Free The Alpha Won't Be Denied by Georgette St. Clair Page A

frantic rise and fall of his chest as he struggled for breath, for control. His cock was still as hard as iron, throbbing with his need for release.
    When she could speak again she looked up at him, blinking beads of water out of her eyes. His pupils were dilated with lust and there was a flush of color on his high cheekbones.
    “You didn’t come,” she murmured, feeling suddenly shy after such a wanton release of her inhibitions. “How are you going to get this – us – out of your system if you don’t—”
    He gave her a lingering kiss that cut off her words, then looked down at her, his eyes steady and serious. “I don’t want to get you out of my system,” he said. “I want to get into your system.” He kissed her again. “I want to get under your skin.”
    He swept her up into his arms, holding her against his chest, and carried her through into the bedroom with long, purposeful strides.
    He laid her gently on the bed and looked at her for a long time as she lay naked and exposed on the coverlet.
    She shivered, partly because of the drops of water cooling on her skin but mostly because of the frank appraisal in those jewel-like eyes. A tingling between her thighs and a sort of restless desire had her shifting on the bed, then she sat up, puzzled, as Carver strode over to her suitcase and started rummaging among the spare clothes and the outrageous lingerie her cousin had talked her into packing. Light dawned when he emerged with the pink fluffy handcuffs and a bottle of flavored body oil.
    “A little bird told me—” he began.
    “Katrina,” Virginia said, then let out a stream of exceptionally unladylike curse words. “It’s a conspiracy.”
    He smiled smugly and stalked towards her, cuffs in one hand and body oil in the other.
    “I don’t think…” Virginia stammered.
    He settled between her thighs and silenced her with a brief kiss. “I don’t want you to think,” he insisted. “I just want you to feel.”
    He ran his fingers up the sensitive inside of her arm, raising it gently over her head, and fastened one of the soft fur-covered cuffs around her wrist before looping the chain around a slat in the headboard and securing the other. It left her breasts upthrust towards him, her nipples peaked, and he took one rose-colored tip between his teeth and gave it a playful nip before drawing back to look at her again. She squirmed.
    Carver grinned at her, then squeezed a generous pool of oil into his cupped palm before rubbing his hands briskly together, generating friction. When he placed his palms on her breasts, she gasped at the slick heat, and he ran his hands down her ribcage, spreading the scented oil over her skin and leaving a trail of burning sensation with his fingers. He spread the oil over her belly, allowing a few drops to puddle in her navel, then coating her bare pussy lips with the warm liquid, gently tickling her clit and gathering some of her intimate moisture before pulling his hand away and sucking on his fingers.
    “Delicious,” he murmured, and she knew he wasn’t talking about the oil.
    Then he bent his head to lick and suckle her breasts, holding himself above her on strong, muscled arms. His mouth was hot, his tongue clever, and she moaned and arched her back, pressing closer. She ached to run her fingers into his hair, but she was pulled up short by the chain of the handcuffs. Although she squirmed, she was trapped, helpless to fight the wicked pleasure of his tongue and teeth on her sensitive flesh.
    He worked his way down her body, trailing tender kisses over her stomach and making the muscles twitch as she giggled and writhed against him, then dipping his tongue briefly into her navel and licking the flavored oil from his lips. He parted the lips of her pussy, separating the damp petals with deft fingertips before lapping at her slit, then circling the tip of his tongue around her clit. She gasped as sensation shot straight to her core, her nerve-endings still