The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 51: Untouched

​Aurora’s POV

​Without my sight, the sensation was overwhelming. I could feel the slight rasp of his tongue, the pull of his lips, and the hot dampness he left behind. His hand, still pinning my wrists above my head, tightened just a little.

​He moved to the other side, giving it the same torturous attention until I was squirming beneath him, my legs tangling with his denim-clad ones. He let go of my wrists, but I didn’t move them; I was frozen in pleasure. I felt his hand slide down my stomach, his palm flat and heavy, spreading heat deep into my core.

​I thought for sure he was going to slide a finger inside me, to finally drown the wet, throbbing ache between my legs, but instead, the air hissed.

​SMACK.

​A sharp, stinging spank landed dead-center on my inner thigh. I gasped, my body jerking against the mattress as the fire of the strike blossomed across my skin. It was a shocking, electric sting that cut right through the haze of pleasure. Before I could even suck in a breath to protest, he struck the other side.

​SMACK.

​"Ah!" I cried out, my voice breaking into a high, needy moan. The sting was exquisite, grounding me and making my blood roar. I was raw, exposed, and completely blind to his next move.

​I expected another strike, but he shifted instantly. His large, calloused hands moved upward, and before I could even register the movement, he caught both of my aching nipples between his fingers and twisted.

​"Fuck!" I arched my back, my toes curling so hard they cramped. The combination of the sharp sting on my thighs and the blunt, grounding pressure on my chest sent a jolt of pure lightning straight to my core. My pussy was drenched now, the slick heat of my arousal coating my thighs, pulsing with a rhythm that was becoming unbearable.

​He leaned down, his heavy weight crushing me into the bed, his mouth hovering just over mine. I could feel the heat of his breath, the scent of him filling my lungs.

​"You’re soaking for me, Aurora," he growled, his voice a low, predatory vibration that made my bones rattle. "Even while you’re trembling from the sting, your body is begging for more. You weren’t made for a gentle life. You were made for this. You were made for me."

​He let go of my nipples and replaced his fingers with his mouth, biting down on the sensitive flesh just hard enough to leave a mark. I thrashed beneath him, my hands finally breaking free to claw at his bare, muscular back. I needed more. I needed something down there.

​"Raymond, please," I sobbed, my voice raw and wrecked. "I can’t... please... give me."

​"Give you what?" he rasped, his hand sliding back down, hovering just over the drenched curls between my legs, teasing the edges but refusing to go inside. "Tell me exactly what you want. You have to say it, Aurora."

​"Touch me," I whispered, the words coming out as a broken, shameful plea. "Please, Raymond... touch me down there."

​He scoffed, a dark, triumphant sound vibrating through the air between us. "As my princess wishes," he murmured, his breath hot against my lips.

​I felt his hand descend, and when his fingers finally made contact with my slick, swollen folds, I let out a sharp gasp. The contact was electric. He didn’t rush; he simply rested his palm there for a moment, letting me feel the weight and heat of his hand against my most sensitive skin. Then, with a slow, agonizingly deliberate motion, he sank a single finger deep inside me.

​The sensation was so full, so stretching, that I gasped and dug my nails into his bare shoulders, my hips instinctively jerking upward.

​He stiffened instantly. I could feel every muscle in his large frame turn to stone as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His finger remained still inside me, as if he were paralyzed by the realization of how tight I was.

​"Aurora," he growled, his voice thick and strained with a sudden, overwhelming tension. "Are you... are you a virgin?"

​The air in the room seemed to vanish. I bit my lower lip so hard, the blindfold over my eyes making the silence feel suffocating. I couldn’t hide from the question. Slowly, I nodded, my face flushing a deep, hot red.

​He swore under his breath—a string of dark, heavy words I didn’t recognize. He pulled his finger out of me with a sharp, sudden movement that made me whimper in protest, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he gripped my hips with bruising force, pulling me flush against the hard denim of his thighs.

​"Why didn’t you tell me?" he rasped, his forehead dropping against mine. The passionate feeling I’d felt in him earlier was gone, replaced by something much more intense: a possessive, protective hunger that seemed to vibrate through his skin.

​He trailed his hand up to my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. "You should have told me. Do you have any idea what that means? What it does to a man like me?"

​He leaned down, his lips ghosting over the blindfold. "You really are mine now, Aurora. I was going to let you walk away after tonight if you refused me, but not now. Never now."

​He didn’t wait for my response. Instead, he captured my lips in a kiss so deep and agonizingly tender that it made my heart ache. It wasn’t the hard, demanding kiss from before; it was slow, heavy with a new kind of gravity, as if he were marking my very soul. His tongue swept over mine with a possessiveness that felt like a vow.

​While our mouths were still fused, his fingers moved to the knot of the scarf at the back of my head. Slowly, he unraveled the blindfold.

​As the fabric fell away, I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim, amber glow of the bedside lamp. I was panting, my chest heaving, my skin flushed and sensitive from his touch. I looked up at him, my vision slightly blurred by tears, expecting to see him move to finish what we started.

​"This is all for tonight, Aurora," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

​I felt a sudden, sharp pang of disappointment—a hollow ache deep in my belly. I wanted him to fill the void he had created.

​"But—" I started, my voice small and trembling.

​"No," he interrupted, his green eyes burning with a fierce, protective light behind that leather mask. "I’m losing control, Aurora... please, let’s stop here."

​I swallowed hard, nodded, and stared at his body to realize he had worn his shirt back, indicating nothing was surely going to happen.

​He saw the dejection in my eyes and softened, reaching out to brush a stray hair from my forehead. "I told you, I’m not going anywhere. You are safe."

​He shifted, lying back against the pillows and pulling me firmly into the cocoon of his arms. He draped the heavy blanket over both of us, tucking it around my shoulders until I was pinned against his side, my head resting right over his thundering heart.

​"Go to sleep, Aurora," he murmured, his hand resuming that slow, hypnotic stroking of my hair. "Close your eyes. I’ll be here when the sun comes up."

​I breathed in his scent, drawing it deep into my lungs. Despite the monster he could be, despite the secrets between us sharp as shattered glass, my body betrayed me. My eyelids grew heavy, my muscles loosening against him. And for the first time in six long years, I surrendered to the safest, most peaceful sleep I had ever known.