Making Memories
OPAL
The stranger's tongue swirls around in my mouth tantalizingly slowly, eliciting a moan from me, one he swallows greedily. Expertly.
My hand moves to his chest—so broad and hard that it almost feels like I'm making out with a slab of stone. I've never been kissed before. I've only ever imagined it. I always had this fear that I wouldn't know what to do or that my teeth would get in the way—all the little mistakes I heard women talk about during gatherings or special events. Even at school. While girls were moving from boy to boy, I was the one who wanted true love to find me. My friends would laugh at me for this, friends who are all happily married now. I see them from time to time.
Everyone envied me for being the daughter of an Alpha, but what they didn't know was that I wouldn't have any control of my destiny. I would do as he said, like everyone else in our pack.
Until yesterday, I didn't know how bad things would get, either.
But here I am, in the arms of a man who's kissing me passionately, and you know what? It feels real. I don't know what love is and it's highly unlikely that I'll ever experience it since I'll be tethered to a vicious man, but this is a perfect imitation of it.
At least, the version of it that I had in my head.
With one sharp tug, he pulls me onto his lap, our lips still locked. My desire is a living, thrashing thing inside of me. I forget everything; hold onto nothing. My focus is solely on this moment. His hand moves to the small of my back, venturing under my dress. The feel of his hand against my bare skin sends shivers of pleasure all through me. He settles his other hand on my ass, and the way he grips the flesh sends a rush of warmth to my core.
Even the lightest pressure against my clit sends me spiraling. I'm overwhelmed by how good this feels. It's so much more than I thought it would be. After breaking the kiss, his warm, moist lips pepper kisses all along the curve of my neck while his hands explore.
"I need this off," he mumbles against my skin, meaning my dress.
It's a little tight but I manage to ease the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but underwear on his lap. The way his pupils dilate at the sight of me boosts my confidence. I've never had a man gaze upon me like this.
I've never felt this beautiful. This seen.
Without another word, he reaches behind me and unclasps my bra before discarding it near the dress. Then, he takes each breast in his warm hands, his thumbs gliding over the pebbled peaks. Small pants leave my lips and I grow wetter between the legs, wanting the same attention in my clit. When he sucks a taut nipple into his mouth, I screw my eyes shut and moan.
It feels so, so good.
His hands settle on my waist as he feasts on me, the act sending warmth trickling down my spine. I move against him, needing friction, needing release. Anything. Sensing my despair, he flips me over so I'm lying flat on the bed, and hovers over me.
His eyes are dark pools of desire. His lips find mine once more and this time, his touch is more frantic, like he's trying to feel as much of me as he can. With our lips still locked in a kiss, it suddenly occurs to me that this is the last time I'll ever be with him. I might never see him again after this.
The thought is strong enough to make me pull away, and his eyes dim with concern. "What's wrong?"
"I don't even know your name," I blurt out. "This...it feels real to me but it's probably only a night's work for you. I know what I've gotten myself into, but..."
I can't even finish my sentence. My eyes are downcast but he uses his fingers to grab my chin and look up at him. I expect him to say something—anything that could offer me some comfort—but he kisses me instead. Tenderly. Ardently. His hand moves to pull my lace panties down my legs, leaving me bare. I thought I'd make a bigger deal about this, but I don't. Worrying about my body and how it looks becomes inconsequential in the face of so much longing. And heat.
We work on taking his clothes off together. The feel of his bare skin against mine is heavenly. My fingers curl in his hair, deepening our kiss. His hand moves to the apex of my thighs, his fingers working on parting the flesh, testing how wet I am. When he presses the heel of his hand against my clit, a pained sound escapes me. I raise my hips, intensifying the friction. I see fucking stars. Slowly, he eases a finger inside of me, the feeling foreign and electrifying.
I've never fingered myself. I'd play around with my clit, but was always too scared to take it a step further. He gently pushes his finger all the way in, causing to give me the time to adjust, then he moves in and out, in and out, his hand still crushing my clit.
I come hard. Unapologetically. Crying out. He keeps going at a slow pace, pausing briefly to allow for the sensitivity to subside before he continues. My second orgasm is shorter but more intense. Already my body feels spent. Like I can't take it anymore.
He sits up, pulls me to him with my back still flat on the bed, my legs on either side of him. I stare at his cock, mesmerized by the look of it. I reach out, closing my hand around it. He guides it, showing me how to stroke him. I give him a light squeeze and he makes a sound at the back of his throat that settles between my legs.
Then, he settles himself above me. I settle my hands on his hips as he pushes his tip against my entrance. I close my eyes as he forces his way in, the sharp sting almost too unbearable. Slowly, he eases into me. My eyes fill with tears. His face inches closer to mine and he darts his tongue out to lick them, catching each one of them.
We move together in perfect sync, eyes locked. He touches and kisses me while moving inside me, and I have to admit that this is exactly how I envisioned it. This is it. This is the experience I wanted. Tonight is a night I'll never forget. When it gets tough—when it feels like I can't go on—this is the memory I'll recall.
And his will be the face I'll see.