Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 (26 page)

I was at the apex of the climax when, faster than snakebite, he rolled us over, his good arm taking the weight. He was on top of me, above me, his hips forcing my thighs wide open, his wounded hand tucked against my cheek, fingers nuzzling me, motionless for a long moment, staring down at me, buried deep.
 

He shuddered, let out a jagged breath, and then thrust into me, a slow but powerful thrust.
 

I clutched his ass and pulled at him. “Harder, Thresh.” I curled my legs around the backs of his thighs, cupped his hard ass with both hands. “Give it to me, Thresh. Don’t hold back. Let go, baby.”

He shook his head, setting a slow pace. But he was shaking all over, and I could tell he was tensed, muscles all hard and taut, each thrust one of measured control. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
 

“You won’t, Thresh. I can take everything you have. I
want
it. I want everything you are. Stop holding back. Give up control.” I flexed my hips up into his, meeting him thrust for thrust, but I pushed him faster, increasing our pace, pulling at his ass, clawing at the iron muscle, using my legs to yank him closer.

He buried his face in my tits, and I moved one hand up to the back of his head, caressing the stubble and the thicker hair of his mohawk, running my palm over his scalp, but keeping his face against my tits. I moaned as he bit my nipples and breathed against my areolae and nuzzled between my breasts, his hips driving harder now.

I arched my back, grinding my hips faster and faster, matching his pace and ramping it up, demanding more.

He groaned, his weight heavy and perfect on me, his face rough and delicious between my breasts, his hips driving his cock into me, deeper and deeper, and it was so far beyond beautiful I was overcome, overwhelmed, not with climax but with emotional overload. This was almost too much pleasure, too much perfection, too much bliss for one mortal soul to contain. He was still going, but I could tell he was still holding back.

“God, Thresh, yes, just like this,” I moaned, “I love it so much, feeling you inside me. More—
more
, fuck me, Thresh, fuck me like you mean it. I want it, I want all of you, baby.”

“Lola…
Lola
…” and he moved faster, fucked me harder, his movements losing the smoothness of control.

“YES, Thresh, just like that!” I met him pounding thrust for thrust, taking all of him and gasping for more. “Harder! Harder!”
 

He growled, then, a feral, primal sound, and I felt the shift in him, felt him lose it, felt him give up the last vestige of control. He pressed himself up on his palm, drew his knees under him and straightened to his full kneeling height. I willingly, eagerly, scooted toward him and wrapped my legs high around his ribs as he thrust once, hard, and then found his rhythm, harder and faster than ever, his face a rictus of desperate abandon, wild pleasure, all control relinquished.
 

I gave voice to my ecstasy, as much for him as for how incredible it felt. I was screaming as loud as I could with each thrust, each one bringing him closer to his release.
 

He was growling nonstop, nonverbal sounds somewhere between a snarl and shout as he fucked me so beautifully perfectly hard. It was pleasure I’d never known until then, nothing had ever felt this way, and all I could do was scream through it.

“I’m—” he gasped, “I’m gonna—Lola,
Lola
, fuck—
LOLA
, I’m coming!”

He pushed in, held it, thrust deep, hips flush against mine, and I felt him jerk, felt him pulse inside me, felt him come, and then he was moving again, fucking me with everything he had, totally lost, eyes on mine, wide and blazing and rife with emotion.

“Holy fuck, Lola…Jesus—”
 

“Oh
fuck
yes, Thresh, me too! Come with me, come with me right now, come so fucking hard, just for me, baby…please,
please
—harder, baby…god yes, yes! YES! Harder!”
 

He fucked me just the way I was begging for it, hard, fast, brutally beautiful.
 

Finally, his movements slowed and he buried his face in my neck, still thrusting sporadically. I clutched the back of his head and his ass and put my lips to his ear and whispered to him. “God yes, that was…god, I don’t even have words…so fucking incredible.” I bit his earlobe and sighed as he finally went still. “Stay like this, baby. Let me feel you on me, in me.”
 

