Stuffed (Mistletoe, Montana, 7): A Possessive Alpha Holiday Romance Page 4

  “Then take me back to your place, Beau. Let's make that a reality.” He pulled back and the heavy-lidded expression on his face probably matched mine to a T. He didn’t speak for long seconds, and a worried part of me wondered if he was having second thoughts.

  Beau seemed like the type of man who wouldn't rush into this kind of thing. I mean, I certainly never saw myself doing anything like this so quickly. But then again I didn’t feel like this was fast at all. I’d wanted Beau for years, and although it now seemed so stupid to have waited for this moment and not just tell him how I felt and what I wanted with him back then, I felt like denying myself had somehow made this even more special.

  And to know he’d waited for me- saved himself for me--maybe he felt that same way, too.

  This wasn’t fast or spur of the moment. This should have happened years ago.

  “Take me back to your place, Beau. I only want you.”

  7

  Wellsie

  If someone asked me how the hell I’d gotten from the bakery to Beau’s, I couldn’t have told them to save my life. Everything was a blur, these snapshot moments that flashed by in my head. It was like my subconscious had taken control, knowing I was in no frame of mind to make sense of everything with the emotional overload going on inside of me.

  But here we were, me pulling my car beside Beau’s vehicle in front of his home, cutting the engine, and climbing out. He was already out of his vehicle and standing at the front, his focus trained on me like he couldn't take his eyes off me. And didn’t that just make a girl feel wanted in more ways than one.

  When I got close enough I could have touched him, Beau reached out and took my hand, twining his fingers through my much smaller ones, and leading us to the front door. I felt his focus on me numerous times during that short trip, and a smile tugged at my lips in response.

  He opened the door and pushed it in, the instant smell of clean, fresh pine filling my nose. A light came on seconds later and I took in his home. It was clean and organized, a small Christmas tree off to the corner--the source of that delicious pine smell. There was a small loft above, which I assumed was the bedroom, and a short hallway directly in front of me a few feet away.

  The kitchen was to my left, all dark marble counters and oak cabinets. The counters were sparsely filled, with just a coffee maker, a mixer, and some cooking utensils in a jar. The stove was located on an island in the center, a pot rack hanging above the burners and showcasing copper pots and pans. The sink was across from the stove and situated right under a large window that probably had the prettiest view in the morning.

  I looked to the right at the living room, took note of the rich brown leather couch and a recliner seated across from a fireplace. I inhaled, smelling the remnants in the air of a fire he must have had just last night since the scent still hung in the air. A stack of freshly cut wood was beside the hearth, and I imagined he cut the logs himself. A flush stole over me as I envisioned him shirtless with an axe, like some kind of primal lumberjack doing all that manly stuff.

  I tore my focus away from appraising his place, and faced him. He watched me, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and I liked the way he stared at me, as if he had all the time in the world to let me explore his domain… as if he liked me being here checking things out. I don’t know how I knew that, but I felt that reality with such certainty it made me swallow.

  “I like your place,” I said softly, and felt a little stupid after the words left me.

  “I like having you here.” His voice was rough. I liked it. A lot.

  “Would you like something to drink? Maybe a beer, glass of wine?”

  I licked my lips and slowly shook my head. I didn’t want alcohol to dim the effect on my body right now, my arousal potent enough.

  “Do you want anything?”

  God. I sure as hell do.

  “Yes,” I said instead, my voice low, husky from my desire. I saw the change in his expression as his lust became almost tangible around him.

  “And what's that, Wellsie?” He took a step toward me and I wondered if he was aware of it. “And what is it that you want?” He lowered his head slightly but kept his eyes trained on me. The effect made him look predatory in the best of ways.

  “You--” I didn’t get any other words out, because as soon as that lone one spilled from my lips, Beau made a rough sound deep in his chest and was in front of me a second later.

  His hand was curled around my nape, his lips already on mine. I curled my fingers around his bulging biceps, holding on as he took control of the kiss, as he licked and nipped at me, stroked his tongue against mine, and made the most deliciously erotic sound from in his throat.

  He broke away but by this point I was desperate and ready to finish what we’d started at the bakery. “More, Beau,” I moaned, not caring how crazed I sounded. My panties were wet, my nipples tingling, and all I could think about was him taking me upstairs, laying me out, and having his way with me. “Take me upstairs. Please.”

  Before I knew what was happening, Beau had me up and in his arms, holding me as if I weighed nothing, and started striding toward the stairs. He had his hands on my ass, cupping the mounds, holding me close to his much bigger body. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his body wide and muscular. Being pressed against him let me really feel how big he was, this massive presence that surrounded me.

  This position allowed me to feel the hard length pressed against his fly, and I gasped at the size. But then again, everything about Beau was big, so this shouldn’t have surprised me.

  He kissed me over and over again, pushing his tongue into my mouth and retreating, doing this repeatedly until I was squirming in his arms and desperate for more.

  I was hungry for more… starved for everything Beau had to offer.

  We were at the top of the landing, now in his bedroom loft, and he slowly slid me down his body so I felt that hard erection moving against my belly.

