Page 91 of The Florist and Her Alphas

He cuts a piece of bacon with the edge of the fork. Brings it to my mouth. I open. The bacon is crispy, salty, and perfect. I hum around it, and he kisses the curve of my neck while I chew, his lips soft against my skin.

“Good?” he murmurs.

“So good.”

He feeds me another bite of egg. Another piece of bacon. His free hand has settled low on my hip, his thumb rubbing slow, possessive circles into my skin. His breathing changes, and I can tell where this is going as I feel his bare chest behind me.

His knees move. He nudges my thighs apart with his own, spreading me open on his lap, and I gasp with the fork still in my mouth, feeling helpless.

“You’re going to keep eating your breakfast,” he says, low and rough. “You’re going to be a good girl and finish your plate. Okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble around the eggs.

His hand slides down from my hip to between my legs, cupping my pussy instantly. I am already wet, and he chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest into my back.

“Already wet?” he says, and I flush hot. “Fuck, Lia. You’re soaked. I’m going to wake you up properly.”

He brings the fork to my mouth with his other hand. I take the bite obediently, cheeks burning. His middle finger slides between my folds slowly, and I make a small, soft sound around the eggs.

He pushes a finger inside me. I tighten around him and gasp as slick seeps onto his thighs.

“Mhm,” I groan as he feeds me another bite.

“Shh, you can take my finger. You took my knot twice in your little pussy,” he whispers. “Are you still sore, baby?”

“Just a little bit,” I say, even though I am, because I don’t want him to remove his finger.

He works his finger in deep, slow, in time with the rhythm of feeding me. I take another bite as he pumps his finger in and out of me. His thumb finds my clit and circles it, light and maddening. Slowly, he adds a second finger, stretching me, and I squirm against his lap.

He holds me in place with the arm across my waist.

“Keep eating,” he says, and his voice has gone rough.

I do. I am panting between bites now, my chest rising and falling fast, and he alternates between feeding me and bringing me closer to the edge with his hand between my thighs. His cock is hard against the small of my back through his boxers, and his breath is starting to go ragged in my ear.

“I’m going to do this for you every morning,” he whispers. “Every single morning. Your pussy is so wet, I’m going to make you squirt all over me.”

His thumb moves on my clit in slow, tight circles while two of his fingers are inside me, and I am trying to swallow another bite of egg.

Suddenly my thighs begin to shake and tremble as my pussy clenches hard, releasing a stream of slick high into the air.

“Oh, oh.. Oh!” I scream as my slick squirts all over the floor and on his lap.

“Wow, yes, squirt all over me, baby,” he growls as he fingers me harder, pushing deeper inside until every drop of slick is drained out of me. He works me through it gently, his fingers slowing, his thumb easing off, until I gasp softly and slump back against his chest, boneless.

He kisses my temple. Sets the fork down. Brings his fingers up to his own mouth and sucks them clean

“Oh, that was…” I say, gasping for air, unable to speak. “Julian, my god.”

“You’ve earned a shower,” he says, chuckling into my ear.

We abandon the half-finished plate of eggs on the table and stumble together into my tiny bathroom.

Once he has me under the shower, I’m pressed against the tile as he slides into my asshole from behind, stretching me wide since my pussy is so sore.

“Oh Julian,” I moan as he pushes deeper into my asshole as the hot water beats down over us. My hands are on the tile wall as he pounds into my butt, his balls slapping furiously against my skin.

“Yes, oh yes,” he growls as he continues to fuck my ass, keeping my legs spread wide with his foot.