, Shayna, so damn lusty and wet for this cock. You torture me.” He broke me out of my split and swooped me up in his arms. I felt treasured and safe in his strong embrace. He carried me into the bathroom and turned the tub faucet off. Warm lips brushed my brow. “I’m gonna pamper that body until you feel forever altered by my dominance.”

  Perfect.

  Without vision, I felt dizzy when he set me down and bent me over the vanity. He removed the butt plug, picked me up again, and dunked me in the hot water. I heard him strip his pants off as I acclimated to the temp. I smiled when he joined me and tugged me to sit astride his lap.

  “Ask me to wash you.”

  God, I was on fire. It was weird, having him take care of me like this, but totally sensual at the same time. “Um, please wash me, Jason. Make me squeaky clean for your pleasure?”

  “Hot invitation.” He washed my back with a sponge that he quickly soaped up and scrubbed my thighs and feet. “Rub that filthy clit against me, Shay. Bounce along my length. That’s your dirtiest part, aside from your mind.”

  Chills of delight rippled through me when I obeyed.

  He traveled down my crack, pressed up into my apex. He scrubbed roughly and I ground against the soapy sponge in his hand.

  “Uh, Jason.”

  He tossed my arms around his neck, and I rubbed my nipples against his pecs as I masturbated against his erection. With him washing my neck and tits, tickling ribbons of suds streamed down the front of me.

  “Get nasty, Sunshine.”

  I tried. Not pleased with my effort, he lifted my butt out of the water, bent me over his shoulder, and left a smack on my soaked skin. I shrieked at the unexpected sharpness, and he yanked me back down to improve.

  “Get nasty I said.”

  His hand print stung like two hundreds bees had hit all at once. I rolled my hips and pressed along his erection on my erotic rodeo ride. Water swayed and crashed around us as I increased speed. I fell lax against his chest and hummed in his ear as I gave everything I had to stroking his cock with my tender clit. “Mmm. Oh god, Jason. I’m so … I’m so damn hot for you.”

  “I know. Worship me with those pretty bits. Give it everything. Suffer. Struggle. Fight through your exhaustion and pain. Make that clit burn. Hit me, baby.”

  “Aaahh, Jason,” I cried at the top of my lungs, flinging my head back. “Jason!”

  He burst out of the water, sending me to my knees. Two seconds later, he came all over my chest, then he jerked me up to stand beside him, a clasp on my hair, and ransacked my mouth.

  His breath was beastly and coarse against my lips as he clawed at my back. He shoved me against the tiles and continued to maul my flesh, working his way down with a grabby clutch. “Screw the new rule. You had your turn. It’s mine now.” He knelt and claimed me between the legs with ravenous hunger, biting, sucking, driving me wild, and I shouted his name again and again. He dined on my sore, ultra-sensitive clit with exquisite expertise while ramming two fingers inside me, pounding me into insanity. He didn’t stop until sugar water was gushing down his hand and sputtering against his lips.

  “Uh, Jason!” I shrilled, unable to help it. I went limp in his hands. I was finished. I sank, no longer having the bones to stand. I was mush. I was his. As I drifted to the tub floor, he kissed my abdomen, nipple, face. Holding me in his arms, he washed semen off. I drooped my chin and closed my eyes as I hung onto him as wave after sparkly wave zapped down my body. Breaths sawed in and out of my lungs. Tremors hit everywhere, especially my pelvic floor and deep within my walls.

  “Damn delicious. How can you be heaven on earth yet unspeakable hell at the same time?”

  Because I suck. I’m a sucky sub. I started sniveling. I cried because that orgasm felt fantastic. Best one ever. I cried because I wasn’t really his and desperately wanted to be. I broke down and wept into
my bound, dripping hands.

  “Shh. Why are you crying, sweetheart?” He clutched all my hair at the base of my neck into a ponytail and kissed me under the ear. “Shh.” He ran knuckles down my cheek.

  “That was the most beautiful thing, not just what you did, but how you made me feel. It’s so pointless I know, so totally stupid. I’ve talked about tomorrow and I’ve tried to picture myself happy and satisfied under some other dude’s command, but I don’t want any other Dom. I only want you, you pissing me off, you grabbing my throat, you sucking my clit. I’m so pathetic.”

