Find Me Alastar

He rips his pants down his legs and I am blessed with the sight of a perfect male specimen. He’s tall,

athletic, rippled with muscle, and is currently as hard as hell. His cock hangs heavily between his legs. I

can see every vein in its engorged length.

I’ve never seen a man so hot, so aroused, or so bloody perfect. The sight of him mixed with the flick

of my fingers over my clitoris makes me come and I lurch forward.

Then he has me lifted up against the shower wall with my legs around his waist and he impales me in

one hard push. I cry out and his eyes roll back in his head at the overwhelming feel of this claiming.

He lifts me like a feather, back and forth onto his cock, and I feel him get harder and harder until he

feels like he might just break me.

I close my eyes to try and deal with the brutality that he’s taking me with. I’m so wet, and the sound of

our bodies slapping together rings loudly over the water.

His mouth drops to my neck and he bites me hard. My body lurches forward in another earth shatteringContentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

orgasm and he shudders as he comes deep within me.

We stay still. He has me pinned to the wall by the body. But it is my heart that has the stake pushed

clean through it. He kisses me, gentle and tender. His tongue taking no prisoners as the emotion starts to

drag me by the hair into the darkness of addiction.

“Don’t fight with me again,” he whispers against my lips.

I smile and try to hide the despair I feel towards my traitor of a heart as it concedes defeat.

“Okay.” I whisper. “I won’t.”

Alastar O’shea.

Has there ever been a more perfect human specimen?

I doubt it, to be honest. I watch him as we lie next to the fire. It’s late on Monday night and we have

had the most amazing evening, having just polished off two bottles of red wine together. He is sitting with

his back against the lounger on the floor, and I am lying horizontal to him on a mattress he has bought

down stairs for me to lay on in front of the fire. He’s deep in thought and his hand runs idly up over my

foot, his unruly hair falling over his eyes. This man is artistic and intelligent, he’s neat and wealthy, not to

mention absolutely perfect in bed. What do we have in common?

I’m messy, uncoordinated, squishy around the edges, and totally not hard to get. I know nothing about

him, and yet I feel like I know everything about him, too. I can’t even act hard to get. Now I want him. I

want him in my life. How… how do I get from where we are now to where I want to be?

Where do I want to be?

That’s a good question, because in all honesty, I don’t even know.

His eyes glance up to me and he smiles softly. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just how you tried to kill me tonight.” He shakes his head and smiles as he goes back to his book.

Tonight he took me to the liquor shop on his handlebars to buy wine. I haven’t had so much fun in years

until we went over a bump and I fell off. “I haven’t tried to kill you… yet.” He smirks to himself.

I smile. “Does that mean your going to?” I tease.

“When the time comes.” He picks up my foot and kisses it gently with his eyes still focused on his

book.

See, that should disturb me, but it doesn’t. It gives me hope that we will still be seeing each other.

What kind of sick, twisted fuck am I, anyway?

My phone rings in my handbag in the kitchen, and Alastar immediately gets up to retrieve it for me. He

misses the call and hands me the phone. “Brielle,” he states as he hands it over. I call her back.

“Hi.” I smile.

“Oh my fuck, I’ve ruined it,” she gasps.

I frown. “What have you ruined?”

“Julian.”

I smile and Alastar frowns at me in question. I shrug. I have no idea what she is talking about.

“I’m coming over immediately,” she blurts out.

I frown. “Umm… I’m not at home.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Alastar’s.”

“Oh.” She goes silent.

Alastar waves his hand as if to say go.

“We could meet for coffee somewhere,” I reply. Jeez, I really don’t want to leave him, but maybe I

could come back here after we have finished.

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yes.” She sighs. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yes. Fine. Going crazy, perhaps.”

“What happened?”