Chapter 19 Chapter 19

Chapter 19 Chapter 19
Ashley

His fingers stayed inside me, a possessive anchor as my body trembled from the aftershocks. The knock on the door was still persistent, but we ignored it completely. His dark eyes held mine, a wicked smile made it to his face.
“You asked for this.” He said. “I am going to fuck you that you won’t be able to walk for days.” He smirked wickedly.

“Exactly what I want.” I retorted.
His curled fingers pressed again, a deliberate, internal caress that sent a fresh ripple of pleasure through my core. I gasped, my hips rocking involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of that delicious pressure. “You are still so tight,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp against my ear. “Still so hungry for me.”
He withdrew his fingers slowly, the drag against my sensitized walls a torturous delight. I watched him lift his hand, saw my own slick glistening on his skin. He brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue swiping over them in a slow, deliberate taste. The raw, primal claim of that act sent a new wave of heat straight to my already throbbing center. “All mine,” he growled.
Then his hands were on my hips, gripping me, turning me. He flipped me onto my stomach on the lush bed with a single, powerful motion. The blankets were soft, but his dominance was absolute. A large, warm hand smoothed over my spine, then pressed between my shoulder blades, holding me down. Not harshly, but with an authority that made my pulse race.
“Stay,” he commanded.
I obeyed, arching my back, presenting myself. The air cooled on my exposed skin, but then the heat of his body covered me. He knelt behind me, his weight settling over my thighs. I felt the hard ridge of his erection press against the cleft of my ass, still clothed in his trousers.
His hands ran down my sides, then gripped my hips again. He leaned forward, his chest against my back, his lips at my ear. “I want to hear you,” he whispered. “Your screams, moans and all as I fuck you.”
One hand left my hip. I heard the rustle of clothing, the slide of a zipper. Then the cool air touched my skin again, followed immediately by the hot, heavy presence of him uncovered, untamed. He pressed the thick, blunt head of his cock against my entrance, which was still wet and open from his fingers. He didn’t push in. He just rubbed himself there, sliding through my slickness, painting himself with me.
The sensation was maddening, I whimpered, pushing my hips back against him, a silent plea. He chuckled, a dark, gratified sound. “So impatient.”
His hands tightened on my hips, holding me still, then he pushed. It wasn’t a slow entry. It was a single, devastating thrust that filled me in one deep, conquering stroke. My body stretched, accommodated, then singed with the sheer fullness. I cried out, a sharp, ragged sound that was swallowed by the pillow.
He smacked my ass hard and I whimpered. “Told you not to deprive me of your sound.” He said.
He buried his cock completely inside me and held himself there, deep, letting me feel every inch of his possession. My inner muscles clenched around him instinctively, and he groaned, the vibration traveling through his chest into my back.
“Perfect,” he rasped.
Then he began to move, he pulled back almost entirely, then drove forward again with the same deliberate, powerful force. Each thrust was a punctuated claim, the rhythm was relentless, punishing in its perfection. The slap of his body against mine, the wet, rhythmic sound of our joining, it was a raw, carnal harmony.
His hands moved from my hips to my shoulders, gripping me, pulling me back onto him with every plunge. The angle changed, and the head of his cock dragged against a spot inside me that sparked white-hot pleasure. I gasped, my fingers clawing at the sheets.
“There?” he asked, his voice thick with exertion.
He adjusted his angle, aiming for that spot with every subsequent thrust. It was no longer just penetration; it was a targeted assault on my pleasure centers. The coil that had just unwound began to wind again, tighter, faster, fueled by the deep, rhythmic pounding.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” I screamed wildly, I could barely recognize my voice.
One of his hands slid down my spine, over my ass, and between my legs. His thumb found my clit again, already swollen and hypersensitive. He pressed it, circling in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation, the deep, internal pounding and the external, precise pressure was overwhelming. My thoughts dissolved, I was just a body, a vessel for this exquisite, brutal pleasure.
“I can feel you getting tighter,” he grunted, his thrusts gaining speed, losing some of their deliberate control as his own need climbed. “You are going to come for me again. Harder.”
I couldn’t speak, my answers were moans, each one louder, more desperate than the last. The world narrowed to the bed, to his body covering mine, to the exquisite friction building beyond bearing.
His thumb pressed harder on my clit. His thrusts became shorter, faster, a frantic, driving rhythm. He was chasing his own peak now, his breaths coming in harsh grunts against my ear.
“Now,” he commanded, his voice cracking. “Come with me.”
The command was the trigger. The coil snapped, and the orgasm rippled through me in waves. A shockwave of pure, convulsing pleasure tore through me. I screamed, my body locking, then shuddering violently under him. My internal muscles clamped around his cock in rapid, pulsating waves, milking him.
The sensation pulled his own release over the edge. With a final, deep roar, he drove into me one last time, burying himself to the root, and held. I felt the hot, sudden flood of him inside me, his own climax joining the chaotic pleasure of mine. He collapsed forward, his weight pressing me into the bed, his body shuddering against my back as we both rode the crashing wave.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sound in the room was our uneven breathing, the heat between us thick and impossible to ignore.
Then came another knock on the door—louder this time, more urgent. “Alpha! We are getting late. We have to go!”
He shifted slightly above me, his breath still warm against my neck, but he made no move to pull away. Instead, he lowered his head and sank his teeth gently into the side of my neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a clear, possessive mark. A soft gasp escaped me.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled back slightly. “We will continue this when I return.” Reluctantly, he straightened up, fixing his clothes as if nothing had just happened.
I slowly pushed myself up, still trying to process everything, my heart racing, I nodded without trusting my voice.
As the reality finally settled in, a mix of emotions washed over me, confusion, shock and shame.
Shame was finally back after being gone for so long, I just hoped when he returned again, he wouldn’t remember any of this.