  He continued to shush me while stroking me and letting me cry against his chest.

  When I calmed and stopping fighting snivels, he shampooed my hair like I was a fragile flamingo from a glass menagerie, like he truly cherished me and longed to keep me around. His massage with circles then sweeps down my head and through my locks felt so sultry and intimate. “You’re so precious.” He whispered plenty of compliments about my body and adorableness as he used the shower head and his hand to rinse suds out, but he didn’t say the one thing I was dying to hear that would ease the crushing pain in my heart. That I was his.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jason

  Once flames were flickering, I turned the ceiling light off and drank in the wonder before me. Because I didn’t dry her off, she shimmered on my bed … on my altar in the orange glow of candlelight. Her bound hands, still in the drenched scarf, were fixed overhead and her legs spread open, giving me an all-access pass to her prettiest bits.

  She was still moaning and uttering my name intermittently. Good little kitty. She hasn’t even known the glory of scening with me yet. I’m not through with that luscious body. My cock itched to slide into the hot open house I created for myself. So ready, so wanting, so damn wet. I pressed my teeth into my upper lip for a moment, then muttered, “Fuck,” under my breath. She was breath-taking … a glittery bound angel, so reverent in the ties that made her my prisoner.

  She wasn’t nearly as prudish as I thought, not even protesting the anal probing I did before, even though I know it made her feel so slutty and used. I gathered supplies to surprise her with.

  Honest to God, I did like her more than I wanted to, and her body gave me a rush like nothing else, nothing. But I can’t deal with the potential hurt in actually choosing her, with the risk being so great when we’re already on a fast track to crash and burn before the word ‘Go’.

  I didn’t like the look of her hands that way. I tented over her, straddling her sweet cunt to untie them. “It’s weird maybe, but I want your arms spread too, so you’re a sexy X on my bed.” When she was free, I laced my fingers with hers, pinning them by her ears. “Bondage for me is about presentation, about the look, and that’s the look I crave. You’re a church girl, so I’m sure you know how worshipers look when the praise God. I want to be exalted with your sexy spread on my bed.” I licked my lips, seeing her abdomen bop up. Damn, she loved that. She’s thrilled to be posed and bound for my pleasure. It’s clear her worship pours out from deep within. It’s not just for show or to get kinky prizes. All the subs I play with are after the prizes, the good stuff. They don’t really mean the things they say. Their bows are empty. Their praises are shit. That’s why none of them deserve to taste my cock. Sunshine is vastly different, a breath of fresh air. She’s all about me, and she doesn’t even realize how precious I consider that or how amazing she is as a woman and as a sub. I want to help her see her worth in all ways. I intend to show her how much I appreciate that genuine dedication to me. She, above all other women, deserves the good stuff, the best stuff, the sheer ecstasy I can provide. “Want the fuzzy-lined leather cuffs?”

  “No. Your ropes are not abrasive. I don’t mind them.”

  “Of course you don’t. Missing my ties, bunny, bunny? Knew it. Fuck me over, Sunshine.”

  “I can’t.” She smiled big and said, “I’m … waiting,” and laughed.

  “Yeah, I’ll make you wait.” I landed on her and tickled her sides. “Wait for pleasure.”

  She squirmed and screeched. “No! She tried to kick, but her legs were tied down She cried out in laughter and begged me in a shrill plea. “No, Jason. Please, stop. Please. I hate tickles.”

  “All right, all right. Mercy granted.” Her smile lost its curve when I added, “For now.” I smirked at her wariness. “You want pleasure, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Jason.”

  “You’re sweating for it. You want your fix? I need mine first. Beg me.”

  She beamed. “Please touch me, Jason, use my body for your delight and do your worst.”

  My worst. Shit. That was better beggary than I imagined. When I knotted up her wrists, I stood back, admiring the sight of her. God, she was so ready for this. Her breaths were quicker, her tight swallows were increasing, and her tiny fountain was losing tears on my sheet.

  I licked my lips and grabbed a peacock feather and swept it along her raised nipples. Her breath caught. I journeyed the wisp down her body. She trembled when I lingered along her thighs, edging so close to her hot spot without hitting it. “How’s that for a tickle? Better?”

  “Sooo nice.”

