curse of the alpha - episode 03 & 04 Page 6

  Cressida chose that moment to pull back and gaze into Ainsley’s eyes. She knew

  exactly what she was doing.

  Ainsley’s heart thundered. She tried to break their contact, but Cressida’s eyes were beautiful – so limpid and brown.

  Suddenly, the playfulness disappeared from her gaze, and Ainsley heard Cressida’s

  heart crash in her chest. Her lips parted. A throbbing folded glow began to surround

  Cressida. She looked like a goddess.

  Something surged in Ainsley and she grasped Cressida’s shoulders and spun her to pin

  her against the wall, reversing their positions.

  Cressida gasped and pressed her hands to the wall behind herself without fighting

  back.

  Ainsley felt a pang of joy at this show of submission. She stroked Cressida’s glowing hair approvingly.

  Cressida closed her eyes and leaned into Ainsley’s hand.

  The whole room shone with amber light now, Cressida’s body radiated waves of heat

  and tiny twinkles of golden light sparked at their touch.

  Cressida turned her head and kissed Ainsley’s hand. When Ainsley didn’t move to stop

  her, she continued, mouthing Ainsley’s wrist and arm, and moaning in excitement.

  A sense of power overwhelmed Ainsley. She felt like she was no longer in control of

  herself.

  “Get on the floor,” she heard herself say.

  Cressida was on her knees before the words were out of her mouth. She looked up at

  Ainsley imploringly.

  Ainsley dropped to the ground beside her and pushed her onto her back. Cressida fell

  back without resistance and again Ainsley’s heart leapt in delight.

  She let her hand slide down Cressida’s face and between her breasts. A line of stars

  reached up toward her hand in the path of her touch.

  Cressida arched into Ainsley’s hand, barely breathing.

  Suddenly, Ainsley felt a hunger to see Cressida’s skin. With a strength she didn’t know she had, she ripped Cressida’s flimsy camisole in half.

  Cressida trembled. Her tiny pink nipples were as hard as pebbles. A warm haze

  emanated from her whole body.

  Ainsley was mesmerized. She ran her palm just over Cressida’s body without touching

  her. The haze shimmered and danced for her.

  Cressida reached up and grazed Ainsley’s breast with her hand, as if begging Ainsley

  for that same contact.

  An electric current went through them both at the touch.

  Cressida slipped her hands under Ainsley’s dress and slid it over her head.

  The tiny voice that normally would have told Ainsley to be embarrassed of her body in front of the fashion model undressing her was out to lunch.

  Instead, Ainsley stretched and reveled in the curves of her powerful feminine body.

  The air felt good on her skin and Cressida smelled like sex and submission.

  Cressida’s glittering eyes fixed on Ainsley’s breasts. She looked up at Ainsley,

  pleading.

  Ainsley lowered her chin slightly in consent.

  Cressida fell on Ainsley’s breasts, kissing their tops and feeling and weighing them in her hands. She opened the front clasp of Ainsley’s bra and slid it off to get to them.

  Each touch was so intense it was almost painful. Ainsley tolerated as much as she

  could, stroking the girl’s hair encouragingly. But when Cressida allowed her teeth to graze Ainsley’s nipple Ainsley had finally had enough.

  She ripped Cressida off her chest.

  Cressida stared into Ainsley’s eyes again in wordless hunger.

  Ainsley’s heart drummed a harsh tattoo. She fell to her back.

  Cressida immediately straddled her body, facing away from Ainsley, and leaned down

  to peel Ainsley’s panties off.

  In this position, Ainsley was staring at Cressida’s firm and shapely bottom. Ainsley

  could smell Cressida’s extreme arousal through her lacy thong as well as the sharp but older scent of Erik.

  It was fascinating. Without a thought, she ripped the tiny lacy triangle into pieces.

  Cressida froze.

  Ainsley could see that Cressida’s sex was swollen and pouting, its impossibly pink lips beckoning her. She leaned up on an elbow to run a finger between them from top to

  bottom.

