he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2: Desire Games (6 page)

The others were buried deep into
her pussy, and he applied suction pressure to funnel them out. The tendrils of need
continued to ebb deep within her. He poked his finger into the deepest recesses
of her pussy to inch the final sliver out.

When Carlo finally came back, her
vaginal canal was empty but still throbbing with the unparalleled sensations.

“I’ve brought you more sashimi,
sir,” Carlo said.

His eyes were on her and his
erection had abated some from his sojourn into the kitchen. Kate wondered if
some sous chef in there had eased his load a bit.

“Thank you, waiter,” Rust said,
straightening himself. “It’s now the lady’s turn to feed. Are you hungry, my
darling?”

The endearment warmed Kate’s ears
and heart. Rust helped her sit up. Her whole body was still aching from the
orgasm she just had.

Rust stroked his cock.

“This needs relief,” he said,
“though not in the way you’d think.”

He sat down and held out a hand
to Kate.

“Come sit on my lap,” he said.

She knew what he wanted and went
to him gladly. She was no longer perturbed by Carlo’s watchful gaze. Rust
turned her body around so that her back was facing him.

But which hole did he prefer?

He grabbed her hips.

“Slide me in,” he said in a husky
voice.

He was asking her to make a
choice. She let the head of his cock nestle against her pussy opening. She
paused for Rust’s acknowledgement and blessing. He did not twitch, and so she
assumed he approved.

Carlo was watching her every move
with wariness. There was judgment in his eyes.

You are his slut. You let him
be his slut. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?

And yet, she could read the
obvious desire on his face.

I want you.

Simultaneous judgment and desire.

Oh, what a tangled web we
weave.

She bore her body down onto
Rust’s dick while locking eyes with Carlo. It was psychologically sick, sick,
sick – what Rust and she were doing to Carlo. But some part of her
reveled in what they were doing. Some part of her expanded with the largesse of
being desired – she who had so seldom been desired. Her mind rang with
elation.

You want me but you can’t have
me,
she mentally said in triumph to Carlo.

She was so very wet that Rust
slid in with ease.

“Don’t move,” he instructed her. Then
to Carlo: “Bring the tray here.”

She sat there on Rust’s splayed
thighs, joined to him in the way a woman can be joined to a man as Carlo
brought the tray of fresh sashimi to Rust. Carlo was so close that his thigh
could almost brush hers. He was certainly close enough to glimpse her pussy
with Rust’s cock buried deep inside – so deep that she could feel his tip
nestling against the mouth of her cervix. Close enough to see her juices
trickle onto Rust’s balls.

Close enough for it to sting.

Rust took the pair of chopsticks
beside the food on the tray, and scissored an orange slice of white-veined
salmon belly with it. He was just as adept as Carlo with chopsticks. She turned
her head halfway, her long hair brushing against his clavicles. He carefully
brought it to her lips and she ate it, tasting the cool, smooth textured silkiness
of it on her tongue.

“Do you like it?” Rust murmured.

“Yes.”

He fed her some more. And more
and more and more. She wriggled on his cock as she ate, aware that Carlo was
watching Rust steady her by groping her left breast.

She was amazingly hungry, and so
she finished the whole tray this way, with Rust feeding her and Carlo being a
human mannequin.

At the end of it, Carlo’s cock
was a flagpole once again.

“Fuck me,” Rust said.

To Carlo: “Bring us some
sake
,
will you, waiter? I ordered it ages ago.”

She began to move up and down
against Rust, her buttocks squishing the lower part of his planed abdomen. It
was difficult because she did not have the leverage, but he gripped her belly
and hips and guided her all the way.

Carlo turned a red, angry face
away and exited through the curtains as she humped Rust’s cock in an
increasingly frenetic hunger – a different sort of hunger from when she
first ate the sashimi.

It was not just a physical hunger
to climax for the umpteenth time that night. Hadn’t he fucked her three times
tonight already? No. It was a hunger to be craved, a hunger to be cruel to
someone who desired her and could not have her. A hunger to throw back at all
the boys who had laughed at her size and timidity for all these years.

See? Men want me? I’m
beautiful! They want to fuck me!

“Faster,” Rust instructed her. His
breathing escalated.

She complied, thrusting her hips
up and down at an accelerated pace.

“Rust,” she moaned. It was always
his name on her lips.

Always Rust.

“Wait.” His voice was harsh.

He suddenly stopped her and
lifted her bodily up with his large hands. She was surprised at how strong he
was, but then, maybe she should not be surprised. His hard cock slipped out of
her pussy, and before she knew what was happening, he had carried her to the
table and bent her over the edge so that her breasts were pressed onto the
surface and her buttocks were in the air.