  I suddenly slapped her clit with the crop side. Her, “Ooh aaahh,” fired a lightning bolt into my nuts. I batted her nipples and random spots on her body, then switched back to feather. The contrasting feels had her moaning and licking her lips, which had me throbbing with desire. I don’t normally get jacked up when I’m scening because I am in control and on a mission to mold. I do find the power exchange hot, always, but not mind-blowing, not all consuming. But, I admit, I was struggling a bit now to keep my bigger brain as Master. I sent slaps to her vulva, softly working my way up and down, punctuating on her clit with a firm whack. She loved that trek, howling like a wolf at the moon when I bopped her gem.

  I kept going. When her screeches hinted at discomfort, I switched to feather then massaged her tenderized bits with my fingers, dipping the middle one in a tiny bit.

  She was ultra-piqued now. Anything I gave her, every little whisk was paradise.

  I knuckled-grazed her inner thigh right by her hill, and she shivered. I roamed around her navel. Breaths hissed through her teeth. She also curled her lips in and clamped her jaw as she winced. I think she was trying to ignore the tickling sensation. I pinched her nipples, alternating, and then bopped each breast with the crop. She moaned like a pain slut, even though I little more than tapped her. Her open mouth, hanging agape, begged me to maul her. I quickly kissed her face and gave sweet oral loving to each breast. I took my time devouring her, making her quiver in ecstasy and whisper my name with rubies about how amazing it felt.

  I left her for a moment and returned with things she’d never expect.

  She trembled when I drenched my hand with hot water, held it over her and streamed the liquid on her tummy and flower. She was neatly trimmed and waxed in the bikini line, but I wanted it all gone. I tugged and worked a jumbo towel under her, all the way up to her neck, then wet her slit with a soaked cloth, covered her pubic hair with shave gel and carefully scraped away the rest of her blond bush. Her sparkling treasure was gonna feel every breath and tickle without anything standing in my way.

  I wiped her down, streaking away foamy gel remnants, and rubbed the same aftershave moisturizer on her that I use for my chest. She wiggled her hips, loving my massage.

  “Mmm, Sunshine, you’re a Jason junkie.” To show her how much more pleasure she could now get as a bare bunny, I pulled a bud off a rose and one by one let petals sail down and land like dandelion seeds below her navel and between her thighs. She shivered, sighed or giggled each time one of my velvet valentines touched down on her smooth skin. She squawked in surprise when I blew away the petals and scraped her labia with my teeth. I gave an encore presentation of my crop beat on her chest and worked my way down to show her the difference. When I swatted her between the thighs on her bare skin, she gnashed her teeth and wiggled her hips. Sexiest dance ever! W
hen her dam was about to break, I left her side, grinning that my work left her satisfied even though I hadn’t brought her to climax.

  I picked up my saxophone, hung the strap on my neck, and then played a soulful version of Chrysalis. She smiled. Yeah, honey, this is me. I poured my heart out and did something I’ve never ever done; I brought my music into scene play. She was giving her all to me, without question, so she deserved all of me in this moment. When I set the cold metal on her skin and let her feel the vibrations of my soul, of my playing, of the song I wrote because of her, she hotly began latching my name to her exhales. I wanted to show her that D/s doesn’t have to mean pain or a string of shouted orders. It’s about connecting, soul-to-soul, about being brutally honest and true to your most secret, sensual desires and giving them the space to break free. It’s about the chills you can get from the giving and receiving of power in a circle of intimacy few understand. It’s about beauty, a beauty that nothing in the world can even come close to matching.

  A woman who can worship me with her breath and with the subtle dance on her lips and hips deserves to know my full dominant expression, which is laced with tenderness, openness, and depth as much as it is with raw, primal energy. She should get more than the segmented, auto-pilot version I typically dish out.

  I half-knelt between her spread legs, set the sax on her hairless cunt and played the rest of my song. Moisture stung my eyes and hung on the ridges when I was finished because the rapture and radiance on her face out-surpassed that of angels. Shit. I don’t want this girl tugging at my heart or moving me so deeply, dammit! I don’t like being shaken from or jerked off of my throne. She’s nothing but a dead end for me, and I need to goddamn remember that. I got off her before she came from my music. I stuck my sax in the corner and snatched a lit body candle on my way back to her, held it a couple feet above her and tilted to let wax dot and trail on her skin.