Alpha Werewolf Complete Set

He digs his nails into his wrists to keep from lurching forward and just claiming her. "Slowly. Don't- don't hurt yourself. It's supposed- It's supposed to feel good," he hisses through clenched teeth. He truly doesn't know if it'll work. All the books say she has to take seed inside her in order to stop feeling this way. They describe it as being aroused, but to a degree where the ache is a physical discomfort, like an emptiness that stretched on forever. It sounds worse than his rut, which leaves him horny and aching, but never to a point where he feels as though he is not in control of his own body.

For a little while, there is nothing but the sound of her trying to steady her breathing and his pulse pounding in his temples. Then, she gasps, "I um- I think-" she gives a sharp little cry that he knows is from pushing her fingers deep inside herself, something she's never experimented with before. He can't tell if the sounds she's making is more pleasure or pain, so he looks up and he regrets it instantly, because she's really such a terrible, wonderful sight.

She's all splayed out in front of him, like a feast just waiting for him to dig in. Her legs are spread open and she's tugged her sleeping gown up her breasts, one hand between her legs with her forefinger sliding in and the other massaging her breasts. Milk beads at the tip, dripping down and wetting her stomach. Her lips are parted, the bottom lip bitten red and he wants to lean in and capture that lip for himself, wants to kiss her until she has his mark all over her body.

The scent of arousal is overwhelming now and when she manages to get a finger inside her, he can't help but lean closer, eyes locking onto the cute pink folds parted to allow her slim finger inside.

She's really very wet, arousal fluid coating her finger until it's glistening wet. "Is it- am I doing it right, Erik?" she asks, so wholly innocent and uncertain that he groans.

"Do you feel better?" he manages to growl out.

"It's- it's weird," she whimpers. "It's weird, but I feel- I feel-" she whines and her finger moves deeper, feeling along her walls as her hips rock up and into her own fingers, chasing after that feeling of fullness. She lets out a low, keening moan and throws her head back. Her free hand closes over her breasts, pinching her pink nipple between slim fingers.

She looks absolutely delectable, touching herself like a little whore. He's so used to participating in this part of sex that he's never actually seen a woman finger themselves before. She looks so tiny and yet, her finger slides in and out of her hole so easily. He wonders if he could put in another, get her hole nice and stretched so he can fill her up- He shakes his head. He's not going to take advantage of her when she's like this.

She is a quick learner, eventually figuring out that her clit is exceptionally sensitive. She starts paying attention to her clit as well, abandoning her nipples to rub her clit as she moans and writhes on the bed. She's no longer spread open like she's putting a show for him. She's chasing after her own pleasure now, curling up on her side with her hands between her legs.

He feels his own cock hardening, straining in the confines of his pants. He's not used to just watching without doing anything either, but he doesn't want to scare her. She smells slightly frightened still, likely because she doesn't understand what's happening to her body.

She comes with a bitten off moan, body seizing and tensing, and then relaxing with a shuddering exhale. The smell of relief is sweet on her skin, and a second later, she's aroused and desperate for completion again.

She looks up with her bright, lovely eyes, lashes glistening with tears. "Can you- can you please help me, Erik?" she asks.

She sounds so pitiful, like she's in pain and on the verge of more tears and a second later, she is, tears spilling down her cheeks as she gives up fingering herself.

"Please, Erik?" she whimpers, folding her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She looks so tiny and fragile, all curled up. "Please?" she hiccups.

His resolve cracks, moving forward to gather her up into his arms. She's burning up, her skin flushed all the way down to her chest. There are pink trails on her arms and her thighs, where she's raked her nails along the skin. It would fade in time and with the shifter blood in her waking up, she'll heal faster than normal humans would.

It's bad enough with the little distance between them, but this close, she's drenched in sweat and arousal, in those tempting pheromones that makes his wolf surface and howl with the need to claim, to pin her down and rut into her until she's full of his seed.

"Maybe I'm doing something wrong," she turns her face into his shoulder. "It feels terrible. Does sex always feel this terrible, Erik?" she asks. "Why would you do this to yourself?" she asks.

"It's not- it's not supposed to feel bad," he manages to say, staring fixedly at the edge of the bed and doing his best to ignore how good she feels underneath him. He rubs her back a little and kisses her temple. She tastes like sweat and arousal.

"Will you show me? Please, Erik," she sniffles. Her body is radiating heat and she nuzzles against him, seeking out the human contact her body has been craving ever since this started.

"I- I don't want you to regret this later, dove," he says, his pet name for her slipping out again. Dove, because she's like one, always slipping out of his grip and flying off to do more important things.

"I won't," she promises. "I won't regret. I want you- I want you to touch me. Please, please, Erik. I trust you. You're my best friend," she says.

He already feels like the worst best friend ever, making her handle this all on her own, being here at all. He doesn't deserve her.

Her cheeks and eyes are both fever-bright. She clings to him tightly, hands tightening around his shirt. Her nightgown is still bunched around her waist, showing off pale skin and glistening inner thighs.

"I could- I could wake my parents. They'd know what to do," he says, but even as he's saying this, she's shaking her head no, tears filling her eyes.

"No, Erik, "she cries. "I want you- I want you."

His grip on her is too tight for him to even pretend that he's going to let her go at all. It feels too good. She feels too good.

She gives a little sigh, relaxing into his grasp, and he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. It hurts that she feels perfect in his lap like this. "I'm right here, dove. I've got you," he says. He's trembling with the effort to push down his instincts and not pin her onto her back, fill her up and fix everything. As terrible as it sounds, he knows that if he fucks her, she'll feel better. He thought he had time. "I love you, dove," he whispers heatedly against her temple, brushing back hair from her damp forehead.

"I love you too," she answers so readily that he isn't sure he's heard her right.

"You- you do?" he asks but she's lost to her haze of arousal again, whimpering and arching into him, her voice tight and anxious when she pleads for him to do something- anything.

She's getting worse, having trouble speaking in full sentences and whimpering like she's in a lot of pain. Her skin is sticky with sweat and hot to the touch. He can feel the heat through his shirt. Her nightgown clings to her skin, sweat making every curve, every dip of her body visible. She almost looks more naked with the shirt on than without.