Then his cock rammed into her
pussy again.

“Ohhhh!” she cried out.

Her sodden, wet pussy, dripping
with her own juices mixed with his pre-cum. He plunged back and forth into her
with a force that left her breathless. His ardor was so urgent and his need so
great that it was all she could do but be battered against the table, which was
thankfully heavy and strong enough not to be pushed by the brunt of his raw,
fucking power.

He stroked into her and pummeled
into her. There was nothing gentle about his fucking this time. It was all raw
heat and unbridled power. It was the fuck of a century. The fuck of flesh
slapping against flesh and liquid, lubricating juices staining balls and inner
thighs. The fuck of a rod-hard cock slamming against the mouth of her cervix,
rubbing and chafing against her G-spot until she was delirious and screaming
out in pleasure and pain and everything in between.

Her orgasm was even more violent
than the previous one. That one had been the interplay of sensuality and
differing textures. This one was borne of raw lust – lust like nothing
she had ever encountered. God, to think that a man could want her so much! The
euphoria this brought spiraled her soul into the starlight outside – to
the reaches of the universe.

Rust! Rust! Rust!

He came just as the curtain
opened again.

His sperm jetted into her over-stimulated
vaginal tunnel. She could feel the tide of it, flowing in a hot deluge into her
womb. And higher – crawling into the deepest spaces of her where her
womanly parts lay waiting. The joy flowered in her heart and sent spears of
ecstasy into her mind. Her satisfaction was immense.

Carlo stood at the doorway,
carrying a tray with decanter of clear fluid and two glasses.

Rust did not pull out. He was
panting.

“Your
sake
, sir,” Carlo
said between his teeth.

Rust waved him in as he pulled
his dripping penis out of Kate’s swollen pussy.

“Thank you, waiter.”

Kate was too winded to move. She
lay draped over the table like a ragdoll. She could only watch Carlo come in
once again and set the tray down on the table beside her. He expertly poured
the Japanese wine into the two shot glasses.

Rust took one glass up. He
stroked her damp hair off her forehead.

“You thirsty, beloved?”

She was aware of the
undercurrents in the tiny room. How much was Rust playing to their audience of one?
Beloved. Darling.
The endearments kept tripping off his honeyed tongue
like nectar.

“Yes,” she whispered.

All the talk had been fucked out
of her.

He helped her up to the chair
where she sat down, exhausted. Her pussy was sore like it had never been sore
before. He put the glass to her lips and said, “Drink”. He watched her gulp at
the
sake
thirstily and her throat move as she swallowed it.

He stroked her hair again.

“Satisfied?” he said.

“Yes.”

Carlo’s eyes glittered, and that
was when she knew they had made a mistake.

10

Later that night, Rust tucked her
into bed beside him. They were both naked on the big bed in his bedroom.

“I don’t think I can fuck anymore
tonight,” he groaned.

She had to laugh. “Me neither.
I’m glad to know you’re human.”

“Not quite.” He turned to her in
the darkness. They had showered again and his hair smelled of clean shampoo. “This
is nice.”

The tone in his voice was
pensive.

She sucked in her breath.

Then she said, “Yes, it is.”

Silence. She could see the
silhouette of his Adam’s apple moving.

He said in a casual air, “You
ever thought of moving out of that college dorm of yours?”

The air froze around them. Did
she just hear what she thought she heard?

She licked her lips. “Moving
out?”

“Yes.”

Did she dare say it? Or was she
setting herself up for disappointment again?
Here comes the put down. So
what’s new, Kate Penney?

But she was a masochist. A
literal one.

And so she said, “Where would I
move to?”

She could hear the thudding of
her heart in her ears.
Fool, fool, fool,
she scolded herself.
Why do
you do these things?
It was just like those diamond earrings. Carlo was
right. She was a train wreck waiting to happen. A doormat waiting for Rust
O’Brien to stomp all over and wipe his feet clean on.

After a long silence in the
darkness, he said, “I was just thinking . . . that it would be nice . . . if
you stayed here once in a while.”

There was a buzzing in her head
which had nothing to do with her ears.

“A while?” she said.

“Yeah. You know . . .  a while.”

He clammed up after that, and she
waited for him to speak again. But he didn’t. After a beat, she heard his
gentle snoring. He rarely snored. He must have been tired out by tonight’s
antics.

Oh, but how would she be able to
go to sleep now?

Come on, Kate, he’s not asking
you to move in. You are not even in that part of your relationship. He just
mentioned it would be nice if you stayed over once in a while. You know, like a
sleepover
.

But he had been on the verge of
asking her to move in. She knew it in her subconscious!

