Prima Mate Page 3

  She spun around on her heels but he was too quick for her. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm and yanked her to him, crushing her against the length of his body. “Oh, but it is my decision, sweetheart,” he growled. “You can pretend all you like, but you’re not the Alpha here. I am. And I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

  Chapter Three

  For the umpteenth time that evening, Clara cursed her biology. Even though she was furious with Evander, even though she had meant every word she’d said, her body reacted instinctively to his proximity. The intensity of his scent when she was near him electrified her entire being, sending a current of thumping, irresistible arousal humming through her veins. And just like they had done earlier at the Facility, her feet stubbornly refused to move, to carry her away from the threat.

  Instead she remained rooted to the spot, caged within his thick arms, every frantic beat of her heart pulsing inexorably between her legs.

  “Please let me go,” she whispered, hating herself for how vulnerable she sounded. How submissive.

  “How can I, when I’ve been searching for you my entire life?” he said, his face buried in her hair. His voice had lost some of its aggression. “If you leave, you’re condemning me to a lifetime alone, as well. Or did you not consider that?”

  It was so hard to think straight with her emotions and body so at war with one another. Warm liquid was dribbling down her thighs, a combination of her slick and his seed. “There are other Omegas,” she mumbled. “What would you have done if my suppressants had never stopped working?”

  “But they did stop. And I’m so grateful. I would have gone to that fucking Facility every month, hoping, praying… and gone home empty-handed every time.” Letting out a groan, he cupped her buttocks and pulled her tighter against him. The granite swell of his erection pressing against her stomach was unmistakable. “Don’t you see what you do to me? Please… at least give me this one night. Let me make amends for earlier. Let me show you how good it can feel.”

  Is he really begging? Clara blinked and tried to steady her breathing. In truth, she was still desperately aroused, and well aware that nothing she did once she returned to her own apartment would fully sate that ache. Only he could. “And if I still want to leave in the morning?”

  There was a long, long pause. “Then I’ll let you go.”

  A little voice in her head whispered that he wasn’t to be trusted, that both her estrus and his rut would last for several days, that everything he had said before this promise was a reflection of his true feelings, whereas this was a desperate attempt to get her to stay.

  One of his hands slid up her body, gripped her hair, and tilted her face up. The next moment, his mouth was on hers, his tongue tracing her tightly closed lips, seeking entry.

  Clara had to force herself to resist the almost unbearable wave of longing which shot through her. “Wait,” she said, leaning back as far as she could in his iron hold. “At least let me clean myself up first.”

  “We’ll do it together.”

  “No.” He hadn’t yet seen her naked, and suddenly she felt stupidly shy. It was ridiculous, considering everything else, but she could feel her last vestige of control slipping and wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible. A little time away from him might help.

  “As you wish.” Letting go of her, he took a step back. His stormy blue eyes were dark and intent. Probing. “The bathroom’s over there. Use anything you need.”

  Clara forced herself to smile. “I won’t be long.”

  “I’ll wait right here.” He moved over to an armchair in the corner of the room and sat down, crossing one long leg so his ankle rested on his broad thigh.

  Once she’d closed the door behind her, Clara gripped the edges of the sink and stared at herself. Her carefully styled hair was a mess, escaping its pins, thick strands falling over her shoulders. Her eyes were glittering as if she had a fever, and her cheeks were flushed a hot pink. Her lips were swollen from his bruising kisses.

  After using the toilet, she stripped off her ruined dress, laid it on the counter, and pinned her hair back up as best she could before getting into the shower. Gods, Evander was tall. She had to slide the handheld attachment a long way down to her shoulder-height so as not to get her hair wet, before lifting it out of its holder and turning on the water.

  No matter what, I can’t let him get the upper hand. He thinks he’s in charge… he can believe that all he wants, but he’s underestimating me. I am Clara Pitino, and I’ve been an Alpha my entire adult life. I’ve lived, breathed, and worked as one. If I stay tonight, it’s because I choose to, not because he’s forcing me. She gasped as she aimed the powerful jet between her legs, the stream blasting against her still humming clit and sore pussy.

  The dried fluid on her inner thighs got slippery when it was wet but it still wouldn’t budge. Clara had to use copious amounts of soap and scrub it until her skin felt raw before she felt clean again.

  Once she’d washed every square inch of herself, she stood under the running water for a long time, her eyes closed, her mind racing. His intoxicating scent lingered in her nostrils even now, overpowering the zesty aroma of Evander’s soap.

  Get a fucking grip, Clara. This situation sucks ass, but it’s not the end of the world. Father still doesn’t have to find out. Nobody does. Evander’s a reasonable guy… mostly. It all could have been a lot worse. Now you’re going to dry yourself off, get dressed, and regain the upper hand.

  Even as she switched off the jet and wrapped herself in a towel, she wasn’t sure she believed herself. Her physical reaction to him was simply too strong, it had barely even abated while she was in another room.

  She would have liked to have put on some fresh clothes but her dress was all she had, so once again she slipped it over her head and tugged it down to mid-thigh. Then, taking a deep breath, after one last glance in the mirror, she opened the door.

