Loved by the Alpha (Mature)

There are a lot of things that make me say holy shit. In this instance, I have two: Rhys's mouth that suddenly met my sex and seeing myself on the ceiling. "What the—" I was breathless. The rest of the question trailed off when Rhys's tongue started working. He chuckled first at my reaction, and it was easily the most annoying yet sexiest chuckle I had ever heard. It made me wanna smack his head.

I look up. Insecure as I was, I wanted to look away but I couldn't. I watched myself on the bed, hair splayed across the white silk sheets. My lips were parted to accommodate deep breaths that held me together. I watched his hands travel up my stomach, fingertips grazing sensitive skin until they reached my chest. Then, I grip.

I whimper. It was the same time Rhys decided to stick a finger inside. He hooks the digit to a sweet spot and I felt like giving the man a medal for finding it so quickly. As his tongue flicked against the sensitive hood, his finger worked its magic. When I looked down, I wanted his children.

The upper half of Rhys's face consisted of dark eyes with an impure smolder and a heap of messy hair from being tugged on. He was watching me intensely. Rhys is watching me touch myself to the sight of me touching myself, all the while being pleasured by his mouth. Don't faint. This might be my most erotic experience so far.

Rhys held the back of my thighs, prying my legs open when they threatened to close. He kissed, sucked, and nibbled on the right spots. All of it made my hips buck weakly forward and back. All of it made my core tighten as a threat for release. I didn't know what I wanted to watch more: our reflection on the mirror above or Rhys's gorgeous face dripping with lust and my liquids.

His tongue tickles the sensitive flesh. With two fingers now inside and his mouth showing all of its skill, I let myself go. I moaned, giving no effort to silence them. My back arched, partly leaving the bed. My hands held onto my mentor's head. My fingers pulled at his thick brown hair.

He lapped the juice that oozed out. Rhys took it all into his mouth and I watched with half-closed eyes that I was forced to keep open. He pulled away after sucking in the remains. I was left sprawled on the bed, free to be touched wherever he wants to touch; free to be kissed, free to be used, free to be fucked to his desire.

He appeared on top of me, now butt-naked with a packet of foil. He bit one corner and opened it until he found a piece of rubber that'll prevent us from having countless unsolicited child arguments in the future. I was moved to the center of the bed. For a few seconds, I took the chance to admire RhysTravino's physique—well-built but not overly built, muscular but sexy rather than scary. And God, why is he so handsome? Why am I in this man's bed? I froze. I bet a lot of people are gonna nag me for this, "Wait."

Rhys paused, face a mask of frustration and confusion. Looking closer, I also found a tinge of concern. He had just rolled the rubber on when he spoke, "What?"

"D-do you really wanna do this with me?" my hands were on his shoulders and I rubbed weakly, hoping that he wouldn't burst at my interruption.

His frown turned into a glare. I felt his tip at my entrance and fuck, did it feel good. He kissed my cheek and when he spoke again, he sounded deadly, "Ask me that again," said Rhys. He rubbed his hardness against my slit to prove that yes, he does wanna have sex with me.

"Yeah, but there are a lot of other—oh my fuck."

Through gritted teeth, Rhysspoke teasingly with a voice that would've made me wet if I wasn't already, "Fucking annoying," as he pushed it all in. Rhys watched my face as I took it in, first half of him, then the rest until we reached the base of his shaft. His mouth absorbed my moans as his hands kept me from shattering.

I felt him deep inside, as deep as deep can be in this context. I throbbed around him and it only made things better for both of us. Rhys's attempt for reassurance was him showering my face with gentle kisses at random spots. When he reached my neck, I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror. To say the least, it had me throbbing again.

Rhys began to move his hips, slipping his hardness in and out, deep and shallow, sometimes ramming it hard before proceeding with slow strokes that reached whatever the hell it needed to reach. I hugged Rhys close. His head was against my neck, arms keeping him up and I could hear his soft grunts against me. I traced what I can reach of his back and silently appreciated the way he's built. Time to time I'd scratch or suck on his shoulders.

After an unsure duration of minutes, Rhys pulled away. He stuck himself deep inside—the type that'll make a woman see stars. That's what I was seeing. I wanted to talk. I wanted to tell him how fucking amazing he feels, but I couldn't find words. It's funny, the irony of it all: I write but I don't have words.

