Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 (24 page)

“Oh…” This was breathy, aroused. “That would’ve been pretty hot, I think.”
 

“Goddamn it, don’t encourage me, woman.”
 

“You want to come on me?”
 

I opened my eyes to slits, still breathing hard, even though I’d gotten myself under control by that point. “One of these days I’ll come on you. I’ll paint your tits with my come, and watch it trickle down your stomach.”

She reached for me, palmed my ass and hauled me back between her legs, then wrapped her hands around my erection, her touch on my cock gentle, soft, her eyes impassioned and hooded with erotic heat. “Would you come on my face?” she breathed.

“Only if you told me to.”
 

“I’ve never done that before,” Lola murmured, stroking me slowly. “But I’ve thought about it. Maybe I’ll let you, sometime.”
 

I reached between her thighs and found her clit, gave her the light fast circling touch she liked best. “You want that, baby? You want to wrap both of your hands around my cock and suck me and jerk me off until I shoot my come all over your face?”

“Oh—oh fuck, you and your goddamn talented hands, Thresh!” she said, panting, “How can you get me off so fucking fast? Jesus, Jesus, oh fuck, that’s right, just like that, don’t stop, don’t—fuck, oh fuck, don’t stop! Yes! I want that! Ohhhhh—”

I had her riding my fingers again, and this time all I had to do was slide them inside her and press my thumb against her clit and let her writhe against my finger and she did all the work, fucking my fingers hard and fast, her grip on my cock mercifully tight, squeezing hard involuntarily until I hissed at the pain of it, but it was good, because watching her fuck my fingers was the hottest thing yet.

“I’m coming, Thresh, I’m coming again!”

“Come hard for me, beautiful,” I murmured, “let me feel you clench around my fingers.”

She squeezed her vag muscles hard around my fingers. “Like that? Oh—oh—
ohhhhh
—”

“Fuck me, Lola, you do that around my cock and I won’t stand a chance.”
 

I wasn’t exaggerating. If she felt that tight around my fingers, and then squeezed even tighter? I’d come so hard so fast it wouldn’t even be funny.

She writhed and ground on my fingers, whimpering and gasping through her climax, and then flopped backward, panting.
 

I stood and stared down at her exotic beauty, made all the more intoxicating in the glow of two orgasms. “You are so goddamned beautiful, Lola.”

She sat up all the way. Stared up at me for several long moments, and I couldn’t quite read her thoughts, this time.
 

“You have protection?”
 

I nodded. “In my bag,” I said, indicating the backpack on the ground by the fire.
 

“Get it.”
 

“You’re sure?” I cupped her face, bent down to kiss her. “We can take this as slow as you—”

“I’m scared out of my mind, and I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been,” she said. “I’m torn between wanting to run as far and fast as I can because I’m scared out of my fucking head, and wanting to jump on your cock and ride you like a mustang at the rodeo.”
 

God, when she said shit like that, it was the hardest thing not to grab her hips and start fucking. I needed her so goddamned bad. I’d never wanted anyone this bad, never needed anything this desperately. I
needed
to be inside her. I needed to come. I needed to feel her pussy wrapped around me, clenching, throbbing, coming.
 

It took every ounce of self-control I had in me right then to keep my hands at my sides, to not seize and take her the way I wanted.

But this wasn’t about me, this was about her.
 

Bad alpha. Down boy.

I sucked in a breath, let it out. “Lola—”

She bent forward and took my cock in her mouth before I could react, shutting me up instantly, fists sliding and fluttering at my base, and then she took me deep, sucked hard and bobbed down on me once, twice, three times, backing away when I hissed through gritted teeth.
 

“I’m choosing the second option, Thresh,” she said, her voice sultry and low, “so get the goddamn condom.”

12: SCREAMING IN THE MANGROVES

My heart was hammering so hard in my chest my ribcage hurt. I was only barely in control of my panic. I felt the eyes. I felt watched. I was constantly fighting the urge to scan the clearing for hidden cameras. So far, I was winning. And thank fuck for that, because Thresh was…
incredible
wasn’t a strong enough word. His fingers, his mouth…the things he could do with them. God, I was shuddering, still feeling it, still quaking from the aftershocks.
 