  “I’m never going to stop,” he murmured against my mouth, his hands on my shoulders, then slowly moving down as he slid those massive palms right over my breasts. I gasped against his lips when he thumbed the digits over my turgid peaks, then took them between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking them through the material of my shirt.

  “Tell me how good it feels,” he murmured against my lips as he continued to pull at the hard bud. “Tell me how good I'm making you feel.”

  I closed my eyes and let my head fall back slightly on my neck. I let the sensations move through me, wanting the clothes off, wanting nothing separating our bare flesh.

  “I’ve never felt this good,” I moaned, my hands on his shoulders now, my nails digging into his flesh. “I never imagined anything could ever feel this good.”

  He groaned. “It’s because we were made for each other.

  Yes. God. Yes.

  “Tell me what else you want me to do to you.” He had his mouth on my throat now, the hard pants of his warm respirations against my flesh causing goosebumps to flare along my arms.

  “I don’t know,” I mewled honestly. I had never done this before, but I knew one thing… “I want you to do everything.” The harsh sound that tore from him had me opening my eyes and looking into his face. His huge body was curved toward me blocking out everything behind him, causing this shield of muscular flesh to surround me.

  “Jesus, Wellsie.” He sounded like he was in pain. “I’m seconds away from coming in my damn jeans just from hearing you say that.”

  “I want you to touch me,” I whispered. “I want more of your kisses.” I arched into him, this erotic strength moving through me. “I want us on that bed with you over me… between my thighs.”

  We both groaned at the same time after I said that last part.

  He stopped kissing my neck and pulled back, the arousal on his face so clear I felt like I could reach out and touch it.

  He closed his eyes and bit his lip, and I found the entire sight so masculine and erotic that I clenched my
thighs together to stem off the flow of wetness spilling form my pussy.

  “You’re irrevocably mine, Wellsie.” He opened his eyes and I was shocked by the declaration in his words.

  “The bed,” I whispered, and he grunted before lifting me again and striding to the huge mattress. Once I was on my back, I went to work on taking my pants and panties off, something in me acting on its own. It was like I was having an out of body experience as I watched him watch me, as I got undressed and showed him parts of me no one else had ever seen. Parts that no one else would ever see.

  “The shirt,” he ground out.

  I sat up and got rid of what he wanted, then went for my bra. And then I lay there on his bed, the sheets and comforter smelling like him, my body on fire with desire, and I stared into green eyes that refused to move away from me.

  “You’re still dressed,” I moaned, almost whined.

  The smirk he gave me was so damn sexy, and then he was undressing as well, peeling off one layer at a time until I felt my eyes widen and my breath catch when he stood in front of me naked.

  Oh. God.

  He seemed so big fully clothed, but now that he was naked, all that flesh on display, this sliver of fear and approval slammed into me.

  Defined planes with shadows cast over the bumps and ridges, the hard lines of muscle. He had a light sprinkling of hair along his pectoral muscles, then a trail leading down to his abdomen and lower still. His cock was standing straight out at me, monstrously huge and hard, the crown slightly thicker than the shaft, a dot of pre-cum at the tip looking like a crystal.

  I became impossibly wetter.

  “Come here,” I spoke softly, my focus still locked on all… that.

  He was on the bed in a second, his body hovering over mine, his cock bobbing from the motion.

  “Touch me,” I begged again.

  His jaw was clenched, the dark scruff starting to come in along his cheeks and jaw making him even more attractive to me.

  Beau had his hand between my legs and moved his fingers back and forth, rubbing me, stroking me, being gentle yet driving my pleasure higher. He leaned back so he could watch himself as he touched me, his biceps flexing, the muscles in his chest straining as if he were doing everything not to pounce on me.

  The friction caused a delicious burn inside me, and I spread my thighs wider, giving him all the access to me. “Beau,” I cried out, my orgasm so close to the surface.

  “You’re soaked for me,” he breathed out as if mesmerized, amazed by this. “Your cream is slipping down my hand.”

  I bit my lip and closed my eyes at the sound of how pleased he was by this fact.

  “I bet I’ll slide right in,” he murmured as if to himself.

  I reached up and grabbed hold of his biceps, curling my fingers into him as my pleasure mounted. Faster and faster he rubbed me, moving the heel of his hand against my clit while he pressed his fingers slightly against my virgin hole. And when I opened my eyes, I saw he still watched what he did to me, this drugged-expression of pleasure on his face.

  My body wasn’t mine any longer. He worked me over like he knew what set me off. Like he knew me.

  And then I came, kicking my head back, arching my breasts, and gripping the comforter beneath me as the ecstasy wracked me.

  I was a relaxed mess once it was all said and done, but then he pressed his body more.

  His huge, hard cock was nestled right between my thighs, the length sliding easily through my slicked fold.

  “Oh fuck. Wellsie. Fuck, Wellsie.”

  He was ready for me.

  I was so ready for him.

  A deep, almost feral growl left him. “That’s right. I am so fucking ready for you.”

  I realized I said those words out loud, but I didn't care, wasn’t even embarrassed. I just wanted us to go further… go all the way.

  “Spread your legs more, Wellsie. Let me really get in there.”

  I did as he said, so lost in my lust for Beau and the feeling of all that male prowess pressed against me.