Rhy looked wicked. Not wicked as in the usual type of wicked during our sessions. Wicked as in he looks like he knows a hundred ways to kill me in his room—all of them I'll love. He kissed me once. It was quick and I wanted more. "Watch yourself, Gia," said Rhys, breathless. He lifted himself enough for me to see myself in the mirror. Again, since when the fuck did I look so hot?

Rhys's hands gripped my waist. It hurt enough to draw my attention back to him who was doing the most fan-fucking-tastic job I've seen in a while. Rhys strokes became harder. The tip slammed against the extent of my insides, desperate to be taken fully until he climaxes. To his convenience, I spread my legs wider. We were wet, both with sweat and of the liquids that came from where our bodies connect. The sheets underneath me were damp.

Rhys's hand found a breast, squeezed hard, then found my neck, applying pressure around. My eyes rolled back. Had I known that he'd be this good, I would've gotten naked the moment I stepped into his damn mansion.

The thrusts slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. Our eyes met as Rhyssat himself at the back of the bed, back against a pile of pillows. There are a lot of words I can use to describe the way he looks like on his bed—like a king waiting to be served. I'll settle with godly.

He slap my leg weakly, "Ride me," he said. I did not need to be told twice.

I got on top of my mentor and the way he watched me would've made me wanna cower in shyness or blush till my face burns off. In our current situation, however, it made me feel wanted and that I deserve his want. I kissed him hard, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste myself. As we kissed, I sat slowly and engulfed inch after inch of his length until he reached his favorite spot.

I bounce up and down. For a good while, Rhyslet me do whatever I please. His hands would either squeeze my breasts or grab my neck to pull me in for a kiss. That good free while was over when he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me down. I pulsated around the hardness buried inside. Rhys move me forward and back by the thighs, stirring my insides. He watched the action—his length being used to push a woman to the brink of her pleasure. I watched his face—brows knitted, lips parted, and tongue wetting the already-wet lips once in a while.

The big man applied pressure to my lower belly with his palm. The sensation is indescribable. All I can say is that it made me feel him more as if I had not been feeling him enough. People need to try this shit.

I continue going up and down for our pleasure. He'd slap my behind, slap my chest, and thrust up to meet my falls. It did not take long before my orgasm hit me like a ten-wheeler, strong enough to throw me forward and fall against Rhyswho was having an equally high time spewing his seed into the rubber inside. Damn rubber.

We kiss again. We kiss for a long time. Even after he had reached his peak, he trusted, stimulating raw flesh. I was about to lift myself up to pull the man out when he groaned in protest, "I like it inside," he said, pouting. He didn't mean to be so adorable. I found him adorable.

When we finally regained a bit of mindfulness, I propped myself up with hands to his chest. Rhys roll me over, still inside me. He sucked on my chest and drew his hips back and forth, prompting a second round. Two of his fingers found my clit and rub slowly with the perfect spot against a pad of skin. I twitched.

The hands were pried away. I opened one eye to see Rhysand his usual relaxed blank face. He kissed my chin. He drew himself out of me. The man sat on his bed, leaving me alone and cold on the big white bed. Then, he stood at the foot. He looked expectant and I already knew what he was expecting.I crawled to Rhys and with my knees near the edge, I lowered my face. Then, I took him into my mouth for the second time today. I can taste Rhys. His hands were limp at his sides, once again letting me pleasure him how I please.

When his hand did move, it was to grope a breast. Teasing yet so fucking sexy.

Minutes later, we found ourselves in the bathroom. Despite the cold counter beneath me, I felt hot. We moved together again. The heat had numerous sources: friction, Rhys's drive, Rhys's warm eyes, Rhys's body, our breaths in the air, burning lust. Even the water from the shower felt like gasoline. I don't know exactly how many minutes or hours had passed, but when we stepped out of the tiled room, I was burnt—marked by Rhys for life.

We were quiet but it was comfortable. My hair was a wet mess with a towel around my shoulders to capture the cold droplets. I dried myself off as my mentor racked his closet for some bottoms. Once he was dressed in black sweats, he handed me a shirt, all the while blabbering

"You can get your clothes," said Ki, drying his hair with a towel, "And feel free to join me for a cuddle session."

I appreciated Rhys' attempt. I gathered my clothes from the bed, getting lost along with the pleasure vibrating in my body. I laid them on my side. Rhys' shirt seems to be more comfortable. And I take it and put it on.