But his words?

I don’t think he understood how potent his constant praise was. I got the impression he didn’t think he was good with words, but he always seemed to know exactly what I needed and wanted to hear. He could get me crazy just by talking, just by telling me what he was going to do.
 

Had I really told him I wanted him to come on me? That’d always been a hard line for me, with—
before
. One of the few things we’d never done…but now, with Thresh in front of me, with his huge hard thick iron rod of a cock swaying in front of my face, just begging for me to touch it and lick it and suck it and ride it and make him come a dozen different ways, fuck, I wanted to watch him come, wanted to just caress him with my hands as slowly and for as long as I could, until he shot his load all over my hands… I shivered, picturing, imagining how it’d feel, how it’d look, his eyes squeezed shut, rugged, handsome features twisted in ecstasy as I slid my hands up and down that massive, glorious cock of his, that perfect specimen of manhood, and then he’d give me a warning, or better yet, he wouldn’t, he’d be so caught up in how good I was making him feel that he’d just come, and it would squirt out of his cock like a fountain, and it would hit my tits, hot and wet and thick and viscous, or maybe—god, maybe I’d aim his cock at my face and take that milk, musky seed on my face, sticky and hot and salty on my lips and down my chin—

I felt heat clenching between my thighs, and I realized I was getting myself worked up just thinking about this. So I went with it. Better than the fear, the panic, the irrational worry.
 

He stood in front of me, his gaze hot, but full of compassion and concern. I was still flushed and loose from the second orgasm he’d just given me. He’d fingered me, and he’d gone down on me, and fuck, his tongue inside me, fluttering against my clit, that was the stuff of fantasies, his fingers inside me…but using his cock to rub my clit, that was—whatever was better than a fantasy.
 

I could still barely breathe from the power of how hard I’d come, and now I was aching all over again, throbbing, and he was just standing there, cock hard and at attention, begging for me.
 

I needed more.

I was ready for more.
 

The hungry, lust-hot, lascivious gleam in his eyes, there and gone in a quick gleam, told me which option he preferred. The way his cock twitched and straightened, visibly hardened, the way his hands curled into fists, the way his muscles tensed as he fought for control, fighting the urge to ravage me, most likely—
 

He was holding back, for me, I realized.

He was a rough, take-charge, dominant man, and he was holding those instincts at bay for me. No way I’d have gotten this far, through this much of my own mental fuckery, if he’d just gone for me the way I figured he normally would have, just grabbing and commanding and ordering and taking what he wanted. I was a mess, and required a good bit of finessing.

Oh, I knew once I was in full possession of my old libido, I’d want his dominance, want him to take me anywhere and everywhere and any time. I’d expect that from him. But for now, I was beyond grateful that he was working as hard as I could tell he was to let me set the pace, giving me time to work myself past my barriers and fears.
 

Fucking hell, watching him hold back like that was sexier than anything I’d ever seen. His jeans were down around his thighs, his balls heavy and taut against his shaft, a hint of tree-trunk-thick thighs.
 

“Lola,” he started protesting, but there was nothing for him to say.

I gripped his shaft, marveling at the way my middle fingers didn’t meet my thumbs, stroking him near the root. I bent forward and filled my mouth with him, giving him strokes of my hands around his base as I welcomed more of his goddamn perfect cock into my mouth, rolling my tongue against him, taking him to the back of my throat, sucking, backing away, and then committed to it, bobbed on him, doing my best impression of a porn star, fucking his cock with my mouth a few times, until I felt him tense and heard him hiss, and then I knew I had to stop, because as much as I really truly did want to watch and feel him come like this, it wasn’t what I needed.

I needed to be fucked.

No, that wasn’t right. Earlier, it had been more than a blowjob, and this…what Thresh and I were about to do…it was going to be so much more than fucking.

I met his gaze. “I’m choosing the second option, Thresh, so put on the goddamn condom.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice.