“I’ll crush you,” he murmured, but he didn’t move, gasping for breath, sweat-slick, heaving, still hard inside me but slackening now.
 

“No, it’s perfect,” I whispered. “
You’re
perfect.
That
was perfect.”

He kissed where his lips were pressed against my throat. “Lola, that was—”

I pushed him to where I could look into his eyes. “The best thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole life.”
 

“I’ve never—” He shook his head, as overwhelmed as I was. “Never in my whole life—nothing has ever been—”

I shuddered. “I know. Me too.”
 

He kissed me, and it was another Thresh Special, the kind of kiss that made my toes curl and turned my insides to jelly and had my still-quaking pussy twitching anew.
 

He rolled off me, pulling out, and tucked me into the crook of his arm. I curled against him…

And felt at home in a way I hadn’t known even existed.

13: RUINED

Lola had just ruined me for all other women, for sex with anyone else. I lost control with her in a way that I’d never allowed myself, ever before, with anyone. Not even close. I’d always been in complete control, making sure to give my partner as many orgasms as I could before I finally pushed through to my own. It’s always felt good, great, amazing, even as I was careful to measure my thrusts, not going too deep or too hard, even if she was begging for more.
 

With Lola, I just…let go.
 

And not only did she take it all, every brutal, pounding thrust I gave her, she demanded more, begged for more, and when I was finished, she was tender and sweet and whispered things to me that made me shiver, made me shudder, made everything inside me twist up, making my throat close and my heart clutch.
 

God, what was she doing to me?
 

I was slack, my cock resting against my thigh, the tip of the condom bulging with my come. Lola was curled against me, cheek on my shoulder, breasts smashed against my side, thigh over mine, one hand tucked between us, the other tracing idle patterns on my chest. She traced my pec, my nipple, the hard line of my sternum, then the other side of my chest, and then down the grooves and ridges of my abs, still heaving despite my efforts to get my breathing under control.
 

And then she reached my groin, glanced up at me with a small mischievous smile, and tugged the condom off me, knotted the end, and tossed it aside. Then she returned her attention to my dick.

I watched her, curious. “Whatcha doing, Lola?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Just touching you. Playing with you. Getting you hard again.”
 

“And then?”

Another lift of her shoulder. “Whatever I want.”

“I can deal with that.”
 

She snickered. “I bet you can.” With a sly glance up at me, and then back down to my cock, she took me in her hand. “What if I said all I wanted to do was this?”
 

“This what?”

She flopped my cock one way and then another. “Just…play with you.” She blinked up at me, toying with me. “No mouth, no pussy, just my hand.”
 

I groaned. “I haven’t had just a hand job in…god, I don’t even know.”
 

Lola laughed. “Thresh, honey…
just
a hand job?”

I shrugged. “How I always thought of it.”
 

“Then allow me to change your mind.”

I rubbed my hand up and down her side, cupping her hip. “Do your worst, or your best, or whatever.”
 

She didn’t answer in words.

Instead, she kept her focus on my cock, rubbing her thumb over the tip, sliding it back and forth across my belly, making a ring of her forefinger and thumb and sliding it up and down my still-slack length. She shifted, lifting her breast to where I could see it. God, why was that so effective? Maybe it was the worshipful look on her face, the tender, sweet, loving, attentive way she was touching me, as if my cock was a priceless gift meant just for her, as if she meant to lavish me with all the love and affection she possessed, with everything she’d kept pent up and locked down for three years, all bestowed on me, on my cock.
 

Just a hand job?

Something told me this would be every bit as life-altering as the sex had been.

God, the sex.

That had been so much…
more
…than anything I’d ever experienced. I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around it, nor believe that I’d felt it, that I’d gotten to share that with this woman. It wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just fucking. I mean, we
fucked
, and hard, but it was so much more than that.

I didn’t know what to make of it, or of myself in this new, emotional landscape, where every touch had meaning, where every kiss was a seduction.
 

