Page 54 of The Denver Alpha
He straightens his posture, rising up behind me looking like a damn sex god. Then he lifts a hand, winds up, and delivers a harsh slap to my ass.
It stings, but he rubs it away quickly, replacing the sensation of pain with pleasure. Then he lifts his other hand, striking my other cheek. Each slap he rains down comes harder, faster, but my body reacts like it can’t get enough. By the time he’s done, I’m a panting, writhing, whining mess, all wound up and begging for release.
“So good for me,” Cole praises, his low, rumbling voice sending a shiver up my spine. “You ready for me to take care of that ache between your thighs now, beautiful?”
“Please,” I force out through dry lips. I wriggle my ass in invitation, so desperate for release that I’m two seconds away from touching my own damn self.
He doesn’t keep me waiting. I’m expecting his hand between my legs, but I cry out when I feel his tongue instead, distantly registering that he’s dropped to his knees behind me. I’m already on the precipice of ecstasy, and the combination of his mouth on my clit and his thick fingers pushing inside me has me coming undone in two minutes flat, screaming loud enough for the whole damn packhouse to hear. My knees buckle, my thighs shake, and I swear I damn near black out.
I lose touch with reality completely, giving myself over to the white-hot pleasure coursing through my veins. Cole continues working my pussy through what has to be the longest and most intense orgasm of my life, to the point where the stimulation becomes physically painful and I’m trying to scramble away from him. Even then, he doesn’t relent, and tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I ride out the last waves of bliss.
Slowly, I come back down. My breathing is ragged, my heart thumping against my ribs. A thin sheen of sweat coats my skin.
I hear Cole rise to his feet behind me, then feel his hand come down on my ass again, a loud slap echoing off the walls of his office. “Better go get ready for our date,” he says smugly.
My arms are weak as I slide them underneath me to push up from his desk, wobbly on my feet as I grab for my leggings that are bunched around my knees and pull them up. I’m so wrung out that I can’t even form words- I just turn around and stare at him.
“Wanna plan to leave around eight?” he suggests.
I nod mutely, pushing my disheveled hair out of my face. Then, on shaky legs, I make my way out from behind Cole’s desk, heading toward the door of his office in a daze.
I’m sure I’ll have plenty of snark to deliver by the time our date rolls around tonight, but for now, all I want to do is flop down in my bed and replay what just happened over and over again in my mind.
Because hot damn, Cole gives as good as he gets. And if we’re keeping score, I’m pretty sure we’ve just drawn even.
21
“Wow, this is off the beaten path,” Juliet remarks as I pull into the parking lot of the small Italian restaurant on the outskirts of the city.
Admittedly, that’s part of the reason why I chose this place. More importantly, though, I picked it because it’s a hidden gem- the atmosphere is intimate, the food is amazing, and it’s not obnoxiously stuffy or fancy. It seemed like a decent spot for a date. Though technically this is my first one, so I’m totally winging this whole thing.
I shrug a shoulder in response, parking the Camaro and cutting the engine.
“Can’t risk being seen out with me, huh?” she laughs as she unbuckles her seatbelt, cutting me a sideways glance. Although she says it in jest, I detect a bite of hurt in her tone. This isn’t how I wanted to start the night.
I blow out a breath, reaching over to grab Juliet by the chin and turn her face toward mine. “I’m a very private person,” I say, staring into her pale blue eyes earnestly. “Make no mistake that I want to be here with you, Juliet. I just don’t feel the need to broadcast our personal relationship and invite commentary or gossip.”
She nods, though I can tell my explanation doesn’t fully satisfy her. And that’s fine, so long as she can respect my position on the matter. This is uncharted territory for me. I mean, I’m almost thirty and I’ve never taken a woman out on an actual date. The females in and out of my life over the years have been temporary fixtures that never progressed beyond a physical connection. But this one… this one’s different.
I lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Juliet’s rosy lips before releasing her chin and rocking back to unbuckle my own seatbelt. “Shall we?”
The two of us exit the car, and as I round it and lay eyes on Juliet, I have the same reaction that I did when I first saw her tonight- my pulse picks up speed, my breath catches. She’s a vision in a little black dress, the lace hem brushing the tops of her thighs and the off-the-shoulder top flaunting the curves of her prominent collarbones and the swell of her breasts. Her hair is pulled up on one side like an old-timey Hollywood starlet, cascading down her back in waves of gold. I’m so attracted to her that it fuckinghurts- and not only because of the way my dick’s straining against my zipper. It’s a physical ache, a deep-seated need to touch, to claim. Toconsume.
I slide a hand to the small of her back and lead her into the restaurant, hoping the formality of all this will feel less awkward by the time we’re seated.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
Both of us are quiet as the waiter shows us to a secluded table in a dark corner, topped with a vase holding a single red rose. I’m sure it’s meant to be romantic, but it all feels a little cliché. The two of us slide into our chairs opposite one another, and when the waiter asks what we’d like to drink, I order a glass of scotch to take the edge off. I don’t bat an eye when Juliet orders herself a glass of wine because it doesn’t even register that she’s technically below the legal drinking age until after the waiter scurries away. I raise a brow at her in question and she just smiles demurely, shrugging.
“What if he’d carded you?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She shrugs again, lifting her chin. “Do anything with enough confidence and people don’t question it.” Her lips slide into a devious grin, the flickering light from the candle on the table making her look even more devilish than usual.
I can’t help but grin back at her as I pick up my menu, opening it in front of me as Juliet follows my cue and does the same. The waiter reappears with our drinks and sets them down in front of us before leaving again, and though my inner stickler for the rules rebels at the sight of Juliet lifting her glass of white wine and taking a sip, I stay quiet and allow it because we both need to loosen up a little if we’re going to make it through this evening.
In fact, we’re both quiet. Too quiet. I keep flicking glances her way, wondering if all dates are like this or if I’m just treating it too much like a business meeting. Hell, even business meetings aren’t rife with awkward silences like this. I clear my throat, trying to think of something to say. She looks to me expectantly.
“If you need recommendations for the menu, the filet is top notch.”