Free Forgotten Alpha by Joanna Wilson

 
    Forgotten Alpha
     
    I didn't know I'd ever be here. I didn't bring men home and I definitely didn't get drunk. That's not to say that girls who do it are bad or wrong, it’s just not me. I'm Iris Carlton. I’m usually intelligent, dutiful, and boring; but, I wasn’t tonight.
     
    You see, about two months ago, I woke up in a hospital as a Jane Doe and I had no clue how I'd gotten there. This man, whose fingers trailed my body and left in its wake a burning desire for more, he was the key to what happened. I met him in a bar, drunk and frustrated. His kisses made me wet.
     
    I pulled him into my bedroom and he followed, willingly and just as hungry as I. His green eyes practically glowed with lust. Here was a tall drink of water with mussed, deep brown hair and pale skin; too pale to have grown up here in the south. He pulled me into him, burying his hands in my mass of curly hair and nipping at my neck. I melted. He pulled frantically at my clothes and I at his. I dragged his leather jacket off of his shoulders and pulled at his t-shirt, pausing only to let him pull off mine.
     
    His hands found my breasts, as I fumbled with his belt. He grabbed my hands and pinned then behind me, as his lips latched onto my nipple. I rarely wore bras, my breast being barely a hand full. I moaned when his wet mouth covered my puckered nipple.
     
    He continued to lap at my breast, as he pulled my jeans and panties past my hips. I fell onto the bed behind me and watched him remove his jeans. His body was long and sinewy with broad shoulders and muscular legs. When his pants came off my mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock. It was surprisingly thick; I licked my lips in excitement.
     
    "You ready, baby?" he asked in a deep, raspy voice that made my knees weak.
     
    "Yes, please, I want you inside of me," I moaned.
     
    Who was this girl? How was he able to turn me into this, a sexual vixen?  I reckon the liquor had a lot to do with it. He climbed on the bed on top me, growling into the kisses that he pressed to my lips. I drank him in as I felt the swollen head of his cock at my entrance. My heart raced as I anticipated his hard cock penetrating me.
     
    With one long measured stroke, he pushed inside me. His thick cock filled me. I whimpered as he pushed in to the hilt. My eyes never wavered from his.
     
    "Goddamn," he grunted, "you’re so hot and wet."
     
    "For you, baby," I moaned, before pulling his face down into a kiss. With that, he pulled out and then pushed back into me, quickening his pace. I gripped his back as he pummeled into me. With every stroke he pushed me closer to ecstasy. My legs began to quiver as he picked up speed. My eyes rolled as I felt myself come closer to the edge.
     
    "Oh shit, I'm going to cum," I wailed loudly as my fingers dug into his back. I felt myself stiffen just before an orgasm crashed into me. It ripped through me with a strong vengeance. It shook my body as I clung to him. His pace became frenzied as he buried his face in my neck, his teeth sinking into my skin. He came with a great thrust, filling me with his hot seed.
     
    With the haze of intoxication, the exertion of sex, and the glow of orgasm, I slipped into a deep sleep.
     
    Some people say that when they're drunk they don't dream, I was quite the opposite. I dreamt of what I remember of that night. Like flashes, they came to me. I dreamt of going out to the bar with the men I worked with. I managed my father's landscaping service and we had just finished the garden for the new City Hall building. It looked amazing. I took the boys out for celebratory beers.
     
    Things got crazy and I got wasted, which isn't an easy task. I was a werewolf. The only daughter of Wes Carlton, alpha of one of the oldest packs in the South. Being a werewolf not only meant heightened senses, but also a higher alcohol tolerance.
     
    I remember refusing offers for a ride home. My apartment was a block away and I decided a little fresh air would