  Cressida cried out with pleasure and buried her face between Ainsley’s legs, moaning.

  For a moment Ainsley thought she would die. Cressida licked and sucked at her madly.

  Ainsley could feel each lash of Cressida’s tongue all over her body. The pleasure was so powerful it bordered on pain. She squeezed her eyes shut to try and bear it.

  Even in the dark, she couldn’t ignore the unbelievable smell right in front of her nose.

  She opened her eyes to see poor Cressida’s pussy, soaking wet and swollen. The

  engorged pink lips were parting as if to invite Ainsley inside. And the tip of her trembling clitoris peeked out, begging for attention.

  Captivated, Ainsley lay back and pulled Cressida’s hips down nearly to her face.

  Cressida obeyed immediately, without taking her mouth off Ainsley.

  Ainsley laid a hand on each side of Cressida’s swollen lips and pressed them together without touching them.

  Cressida bucked and moaned, then suckled harder on Ainsley.

  Ainsley arched her back with the unbearable pleasure.

  She ran her thumbs up to open Cressida wide. The smell of her frantic excitement was

  overwhelming. Her clitoris was stiff and swollen and it seemed to tremble.

  Just then Cressida slid a finger into Ainsley’s pussy and hooked the spot that would

  have made her cry with pleasure, even if she weren’t drunk on whatever this was.

  Ainsley stiffened and cried out. Her face pressed unintentionally into Cressida’s pussy.

  Cressida seemed to melt under the contact. She went silent and moved her hips softly

  against Ainsley’s face.

  Ainsley’s mouth and chin were slick with the evidence of Cressida’s longing. She ran

  her tongue over her lips, the taste was so perfect she growled with pleasure before

  attacking the girl’s pussy with her fingers and mouth - sucking her and teasing her with both hands.

  Cressida howled with lust and continued to pleasure Ainsley.

  As she felt herself climaxing, Ainsley took Cressida’s clit in her mouth and licked and nipped at it as she slid her fingers in and out of her rapidly.

  They came together, and explosively. Ainsley’s skin tingled with electricity.

  As soon as it was done she pushed Cressida off her.

  The high of the orgasm was still burning in her veins, but the glow was gone. Cressida lay on the floor beside her, panting.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Ainsley was speechless. She felt very much like Ainsley Connor again and not

  whatever she had just been.

  She could see her dress by Cressida’s hand. Maybe she could just surreptitiously swipe it back and put it on.

  Cressida laughed, eyes crinkled up and a look of wonder on her face.

  “Holy shit, Connor. You do not know how to eat pussy. But damned if I wouldn’t fuck

  you again anyway.”

  “I don’t know what that was, but I did not do that on purpose. So if you think it’s going to happen again, you’re out of your mind.”

  Ainsley scrambled up and grabbed her dress. She stepped on Cressida’s ripped

  panties, which stuck embarrassingly to the bottom of her foot.

  “I’m very sorry about your clothes. I’ll loan you something,” she added with as much

  dignity as she could muster. Although what she might have in the house that wouldn’t be 4 sizes too big on Cressida she couldn’t imagi
ne.

  Cressida laughed again.

  “Don’t worry about the underpants, sister,” she leered.

  Ainsley purposefully ignored the flirtatious tone and hurried off to her bedroom to find the smallest shirt she could.

  Cressida trotted along behind her.

  “Was this your room in high school?” she asked from the doorway.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “It’s pretty neat that your parents kept it for you.”

  Ainsley spun to look at Cressida. Her expression was innocent enough. Ainsley

  relaxed.

  “Yeah, they were always wanting me to visit.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Nope, I didn’t.”

  Ainsley pulled one of her high school softball t-shirts out of a drawer. It was a medium

  – it would have to do.

  “Cressida, do you know what just happened?” Ainsley asked earnestly.