  With my pussy lips spread apart, he started a slow grind against me. Back and forth. Back and forth. I found myself lifting my hips to meet his thrusting hips, needing that friction as much as he clearly did. I knew my eyes were wide as I watched him. They felt like saucers.

  And as he started to move faster, I pushed my hips against him harder.

  “Wellsie,” he groaned my name, and my inner muscles clenched from that sound alone. “God, the fact you’re so primed for me, your body so receptive to my touch… makes me feel like a fucking animal let loose in the wild. I feel uncontrollable with you.”

  “I don’t want this moment to be controlled,” I blurted out, but didn't care because I was too far gone to filter my words.

  He pulled back and closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “I could come just from you saying that,” he gritted out. When he opened his eyes the green seemed to glow in the dim lighting. “I have never done this before, yet it feels so natural, like I was made to make you feel good, like I was made to make you mine.”

  I moaned, the sound tearing from me like I had no control over my body. “I feel the same, Beau.”

  No more talking.

  Just more of you.

  Me.

  And this exquisite pleasure moving between us.

  8

  Beau

  She was on fire. And so was I. My body was this inferno, this factory pumping out heat and energy, and it was all because of Wellsie. It was all for her.

  She writhed under me, begged, pleaded, words coming from her that couldn’t be deciphered, but ones that told me she was ready for this… for me.

  I leaned down again and started running my tongue up the side of her throat. The very thought of finally claiming Wellsie had a thrill moving through me. I leaned back--because I couldn’t help myself-and looked between her thighs.

  God, she was pink and smooth, slick and slightly swollen from her need. That feminine slit had my body tightening and my cock jerking.

  I’d never known someone could be this… hungry.

  My cock throbbed, the organ hard and so damn thick that all I could think about was being buried inside her and easing the pain that settled right between my thighs. I felt like I didn't have much control over myself as I grabbed my dick and started stroking myself from root to tip before twisting my palm and scraping it along the crown.

  I gritted my teeth as I spread the pre-cum along my flesh, using it as lube as I kept staring at her pussy.

  I still tasted her on my lips and tongue, and the image of my face buried between her legs back at the bakery had me stroking my cock faster.

  Wellsie lowered her eyes down to my dick, watching as I jerked off. I wanted her to get a show, and knew she liked watching me by the way her breathing changed, the visual affirmation of her increased arousal. I moved my palm up to my cockhead, squeezed the tip for a second, and let out a gust of breath, the pressure feeling incredible.

  “You like watching?”

  She licked her lips and nodded before flicking her eyes back up to mine. “You’re so big.”

  I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice and those words. Fuck.

  I then opened my eyes and looked at her pussy again. Her intimate lips were parted, spread because her legs were widened. My tongue swelled at how pink she was, and how tight that little hole was. I could see how swollen her clit was, felt lightheaded at how her cream glistened because there's so much for me.

  Sweat coated my body, and my heart thundered like a freight train. I stopped stroking myself and leaned forward, running my fingers along the delicate line and arch of her collarbones, then recessed my mouth to hers, stroking her with my tongue before gently pushing the muscle inside.

  While still kissing her, I reached between our bodies and placed the thick tip of my shaft at her entrance. I pulled back and we stared at each other for several long seconds.

  I had my hands everywhere, stroking her breasts, caress
ing any inch of skin I could reach. I couldn’t get enough. And all I kept thinking about was she was mine.

  My cock head was nestled against her core, and although I hadn’t penetrated her yet, I could feel how tight she was. Wellsie was hot and silky, slick and so saturated that I knew once I was inside her I would have no resistance.

  I went back to kissing her, giving her a little distraction from what would no doubt be discomfort as I started to push into her. The wide head of my cock stretched the opening of her virgin pussy, and because I couldn't help myself, I leaned back because I had to watch this.

  God. Help me.

  I was transfixed, watching myself push into her snug opening. I tried to be gentle, mindful that this was her first time, but fuck it was hard. All I wanted to do was plow into her and ease the ache in my cock and balls.

  I felt her grip my narrow waist, holding on, digging her nails into me. I snapped my focus to her face, making sure she was okay. “You still with me, baby? You doing okay?”

  She nodded and whispered, “Yes, don’t stop.” She sounded out of breath, and I could see the discomfort written across her face, so I forced myself to continue to go slow and easy.

  Nice and easy…

  I slid in another inch and a harsh groan ripped from me. “Wellsie. You’re so tight, so hot and wet.”

  She moaned in response.

  Once I was buried balls deep in her, I stilled, waiting, giving her a moment to adjust to my size. We were both breathing hard, sweat coating our bodies.

  “I need you to move or I’m going to die,” she murmured, her desire still right there at the surface.

  Go slow, asshole. Be easy with her.

  I pulled out nice and easy, then pushed back in just as slowly. I did this over and over again, back and forth, curling my hips forward and retreating. But with each passing second, my speed and the thrusting became more frantic.

  “Beau,” she cried out when I thrust into her deeply. Her eyes closed, her head tipped back, and her back arched. The tips of her breasts tightened further, blood rushing below the surface as a flush covered her creamy skin.