Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 93

Regis

She stared at it for a long moment, and I felt her nervousness spike through the bond. But there was curiosity there too, and determination, and that sweet thread of desire that had been building all evening.

"Eileen—" My voice came out strangled. "You really don't have to—"

"Teach me." She looked up at me, eyes serious despite the blush staining her cheeks. "Show me how to make you feel good."

*Oh gods.* Any remaining blood in my brain fled south. "Are you... are you absolutely certain?"

"I'm certain." She reached up, fingers hovering near but not quite touching. "Please. I want to learn."

That word—*please*—in that soft, pleading tone, nearly broke me.

"All right." I had to clear my throat twice before I could continue. "All right. Start... start slow. Just touch it first. Get used to the feel."

Her fingers closed around my shaft, and I had to grab the doorframe behind me to stay upright. So soft. So small compared to me. And the way she looked, kneeling there with my cock in her hand, studying it like something so precious—

"It's so warm," she murmured, almost to herself. "And it's... pulsing."

"That's—" I had to stop, breathe. "That's my heartbeat. You can feel it because... because I want you so badly."

She glanced up at me, something like wonder in her expression. Then, before I could prepare myself, she leaned forward and licked across the tip.

The sensation shot through me like lightning. My hips jerked forward involuntarily, and I had to fight every instinct to grab her hair and thrust into that wet heat.

"Sorry," I gasped. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay." She sounded breathless herself. "You taste... different than I expected. Not bad. Just... intense."

She licked me again, more deliberately this time, and I bit back a groan.

"Eileen, if you keep—if we're going to do this, I need you to understand. I'm going to want more. A lot more. And it's going to be very, very hard for me to control myself."

"I trust you." Simple. Absolute. And more devastating than any practiced seduction could have been.

She opened her mouth, taking just the head inside. Hot. Wet. Perfect. Her tongue pressed against the underside, exploring, and I couldn't stop the low sound that rumbled from my chest.

*Easy,* I told the beast inside me, who was practically feral with the need to thrust deeper. *She's never done this before. I have to be careful.*

Her head bobbed down, taking more of me, then pulled back. Down again, a little deeper. Each movement sent pleasure cascading through me, tightening the coil of heat in my lower belly.

"Use your tongue," I managed to instruct, voice barely recognizable. "Yes, just like that. And you can—gods—you can use your hand on the parts that won't fit."

She followed my guidance with endearing concentration, one hand wrapping around my base while her mouth worked the upper half. It wasn't practiced or expert, but the enthusiasm, the obvious desire to please me, made it better than anything I could have imagined.

"That's perfect," I groaned. "You're perfect. So good for me."

The praise made her moan around me, the vibration nearly ending me right there. I felt her free hand slide between her own legs, touching herself through the lace I'd glimpsed earlier, and that image—her pleasuring herself while she pleasured me—almost shoved me over the edge.

But then she tried to take me deeper, and I felt her gag slightly, pulling back with watering eyes.

"Stop." The command came out harsher than intended. "Stop, that's enough."

She looked up at me, confused and a little hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. God, no." I reached down, thumbs wiping the moisture from the corners of her eyes. "You're amazing. But you're not ready for more than this, and I'm not going to hurt you just because I can't control myself."

Because the truth was, I'd felt the change in our bond the moment she'd struggled. Felt her discomfort, the way her throat had protested taking more of me. And no matter how desperately I wanted to thrust deeper, to feel ourselves buried completely in that wet heat, I wouldn't do it at the cost of her pain.

"But you didn't—"

"I'm not going to." I gripped her shoulders, pulling her gently to her feet. "Not like this. Not when it's hurting you."

She opened her mouth to argue, but I silenced her with a kiss—deep and claiming, tasting myself on her tongue and finding the combination unbearably erotic.

"What I am going to do," I growled against her lips, "is show you exactly what you do to me. Wrap your legs around me."

She obeyed immediately, and I lifted her in one smooth motion—one arm hooked under her thighs, the other bracing her lower back. The oversized shirt rode up, exposing the lace beneath, and the heat of her core pressed against my stomach made me groan.

Three strides to the wall. I turned us at the last second, my hand sliding between her spine and the plaster as I pressed her against it. My knee wedged between her legs, taking most of her weight. Even through the haze of need, I made sure she was cushioned, supported.

"Tell me you want this," I demanded, my free hand already reaching down to tear away the lace. "Say it, Eileen."

"I want this." Her voice was breathless, eyes dark with desire. "I want you. Please—"

I positioned myself at her entrance—already slick, already ready—and drove home in one hard thrust.

Her cry tore through the room, back arching sharply as I filled her completely. *Gods.* So tight. So perfect. Her body gripped me like it was designed for this alone.

"Regis—!" She clawed at my shoulders, nails biting through fabric. "You're—it's too—"

"Too much?" I pulled out halfway, felt her try to pull me back. "Or not enough?"

I thrust back in, deeper, and her answer dissolved into broken sounds. Whatever restraint I'd been clinging to snapped. My hips found a rhythm—hard, fast, relentless. The hand at her back kept her pinned to me, kept the wall from bruising her, but everything else was pure claiming.

"You started this," I growled against her throat, each word punctuated with a thrust. "Wearing my shirt. Kneeling for me with those innocent eyes. Making me lose my fucking mind."

"I'm sorry—" The words came out half-moan, half-sob.

"Don't be sorry." I nipped at her throat, just below her jaw. "You wanted to drive me crazy. Congratulations—you succeeded."

My hand slipped between our bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The moment I pressed down, she *detonated*. Her inner walls clamped around me like a vice, her whole body going rigid before the shaking started.

"Regis—!" My name came out as a scream.

I felt her climax through the bond—the white-hot burst of pleasure, the way it crested and crashed—and it nearly dragged me over with her. My hips stuttered, rhythm faltering as I fought to hold back.

*Not yet. Not yet. Need to move her—*

I pulled out—ignoring her protesting whimper—and caught her before her legs could give out. Three steps to the bed. I laid her down among the scattered petals, and my hand went automatically to her lower belly, splaying there for just a heartbeat.

Through the bond, I felt her surprise at the gesture, then a wave of warmth that nearly unmade me.

*No pain. She's ready for more.*

"Turn over," I said, voice still rough with need. "Hands and knees, Eileen."