  Evander was no longer in the armchair. Instead he was pacing back and forth like a caged animal, a glass of wine in his hand. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, and the glimpse of his broad, muscular chest and flat, ridged belly almost took Clara’s breath away. Gods, why did he have to be so damn attractive?

  “Could I have a glass?” she said, indicating his wine with a jerk of her chin.

  “Sure. Decanter’s over there.”

  Tearing her attention away from him, she focused instead on her surroundings. His bedroom walls were washed in a deep cerulean blue, and thick, white shaggy rugs tickled her bare feet as she headed to the mantelpiece. The fireplace was imposing, and she could imagine how hot the room would get when it was lit. His massive bed took up most of the space, but there was also the silvery grey armchair he’d sat in earlier.

  Pouring herself a huge glass of wine with a surprisingly steady hand, she took several sips before turning back to look at him. “Thank you.”

  He stopped pacing abruptly, then turned to face her. With his eyes on hers, unblinking, he drained his entire glass. Clara felt frozen in place, like a mouse cornered by a snake. The expression on his face was predatory, and even as the fear rose in her breast, desire trickled down her core.

  “Put the glass down and come here,” he said, his voice like a knife scraping over leather.

  Determined not to be cowed, even though all she wanted to do was turn and run, Clara mimicked him, holding his gaze and draining her wine before setting the goblet back down on the mantel and swiveling back to face him. The alcohol burned low in her belly and made her feel light-headed. Lifting her chin defiantly, she squared her shoulders and remained where she was.

  “I’m not asking again.” He took a step forward… then another.

  Clara could hear the blood roaring in her ears. A fresh wave of his scent hit her and she hated her body for the way it reacted.

  Evander stripped off his shirt, flinging it over the armchair. His square jaw was set in rigid lines of tension, his shaggy, russet hair brushing his shoulders, gleaming in the candle
light.

  Clara couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping down, taking in his broad chest, the flat discs of his peach-colored nipples, the ridges of his abs disappearing below his belt.

  Even though his hands were huge, his thick fingers were nimble as he undid the buckle and slid the leather out of the loops of his slacks with a slow, fluid motion. His belt joined his shirt on the armchair.

  “Take off your dress.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

  Still, Clara couldn’t move. Her mouth was dry, her pulse racing. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt.

  He undid his slacks but made no move to slide them off. Instead he took another step toward her, his glittering eyes still fixed on her. “If you don’t take it off, I will tear it off you.”

  Everything inside her screamed at her to run, to yell at him, to do something to prove that he couldn’t treat her this way.

  At the same time, a long, agonizing thump of desire traveled from her lower belly straight to her clit.

  She was furious.

  She was cornered.

  She was hopelessly aroused.

  In two long strides, Evander had reached her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. Then, almost casually, his nostrils flaring, he gripped the neck of her dress with both hands and tore it clean off her body, exposing her completely to his gaze.

  The sight of Clara naked was almost his undoing. Evander clenched his fists, drinking her in. The faint lemon zest of his soap did nothing to mask her scent, and he inhaled deeply as his eyes traveled down her form. Her breasts were perfect, the tops sloping down to dusky pink, hard nipples he couldn’t wait to feel. Her waist dipped in slightly, then curved back out to generous hips and round, full thighs. Even though she had streaked blonde and dark hair, he could tell she was a natural brunette from the neat strip on her mound.

  Evander’s cock was so hard, he could barely stand it.

  The time she’d spent in the bathroom had felt like an eternity, and every second which ticked by had only increased his desire for her. He’d fully intended to be gentle with her, to control himself, to make amends for taking her virginity so roughly, but the moment she’d re-entered the bedroom, all rational thought had gone out the window.

  Evander was a beast, driven by only one desire, one need, one overwhelming urge—to give in to his rut and make this stunning creature his.

  The slender gold chain around her neck glinted as her pulse raced beneath it, and her eyes were huge as she gazed up at him. He could smell her fear, and even though a part of him longed to quash it, another part relished the knowledge that he was the cause of it.

  Picking her up, he took the few short strides to the bed and dropped her onto the blankets. She didn’t say a word, didn’t resist, not even when he gripped her ankles and tugged her legs apart to expose her fully to his view.

  Her sex was flushed a deep pink, her labia swollen, the nub of her clit already peeking out from beneath the hood. Evander was gratified to see the way the entrance to her cunt already glistened with her slick. Overwhelmed by the urge to taste it, he bent his head and worked his tongue inside the tight hole, his cock jerking as the sweet, musky fluid coated his taste buds and sent his rut into overdrive.

  Clara remained rigid but she was unable to prevent a gasp as he fucked her with his tongue, deliberately staying away from the place he knew she was desperate for him to lick, instead lapping at the slick already seeping from her pussy.

  Gods, but he was going to make her beg before the night was over. He was going to strip away every last shred of her carefully cultivated self-control until he possessed her completely.

  Gripping her ankles again, he lifted her legs until her knees were up to her chest. “Keep them there,” he growled. “Hold yourself open for me.”

  When she didn’t comply, he bit the inside of her thigh, a sharp nip which made her cry out. She immediately reached up and clasped the backs of her thighs.

  “Good girl.”