She gazed at his form in the
darkness. The windows were framed with blackout curtains. Rust O’Brien
preferred to sleep in absolute darkness.

“I love you,” she whispered to
his sleeping body.

And she did. She really did.

With her body, heart and soul.

Train wreck
.

11

Rust O’Brien woke up suddenly in
the darkness.

He was thirsty. Phenomenally so.
And hungry.

He was aware of the sleeping girl
beside him. His loins twitched.
Not again
., he inwardly groaned. He had
made such a fool of himself in recent days.

And it was all because of the
girl.

He swung his legs noiselessly out
of bed. The hormones coursed throughout his body like molten lava. Swiftly, he
shifted into his tiger form and padded out of the bedroom. He was seemingly
more at ease with his tiger form these days, and he had been having more and
more urges to shift.

Not an urge.

A
compulsion
.

He walked into his bedroom
lounge, which was connected to his study. He should know about compulsions
well. He gazed out into the cityscape from the glass window there – at
the spread of buildings and houses under the blanket of the night sky.

What was happening to him?

He was obsessed with the girl.
Kate Penney. He who had never been obsessed with anyone in his life.

But she was everything he told
her she was. Pliant, submissive, beautiful and sweet. He had never been with
anyone like her. His last lover, the wildly feral Shamilar, was a panther, and
she liked to scratch him in bed with her sharp nails as he fucked her. Truth be
told, he was getting tired of women like those. Bold women who were as dominant
as their shifter alter-egos. Women who hunted. Women who were predators
themselves.

That was why when Kate Penney
trailed him that first night, he let her.

He knew that she was following
him out of morbid curiosity and her schoolgirl crush. And he was flattered. Of
course, he knew that half the students and the teacher faculty desired him, but
Kate was like an innocent lamb, so different from the predatory women that he
knew and was used to. He knew that she was out of her league – that it
wasn’t in her genetic and psychological makeup to do the things she did that
night.

And yet, there she was. Breaching
her own comfort zone to follow him and, subsequently, to be with him.

More overwhelming yet was his own
reaction to her later. The sex. The incredible sex. The feeling of power he had
over her to make her physically and emotionally
obsessed
with him.

He found himself thinking of her
the next morning and well beyond that. He found himself reliving the sex they
had together over and over and craving for more of it. But he couldn’t make the
first move. That was the one and only time, he told himself. He was a professor
at the college, and she was his student.

It was wrong.

But she had come to him. Offered
herself up to him in the manner he relished. He was willing to bet she had
never done something like that before when she marched up to his office, bypassed
his PA and spread her legs for him on his guest chair.

He took her then and there.

How could he not? He was just a
man. And a shifter. His sexual urges were higher than most.

But the tables were turned.

In the time they spent together,
he found himself being more and more obsessed with her. Yes,
obsessed
was the right word. He craved her body like a drug. He could bury himself in
her pussy all day, all night if she permitted him – breathe in that sweet
womanly scent of her and tongue her senseless. He could drown himself in her
mouth. He could not get enough of her tits, her ass, her holes – all of
them. He could fuck her and fuck her forever and lose himself in her body. He
loved the way her flesh engulfed him, and how – when he touched her
– she was soft and comforting all over, not hard like those athletically
toned shifter women were.

That was why he loved sinking his
body into hers and against her flesh. He loved rubbing their skins together,
their mouths together, their genitals together. He couldn’t get enough of her,
and he knew he had it bad.

Oh Kate
, he groaned.

It would have been wonderful had
it not been for that other thing. The thing that was taking him over now.

The urges he had to shift, to
become more
animal
– more beast than man – came with
something else.

It was the need to
devour
.

There was another reason why he craved
being with Kate so much. Her blood excited him. The smell of it, the feel of it
coursing down her veins, gathering in her heart as it pumped it in its circuit
around her fleshy body. And not only her blood, but her flesh. The sweet, sweet
scent of it. The taste of her skin as he licked her.

His obsession with her went
beyond being carnal. It was a deeply psychological need to be with her physically,
and yet having to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into her flesh. He
had to wrestle with these juxtaposing needs. It was complex, like something out
of the Jung he taught in class.

And lately, there was something
else. A third component to finish the triumvirate of his obsession and despair.

He
wanted
to be with her
for reasons beyond the physical.

He enjoyed being with Kate
Penney. He enjoyed the little things they did together outside of sex. He liked
her quiet presence in a room. He liked watching her do mundane things.

He liked being with her, period.

Now there were three reasons why
he wanted to be with her. And one of them was dark and dangerous and frightening
even to him.

What was he turning into?

And would Kate be his victim?

They always became the victim,
eventually.

Unless he could stop himself.