I’d always wanted to believe in love, but never had.

I didn’t see it growing up as a kid. The NFL certainly hadn’t shown it to me, and neither had the military. Shit, I’d watched buddies cheat on their wives with locals and hookers, and then go home and act the part of the loving husband. I’d watched wives leave their faithful men. I’d watched marriage after marriage disintegrate for a wide variety of reasons.

And then I’d met Harris, and Harris had met Layla, and they’d fallen in love, and there was no way I could doubt what they had. I saw it, and I believed in it.
 

And yeah, deep down, I’d wanted that for myself. I’d just never expected to find it.
 

And then…I met Lola. From that first time I saw her, from the way she’d stood up to me in the hospital, so determined in her care for Harris that she’d not just stood up to me but had pushed back in a way nobody ever had before. I left, but I’d never forgotten her. A year went by, missions and jobs and off time—and yeah, other girls—but I’d never forgotten her. She was just hooked into my mind, into my soul. Then I showed up at her hospital and met her, really met her, and spent a little time with her, and those hooks had been sunk deeper.
 

Each moment in her presence dug those hooks deeper.
 

Watching her come on my fingers in that Jeep on the side of the road…that had been the first realization, when I initially understood that this thing with her wouldn’t be a little fun in bed and maybe a little adventure together outside of it. This would be something else entirely.

That she’d been able to push through some kind of fear, some kind of nerves, and she’d touched me back, had gone down on me. That was my second realization. Because that blowjob, it had felt better than anything else before it. Something in her touch had gone beyond mere physical pleasure. It wasn’t something I could really put into words. It was just…
better
…somehow.

Then she did…
this
.
 

The way she’d clung to me, the way she’d urged me to give it to her harder, begging for more, the way she’d looked at me, the things she’d said, the utter abandon I’d seen in her. She’d totally committed to the moment with me. And then she’d gone for more, had gone past her own pleasure to draw more out of me, to bring me to a place I hadn’t thought possible. It had been total release, a letting go of everything, for both of us. And that was my third realization.

I knew, even if I had been with her less than a week, that I’d never want another woman again.

Lost in my thoughts, I’d lost track of what was going on or where I was, but Lola brought me back down. I was hardening again, and the sensation wrenched me out of my thoughts and back to the present, to the earth. To her.
 

She had me going erect in record time, a few scant minutes, fifteen, max—and she wasn’t even hurrying. Still curled up against me, she seemed totally content to, as she’d said, just play with me.

It was so unbearably erotic, staring down, watching her toy with my cock, idle strokes, lazy caresses, twisting her fist around the head, tracing the veins along the sides with her fingernail—shit, that tickled. She rarely repeated the same kind of touch twice in a row, which was maddening and incredible.
 

Time stood still.

Seriously, I had no idea how long she was content to just play with my cock, stroking and caressing and rubbing, never setting a pattern, never really trying to bring me to completion.

It was utterly maddening.
 

It was beautiful.

It was frustrating.

It was so fucking erotic I couldn’t handle it, but time after time I bit my tongue and held still, forced myself to just watch, to just let her do what she wanted for as long as she wanted.

The ache grew.

And grew.

It became a throb in my balls, a tension in my belly, eventually making it difficult to breathe, impossible to hold still. Every touch had me twitching, gyrating, pushing into her hand, but she ignored me and just kept her touch impossible to predict

“You have such a beautiful penis, Thresh,” she murmured, after long, long, uncountable minutes of silence.

“Thanks?”

“Would it be weird if I told you I love your cock?”
 

“No weirder than if I said I love your tits. And your pussy.” I pinched her nipple, and then cupped her hip. “And your ass.”
 

She smirked up at me, gripping my cock firmly at the base. “So…not weird?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.”

“Good, because god
damn
, Thresh, I
love
your cock. It’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. I feel so fucking lucky to be here, with you, getting to touch you like this.” She met my eyes, inquisitive. “Are you sure I’m not teasing you?