  A look crossed Cressida’s face and she seemed to make a decision.

  “Look, Ainsley, I like fucking with you, but honestly I really don’t know what

  happened. I’m kind of embarrassed about it, to tell you the truth. When I asked you to do that again I sort of thought…”

  Ainsley waited.

  “…I sort of thought that maybe you could turn me into the alpha. I know that’s stupid, I could never be the alpha – for so many reasons. But when you made me glow the other night… I just couldn’t help but think.”

  Ainsley smiled sympathetically.

  “It felt good to me too. I’m sorry neither of us knew where it was going,” Ainsley said.

  “You would make a really interesting alpha, Cressida. If I could hand it to you and walk away, I would.”

  Cressida looked at her skeptically, then dissolved into laughter again.

  “I think you really would, wouldn’t you?”

  Ainsley smiled back at her.

  “I gotta’ go, Connor, but don’t get sentimental on me. We’ll do this again some other time.”

  In a heartbeat, the beautiful young woman was gone, replaced by the giant, silver

  wolf. She gave Ainsley one final smile, not altogether different from her human grin, and bolted down the stairs.

  Cressida was out the back door before Ainsley could react. She glanced out her

  bedroom window just in time to see the sleek silver form disappear into the woods.

  Ainsley stood there, staring out the window, softball t-shirt forgotten in her hand, for a full five minutes, lost in her thoughts.

  What had just happened with Cressida?

  What was going to happen tonight with Clive?

  Was this town turning her into some kind of magical were-slut?

  Ainsley was feeling out of control. It was an unfamiliar feeling and not one that she liked.

  C H A P T E R

  4

  A insley found it very hard to concentrate on anything that afternoon.

  Every time she emptied a piece of furniture, she would find herself spinning around,

  unable to decide what to trash. Several times she would complete work on a piece and

  go back to it, opening and closing the drawers blindly before remembering what she was trying to do.

  She took the time to move the gems of her father’s book collection into her childhood bedroom. She packed them neatly and then made a sign, proclaiming the room “Off

  Limits.”

  By the time 2:00 came Ainsley was completely on edge. She stepped onto the porch

  to put another homemade sign out front to welcome anyone who decided to come by,

  and caught her breath.

  Out on the path and down the sidewalk dozens of people stood quietly, waiting. Some

  looked up and smiled at her. Others glared in open resentment.

  Ainsley cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “Thank you for coming. Why don’t you all come in? Everything in the house is

  available except for the front second floor bedroom, which is off-limits. There’s a sign marking it.”

  People began filing in. The first group was a mother and her grown daughter, they

  went right to the dining room and exclaimed over the buffet. Ainsley’s heart ached,

  thinking of her own mother.

  “If there’s something that you want, put a tag on it with your name. I’ll give you until 4pm to pick it up,” she said to them softly, handing them a sticky and a pen.

  “Thank you, Ainsley,” the mother said. “We wish you would consider staying. We want

  that more than any furniture.”

  Ainsley gulped air and stepped away. A man was apprising the oak kitchen table and

  benches and frowning over the drink ring. It felt like someone had kicked her in the lungs.

  Back out to the living room she went. Some people had brought milk crates and

  contractor bags – they were filling them with her parents’ books and other odds and ends.

  An older lady standing with a young man must have seen the pain in Ainsley’s eyes.

  She took her by the elbow and said, “Honey, this will be easier if you go out on the porch and get some fresh air.”

  She led Ainsley outside and guided her to the porch chairs. They sat and looked out at the breeze lifting the leaves in the oak tree.

  “It’s hard to let go, isn’t it?” the lady asked kindly.

  Ainsley couldn’t speak, but she nodded.

  “You know, you don’t have to do this. Why not just get a house sitter? You can go

  back to New York and see if it still seems interesting after a week back in Tarker’s Mills.

  There’s no rush. I’ll go in right now and break up this nonsense.”

  Ainsley shook her head.

