Agent Alpha and the mexican mix-up

His needs

*Astrid*

The growl that echoes through the room is that of a wounded animal. I had started looking through some bills and paperwork after coming home, waiting for Zac. I have my back to the door and I spin around to see Zac charging toward me. I almost hike up my dress and run. But I realize he is not angry with me, just stressed and frustrated and out of balance.

The pain in his eyes as he stalks closer tells me that. Then his hands are on my waist, and he is lifting me onto the desk, coming to stand between my legs.

His hazel eyes are feral, filled with so many emotions. Knowing what he is, I think I should be frightened, but I trust that no matter how out of it he may get he won’t hurt me. His pride is bruised, scored, battered … and he is stressed about what happened to him. I can see that now, wish I understood earlier.

“I wanted to kill that bloody bastard”. He grounds out. “I hate letting men like him go, he was laughing at me.”

I run a hand through his hair. “I know … I feel you. Sadly we can’t just kill the bastards”.

His dark laughter echoing around us, he shakes his head. “I need to forget it all for a bit”. With those large strong hands that have brought me so much pleasure, he grabs my summer dress, and rips it asunder with one mighty tug that causes my breasts to spill out, as I am not watering a bra. “All I want right now is you”. He growls before taking one n****e in his mouth and sucking hard.

I drop my head back as pleasure tears through me. “I know”.

“I want you over and over”. He growls. He moves to the other breast, closing his mouth around the turgid pearl and tugging.

“I know”. I barely manage as sensations course through me.

“I’m going to make you scream my name. I love you”. He brackets my face, his gaze boring into mine. “You own my heart. Forever”.

I nod jerkily. “I know. I love you too”.

“But right now I want you in my bed”. He mumbles.

“I know”. I repeat, for what else can I say? I do know.

He buries his face against my breasts, closing his arms tightly around me. “I love you so much … I will always be here”. He emphasizes slowly, ardently, and I can’t help but wonder if he is striving to convince himself for some reason.

Combing my fingers gently through his hair, I repeat softly. “I know.”

He presses his lips to the inside of one breast, needing only to turn his head slightly to kiss the other. “You taste so damn good, to feel so damned good.”

Raising my legs, I wrap them around him as securely as I can. I scrape my fingers through his hair, bring my hands around until I am cupping his face between my palms, tilting his head up so I can hold his gaze. “I think I know precisely what you want. What do you want, my love ?”

His harsh curse just before he swoops in to claim my mouth should not have delighted me, but the raw intensity of it has pleasure and satisfaction spiraling through me. I think he may very well devour me with the feverishness with which he takes possession of my lips, my tongue. Always there is a wildness between us, but at this moment it is more untamed, more uncivilized than it has ever been.

I know he has been battered and bruised by the last few days, but the truth of it is that it only makes me want him more. We are more alike than he will ever realize, willing to do whatever is necessary to protect those who need protecting, to ensure a safe future for those we love.

And when his heated mouth brands my throat with a series of kisses and bites, I can’t help but feel that within the realm of pleasure, I truly belong to him as he does to me. Here we communicate more honestly than we do at any other time. Here there are no barriers, no past, no fear. Here at least there is raw need, primitive desires, and bare wants.

With an arm around my hips, he drags me to the very edge of the desk, shoves up my skirt, unfastens his trousers, and plunges deep and sure. My cry of pleasure mingles with his groan of satisfaction.

“You feel so damned good”. He growls, before again capturing my mouth, my tongue thrusting in a rhythm that matches the movements of his hips, his arm at my back supporting me.

Clinging to him, I tighten my arms around his shoulders. I am a wanton to enjoy this so much, with the cool air wafting over my breasts, my straining n*****s tingling as his jacket rubs over them. Here in the office, on the desk, he pumps into me hard and fast. His mouth leaves mine to taste me elsewhere: my chin, my throat, the sensitive skin just below my ear where my pulse thrums wildly.

Trying to hold back my cries, I bite my lower lip, but the action does nothing to muffle my scream when I finally come apart in his arms, trembling with the force of my release. His groan is that of a conqueror as he tenses, pouring his seed into me. With my legs, I squeeze his hips, tighten my muscles around him. He jerks and grunts before dropping his head to my shoulder.

“You have ruined this desk for me”. He says, his breaths coming in hard, short bursts. “How can I work here now without seeing you sprawled over it?”

“I’m not sprawled.” I point out.

Lifting his head, he holds my gaze briefly before lowering his eyes to my breasts. “I can’t take you out to dinner like this”.

I laugh lightly. “No, I suppose you can’t”.

Stepping back, he lowers my skirt, then begins to fasten his trousers. I don’t want to acknowledge how bereft I feel with his leaving. He whips off his jacket and drapes it over a chair. I suddenly find myself in his arms, being carried from the room.

“I can walk”. I say.

“After the way you cried out, I assume you’re far too weak. Your legs are still trembling”. He mumbles softly.

I feel the heat suffusing my face. “You weren’t so quiet yourself, you know.”

“And whose fault is that?” He says.

I don’t bother to hide my smile as I lay my head against his shoulder.

*Zac*

I have never known a woman like her … ever in my life. She matches Lady Godiva for boldness, and I can well imagine her riding naked through the streets without a single blush forming anywhere on her person. And damned if I don’t want her again with a fierceness that makes me feel almost barbaric.

After I kick the door to our bedroom closed behind us, I do precisely as she suggested on the way up here and rips what remains of her clothing from her body. Making sure not to hurt her in the process.

There is something immensely satisfying and feral in the rasp of rending satin and silk, in the way that Astrid simply stands there and lets me have my way with her, her eyes smoldering with needs that match my own.

When she is completely bared, I lift her back into my arms, carry her to the foot of the bed, and toss her onto her stomach, leaving her legs to dangle over the mattress.

Breathing heavily, she rises up onto her elbows and gazes back over her shoulder at me as I tear off my own clothes, buttons popping off and pinging onto the floor with my haste. So desperate to possess her, I had considered merely unfastening my trousers again but I enjoy the feel of her silken skin against mine a little too much. I am going to take her fast and hard, but by God, I want no cloth between us this time.

When I have shed the last of my clothing, I step up between her thighs, parting them with a spreading of my own legs. Leaning over her, I layered a series of kisses along her shoulder, following the curve of her neck. “You said the other day that I could take you from behind”. I rasp.

Her eyes heat further, her voice breathless. “So I did”.

I bracket her hips, lifting them slightly, and plunge into the molten depths, her cry of satisfaction echoing between us. I slide one hand around until I brush the tight curls at her apex, then I part the folds and press a finger to the swollen nubbin. I apply more pressure, caressing her outwardly while slowly stroking her inwardly.

She is whimpering and wiggling. I rain kisses between her shoulder blades, and can feel her tightening around me as her whimpers turn to throaty moans and her breaths become uneven.

“Fly, Astrid”. I rasp near her ear before swirling my tongue along the delicate shell of it. “Fly free”.

Her cry comes as she bucks against me, and her muscles close tightly around me like a velvet vise. I grab her hips and pound into her a mere handful of times before my own release tears through me, darkening the edges of my vision until all I can see is her profile, with lashes half lowered and lips parted in wonder.

Sinking slowly down, I press my cheek to hers, placing my arms so I carry my weight, and my chest barely skims her back. But it is enough to tame the beast that rages within me, the one that wants her almost too much.

She shifts her arm slightly, and her hand is suddenly in my hair, holding me near to her. And I realize with unerring accuracy that I have made many mistakes in my life, but when it comes to her, I have no regrets. I just hope I am worthy of her.