Free Alphas of Red Moon Ranch Complete Series by Morgan Rae Page A

was probably half-tempted to rip her head from her neck with one swipe of its paw—but she drew her nails over his scalp, trying to sooth him. “It’s just…I kind of wanted tonight to be…our wedding night. Just us. Not the Beast.”
    As though the animal were some third party, some yappy dog they could kick out of the room and close the door on. If Jacob was frustrated, however, he didn’t show it (bless him). Instead, his expression softened and he cupped the side of her face in his palm and ran his thumb lovingly over her bottom lip. “Of course,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice almost made her throat tighten with emotion. “Tonight is about you.”
    “Us,” she corrected. “Just us. No Beast.”
    His eyebrows knitted, as though that was a distinction he’d never even thought to make, but even if he didn’t understand, he nodded once and kissed her mouth softly. Her fingers gripped his hair tighter and she deepened the kiss, drawing a new growl from him as his hips jutted against hers. She could feel it—now that his fangs were tucked away there was a much more immediate need pressing hard against her thigh. A whimper escaped Holly’s mouth as her legs wrapped around his hips and her feet crossed behind him, trapping him in against her. She needed him, now more than ever.
    Jacob, too, was done with the foreplay. She could hear it in the speed with which his belt clicked and hissed as he ripped it out of his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them over his hips. She felt his hand reach down, felt him peel her panties off, and then— oh God —felt him rub the head of his cock between the petals of her sex.
    She was wet—so wet—and he slipped against her easily as he rubbed it up and down. She burned for him, wanted him inside of her so badly, but he teased her a moment longer. His cock head bumped into her clit and she whimpered, rocking her hips against it for friction.
    “Ask for it,” he demanded, right when she felt she absolutely couldn’t take a second more of the deliciously agonizing torture.
    “Please,” she begged, surprised by the thick lust in her voice. “Please, I need you inside of me.”
    His eyes flashed ( good girl ) and he pushed inside of her. She gasped at the intrusion and felt him fill her. There was no pain this time; even as thick as he was, she was dripping wet and he slid inside easily.
    He grunted—a dark, delicious noise from deep in his throat—and his hands clasped over her hips, holding her in place. He hung over her as he thrust inside of her, each motion a slow, mountainous build. Holly surprised herself with her willingness to let him take the reins.
    “You’re my princess,” he said and she felt it, felt like royalty lying back on his plush bed while he gyrated his hips in ways that made her toes tingle. Holly wrapped her arms around him and reveled in the warmth of him, his wiry chest hair tickling her breasts and her pebbled nipples, which had fallen out of her dress. As his eyes locked on hers, she felt his hand leave her hip and slide down between their bodies, underneath the bunched up fabric of her dress, and found their way between her legs. He found her clit quickly and she felt his thumb bump against the protruding nub. Her breath caught in her throat and, within seconds, she was writhing underneath him. He rubbed slick circles around her most sensitive spot again and again.
    “Oh God,” she whispered, “oh God, oh God, oh God—”
    She was white-knuckling on the edge when his thumb pulled back. No! Her eyes flashed open and she looked at him, confused, and gasped. He wore that cocky smirk and just said, “Not yet, princess.”
    How did he know—? Before she could ask, he crushed her mouth with his. She shoved her tongue past his lips, desperately licking every inch of his mouth as her hips rocked pleadingly against his. He worked her up like this three more times—or four, or five, or a hundred, she lost count—rolling his thumb