  “I’m sure you have a lot of people pressuring you to do a lot of things. I heard they were pushing Clive Warren on you. And he doesn’t really seem your type.”

  Ainsley looked at her hands. Did anything stay secret in the town?

  “Ainsley, you should know that there’s not a man in this town who would refuse you if you chose him. Not one. It doesn’t matter if he’s young or old, even if he’s married. No one in this town will lift a finger.”

  Ainsley looked back out at the oak tree. A squirrel was scrambling up its side

  frantically at the approach of more people with bags and boxes.

  “The boy in there you saw me with. He’s my grandson. He’s fifteen years old. I love

  him more than anything in the world. He’s already being courted for a lacrosse

  scholarship to Princeton.”

  Ainsley smiled faintly.

  “If you said the word I would rip the lacrosse stick out of his hand and send him to

  your bed tonight.”

  Ainsley’s stomach clenched violently. Was that supposed to reassure her? She stood,

  shaking, willing herself not to vomit.

  A neighbor stepped out of the front door with Ainsley’s mom’s beloved tool bag.

  “Ainsley Connor, I am so sorry to see you go, but I’m grateful to this memento of your mom. Some of my happiest memories are in that hardware store. We’re gonna miss you,

  girl.”

  He shook her hand firmly and walked away.

  The young boy stepped outside.

  “Grandma?”

  “I’m here, Nicholas.” The woman gestured him over. “This is Ainsley, sweetheart.”

  “Hi!” Ainsley blurted, dropping her eyes and scampering back toward the front door.

  The idea that she could even accidentally draw that poor young boy’s alpha was so

  upsetting she just wanted to hide.

  In the living room, a woman was trying to put a sticky on the floor lamp that her dad always read by. It had a commemorative Tiffany-style glass shade from the Tarker’s Mill Bi-Centennial celebration. The woman noticed her watching.

  “I just want a souvenir of this town
since it isn’t going to be around much longer. At least not in its current form.”

  Ainsley turned on her heel and fell into the arms of a man her father’s age. She knew he was one of the town patriarchs from up on the hill, but couldn’t remember his name.

  “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed instinctively.

  He drew her close and whispered in her ear.

  “I know the problem and I can help.”

  She drew back and searched his eyes. How could he possibly help?

  He pulled her into the corner of the parlor behind the piano.

  “You’re a lesbian, aren’t you?” he whispered a little too loudly.

  Ainsley gasped. Could anyone have found out about what she’d done with Cressida so

  quickly?

  “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “Listen, I’ll bet you think that just because you’re not attracted to men you can’t draw an alpha. But it can be done so long as you find

  something to love, respect and commit to in that male. And after you mate with him once it doesn’t have to be physical anymore. You can actually screw as many women as you

  want!”

  Ainsley was speechless.

  “As a matter of fact,” he confided, “your choice of alpha may be superior in this case, because you will choose solely on strength and merit - not on personal predilection.”

  “Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me,” Ainsley said as politely as she could.

  “I am glad I could assist you. And I hope you’ll let your alpha know how helpful my

  counsel was today,” he solemnly intoned.

  Dear God. At this rate by 4:00 she’d be in a mental ward.

  Just then there was a sharp knock on the door. Ainsley excused herself and went to

  see who would knock during an obvious free-for-all.

  It was Carol Lotus.

  “Ainsley,” she said primly in her quavery voice.

  “Oh hi, Carol,” Ainsley said, relieved. “Come on upstairs, I put the books in my room so no one else would take them.”

  Carol followed her up the stairs without a word. They went into Ainsley’s bedroom and Ainsley gestured to two boxes.

  “I’ll help you carry them out. I think that should be everything of value from the

  collection here. He would want the college to have it.”

  “Since when are you concerned with what he would want?” Carol snapped.

  Ainsley’s heart began to break.

  “Your father loved this pack. He loved his town. He sacrificed of himself for the