Stir

My hand goes around her neck as my sanity starts to slip. I am quickly falling, tumbling into psychosis, and I am not sure I will recover from it. “You can fucking say all of it, Imogen. Those succulent pink lips can tell me everything you want. Can’t you, baby?” She is looking at me like she doesn’t know if she should run or come.

Her pulse quickens under my hand. The insanity is on the surface. I am barely skimming through it. It is grazing the tip, warning me that I am a movement, a flicker away from tipping over and showing her how crazy I am when it comes to her.

“I-I don’t, Alex. Please.” She says, gripping the front of my shirt.

“You are going to let me do anything I want to this innocent body, aren’t you? You know I am going to mark you, baby.”

“Yes. No. Oh lord in heaven.” She is still fighting it, and that won’t do.

“Raise your arms, baby.” She raises them no hesitation. My commands are like a switch for her. I have witnessed the conflict inside of her become null once I demand something of her. My little church mouse is a submissive in her soul. Lucky for her, her man has a dominant spirit for her only.

Her shirt falls to the floor, and I curse when I realize she doesn’t have on a bra. “Shit.” My mouth is dry even though the rest of me is sweating.

Her arms cross over her chest. I see the flush indicating her lust, but her movement from leg to leg shows me her guilt. “Uncross your arms, Pequeña. Don't ever hide from me.” I whisper in her ear.

She bites her lip and looks at me before her hands drop to her side. My fingers move back and forth on her bare nipples, salivating as they harden and taunt me, teasing me, coaxing me to taste them and bite them again.

When her head falls back, and the moan leaves her lips, my cock jumps with joy. Watching her give herself over to the sensations is beautiful. I lower my head and suck them each into my mouth. Her hands slide through my hair, and she grips me, pulling me closer to her chest. “Oh. Alex.”

“I know, baby. You taste like fucking jolly ranchers, my sweet girl.” Jesus, this girl is so fucking sweet. I want my mouth on that pussy with her sugar dripping down my chin. My body is shaking. My cock is knocking at the door, demanding to be let in and let loose on his new toy.

I push him down with the palm of my hand, promising him soon, but I need her out of her mind. I need her so fucking crazed for my cock that she is begging me to stuff her. I need to breed her. It is the only way to keep her.

I walk her backward toward the bed. My mouth has not stopped licking, sipping, and biting from her tits and mouth. I don’t want an inch of space between us. With my arm gripping her waist, I lower her to the bed, slowly, laying her down, trying to not let her mind stray from this moment.

I continue kissing her and touching her, relishing the way she is keening and rocking her head back and forth. Her nipples are so fucking sensitive; I use it to my advantage. Adding more pressure and suction to her pink raspberries, I slide her pants down and kick the offending items away from us. One more fucking thing is no longer in my way. “Alex, I can’t take it.” She whines as her back bows off the bed.

“Me either, baby,” I say against her lips before kissing her and moving down to look at my new prize. Such a sweet innocence she has been keeping between her legs. Her panties are soaked and virginal white with a wet spot the size of my fist on them.

I rub my nose against the spot and inhale. “Fucking cinnamon buns.” This girl is literally every corner store treat I have ever indulged in. I haven’t stopped pinching her nipples. Her cries are louder, and her begging is unremitting, backed up by her hand and body trying to move me where she needs me. My cock leaks watching her lose her mind for the pleasure only I can give her.

Kissing her stomach, I nip at it and close my eyes, saying a silent prayer that everything I am aiming to do works. I need her bred, swollen, and her last name on a document proving to the world she is my woman. My mate. My responsibility. An innocent little angel who gets dirty just for me. Ironic really. The very thing I am forcing her to question is the same thing I need to grant my wish.