  Her entire body was trembling as he spread her sex with his fingers, exposing more of her to his gaze—and tongue. Without even thinking about it, he began to growl, the vibrations in his chest traveling straight down to his cock, which was already leaking.

  Clara moaned, and a little dribble of slick slipped down toward her puckered anus.

  As badly as Evander wanted to mount her there and then, as desperate as he was to plunge his cock into her velvet heat and fuck her every which way until he had finally had his fill, her words from earlier still echoed in his mind. The last remaining rational part of his mind knew that if he didn’t make this pleasurable for her, he might never get the chance again.

  There was no way he would allow that to happen.

  With his thumb, he pulled the hood back from her clit, exposing it fully. Then he placed his tongue at her puckered back hole and licked all the way up, slowly, sliding between her folds, until he encountered the hard bud which pulsated gratifyingly as he tasted it.

  Clara almost came up off the bed and her raw, helpless groan went straight to his groin.

  With precise, methodical strokes, Evander licked her clit, lapping at it briskly, drawing his tongue up over it again and again, faster and faster, until it was as swollen and rigid as a pea, pink and glistening, leaping visibly beneath his ministrations.

  She was on the edge; her whole body was shaking. Slick was seeping from her spread cunt, coating her asshole and pooling on the blankets.

  A wave of anger filled him as he realized she was fighting it, that she was still trying desperately to maintain control.

  Wrapping his lips around her clit, allowing his growl to vibrate through it, he sucked hard and tongued the stiff nub simultaneously.

  With a broken sob, Clara shuddered and came, her sex contracting so hard, he could feel it against his chin.

  Still he didn’t let up, sucking and licking that bundle of nerves until she was sobbing, writhing…

  Begging.

  Not giving her a moment to recover, he plunged two fingers into her slick-filled cunt, curling them up, feeling for that rough spot he knew would drive her out of her mind. His tongue on her clit moved in time with the pads of his fingertips rubbing against her G-spot and Clara tensed, tightening around him before she let out a raw, primal howl and squirted again and again, spurts of her delicious slick coating his hand right up to the elbow.

  Only when he felt he’d wrung every ounce of pleasure from her did he withdraw his fingers and move them to her mouth, wiping her juice across her lips.

  “Taste it,” he growled. “The proof that you’re enjoying this.”

  Her cheeks were flushed, she was lost in her heat. Her chest heaving, she let out another moan and he took the opportunity to slip his index finger between her plump lips. He half expected her to bite him but instead she sucked it greedily, calling forth visions of her doing the same thing to his cock.

  Evander groaned at the vivid, erotic image and pushed his slacks down his hips with his free hand. When he tugged his finger out from between her lips with a wet pop, Clara looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. Hunger clouded her emerald gaze as she lay still, her pert tits rising and falling with her every breath.

  Gotcha, Evander thought triumphantly. You’re mine now.

  Suddenly craving the sight of her ass, he gripped her hips and flipped her over before tugging her up onto her knees. Clara didn’t resist, as he knew she wouldn’t. Instead she arched her back and buried her face in her arms, presenting herself to him the way females had done for males since the beginning of time.

  His cock felt too small for its skin as he yanked his pants off from around his ankles and positioned himself behind her, gripping her plump buttocks, tugging them apart to get a better view.

  Gods, but she was the most desirable thing he’d ever seen.

  Unable to wait another second, Evander positioned himself and began to slide in slowly, with much more care than he had the first time. Clara’s moan was muffled
by her arms, and the sound sent more tingles of desire down his spine. His balls felt heavy, his lower belly tight with lust, but he restrained his urge to thrust as deep and hard as he wanted to.

  The position she was in made her waist look tiny and he gripped it with both hands, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her belly. Using every last ounce of self-control he had, he went as slowly as he could bear, pushing his cock further and further into her tight, wet heat, until her heart-shaped ass met his pelvis. Then he stayed there, embedded to the hilt, giving her a moment to adjust.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was thick.

  Her response was a breathy sigh which he took as affirmation. To make things easier, he reached down and found her clit, rigid and slippery beneath his fingers. As he began to stroke it, she shuddered, and the next minute, he felt her contracting around his shaft.

  She was coming already, letting out muffled, throaty moans and pushing herself back against him as if desperate to feel him deeper. Desperate for him to fuck her.

  It was too much for Evander. With a raw groan, his fingers still sliding over her slick nub, he allowed the beast to take over.

  Chapter Four

  The sensations sweeping through her body were unlike any Clara had ever known, and she was helpless to resist them. Her logical, rational brain—the sharp mind which had gotten her so far in her career and of which she was so proud—had all but disintegrated at the first swipe of Evander’s tongue between her spread thighs.

  Torn didn’t even begin to cover it.

  All her life, she had maintained her stalwart control, her carefully preserved dignity, her cool demeanor, only to lose it all in the face of full-blown estrus.

  Now he was mounting her like she was a bitch in heat, his fingers digging into her hip, his pelvis smacking against her ass… and she was loving every moment of it. Her eyes closed, her cheek hot against her forearm, she gave herself over to the way he was thrusting deep, filling her, relieving an ache she hadn’t even known was there.