He did two things at once, then, kicking off one boot and then toed off the sock, then did the same with the other foot, all the while rummaging in the backpack for a box of condoms—magnums, obviously, and that reminded me of just how massive the man was, especially his cock.
 

He shucked his jeans in a flash, and then he was beautifully, intoxicatingly naked, and good god
damn
, what a man. What a fucking man. Huge, larger than life, massive and exuding power, a real-life colossus, a Titan made flesh. Rippling with muscle, ripped and gnarled with scars, carved out of living marble, but no statue ever carved had ever boasted the dizzying proportions of the man standing proudly before me; I’d certainly never seen a statue with a twelve-inch cock.

I reached up, grabbed his handsome, rugged face in my palms and brought him down to me, sought his kiss, because holy fucking hell that man could kiss like a god, and his kisses never failed to erase any fears, never failed to quiet my panic and never failed to add fuel to my raging libido.

But there was something…missing. Something holding me back.
 

I pulled back, stared into his eyes and held him and breathed him in, and then, in a flash, it hit me, the one thing I was missing in that moment. “I—Thresh, I need something, before we do this.”
 

“What, baby? Anything, tell me.”
 

“Your name. I need your
real
name.”

He ducked his head, pulling his gaze from mine. One breath, two, and I wondered if it was a deal breaker for him, started to wonder if he wasn’t going to answer. “I hate my name,” he rumbled. “And there’s a reason I don’t use it, why no one knows it.”
 

“I won’t use it, I just—”

He spoke over me. “But because it’s you—” He sighed. “Thomas Harding.”

I blinked. I was expecting something weird, something embarrassing. “Thomas Harding?” I frowned up at him. “Your real name is Thomas Harding?”

He nodded. “I was called Tommy up through high school, and I fucking
hate,
and have
always
hated being called Tommy, and Thomas sounds like some pencil-dick lawyer nerd who goes by three names and wears polos with the collar popped to play a round of golf.” A growl of irritation. “Worst part is, technically, I’m a ‘Junior’, or ‘the second’, because my dad is Thomas Harding, too. And, really, he’s why I refuse to go by that name. I want nothing to do with that man. I’m not him. I’m nothing like him, and I want nothing of his, especially not his fucking name. I don’t even want to speak his name, not fucking
ever
.”

I caressed his cheek with my fingers. “You’re
not
him, and you’re
not
like him, Thresh.” I made sure his eyes were on mine. “You’re
you
. You’re Thresh. You’re sweet and gentle and smart and kind, and so fucking sexy I can’t even handle it.”

He let out a breath and looked away from me. “My mom died, I told you that, and I’m guessing my dad has too, but I don’t know for sure and I don’t wanna know. Which makes
you
the only person who knows my real name, except for a couple of top brass in the military, and they all have top secret security clearance, and I threatened them within an inch of their lives before I left. So, yeah, Lola. You’re the only one. Not even Harris knows my real name.”
 

I kissed his jaw, the corner of his mouth, then his lips, a soft sweet brush of my lips across his. “Thank you, Thresh.” I tugged at him until he looked at me, really truly saw me. “I mean it. Thank you for trusting me with your name.”
 

He cupped the back of my head so I couldn’t escape the kiss. “Only for you, babe.” He took my mouth then, claimed me, marked me. “Only for you.”
 

Another kiss, this one hotter, pushing heat through me, reminding me that I needed this man, and the fact that he’d shared his name with me when it was clearly a difficult issue for him…that trust sank into my heart and opened me for him, took what was already building between us and deepened it, strengthened it. And then when he kissed me like that, as if he was starving and only I could sate him…god, that tore me apart, made me crazy, made me delirious for him. Made me ache for him. And then his hands began moving, seeking, searching, caressing, sliding down my back, across my hips, over my thighs, lifting and kneading my breasts, sending desperation searing through me.

“We done talking now?” he growled, rubbing my nipple between his rough fingertips.

I throbbed between my thighs, and couldn’t help that my fingers dove down there, sliding between my legs and finding my clit and, judging by the way he ground his teeth and the way his cock twitched and the way he clawed open the box and tore free a condom, I knew he didn’t mind.