The Alpha’s Pen Pal (Crescent Lake Book 1)

HAVEN

I stood on the front porch of Wesley’s house and smoothed my hands over my dress as I waited for him to let me in. His little bungalow house was cute and well taken care of, painted a light green with a swing on one side of the porch. The overall look gave off a homey, clean vibe, making me comfortable and relaxing my nerves about this date night.

I had a strong feeling about why he wanted to make dinner for me tonight. He’d held us off from going all the way at the beach because he said he wanted it to be romantic and special, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. Then he’d told me he wanted to make me dinner at his house, so I was crossing my fingers that the night would end with us in his bed.

No pressure, right?

I took a deep breath and smoothed down the front of my green dress again. I had made sure to dress up for this date since I hadn’t the previous time. He didn’t tell me to, but I wanted to. I wanted to look my absolute best for him. I wanted him to be unable to resist me.

Which was why my dress had tiny, thread-like straps and a slit that went all the way to the top of my thigh. I had made other preparations as well, in the hopes that the night went the way I wanted.

The door opened, and my eyes met the chocolate brown of Wesley’s, his smile faltering for a moment as he looked me up and down.

“Wow,” he said once his eyes were back to being level with mine.

I smiled at him, trying not to laugh at the dish towel he had thrown over his shoulder or his dressed-down outfit of the gray Stanford T-shirt I had slept in at the beach and jeans. Or at his bare feet.

“I didn’t dress up this time because last time you didn’t dress up, so I thought you would do the same again, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so I just wore jeans and a T-shirt instead and—”

I stepped into his house and grabbed him by his cheeks, pulling his face down and kissing him to stop his rambling.

His hand came to my waist, resting there as his other hand closed his front door behind me. Then he placed it in the small of my back, pushing me in closer to his body.

“Hi,” I breathed out as I broke our kiss.

“Hi,” he replied, smiling.

“I missed you,” I said before I could stop myself, and then my cheeks flushed, probably the brightest pink they’d ever been without makeup.

I couldn’t believe I’d said that. I always made fun of couples who said things like that. I never once missed Lennox or any other guy I’d dated when we were apart.

“I missed you too.” Wesley laughed, kissing me again and easing my self-consciousness. “Seriously, you look incredible,” he told me.

I smirked as I stepped back, setting my purse down on the little table in his entryway. I swayed side to side as I said, “I thought you said green wasn’t my color?”

He looked confused for a moment, a little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows, then he threw his head back and laughed.

“If it’s a dress that looks like that, then it can be any color you want it to be,” he said, his eyes scanning my body again, his gaze filled with more heat and desire than the first time. “Come on.” He held his hand out to me. “Dinner is almost ready.”

I took it and followed him through the house to the kitchen, my low-heeled sandals clicking on the dark hardwood flooring.

“Do you need any help with anything?” I asked him, stopping at the edge of the counter as he continued to the stove.

“No, everything is basically done.”

I nodded and glanced around the kitchen again, taking in the clean, white marble countertops and the white cabinetry, white backsplash, and white walls.

“It smells delicious,” I said, inhaling deeply.

“It’s my mom’s bolognese recipe, given to her by her mom, who got it from her mom… all the way back I don’t even know how far.” He chuckled.

“I can’t wait to try it.”

“Well, my mom’s is better. I know that for a fact. But mine comes pretty close,” he said as he pulled two plates out of the cabinets. “Did you want wine?” he asked, pausing with his hand on a glass and glancing back at me.

“Sure,” I breathed out, tearing my eyes away from his ass moving and tightening in his jeans as he reached for the dinnerware. “Just a small one, though, because I have to drive back to town tonight,” I added, testing his reaction.

He nodded and swallowed but said nothing else as he took two stemless wine glasses out and set them next to the plates. He poured us each a small glass of red wine, then turned to hand them both to me.

“Can you take these to the table, please? I’ll dish up our food and bring it over.”

I nodded and took them from him, maneuvering around his counter to his long, dark brown rectangular table in the dining area. I hesitated for a moment, then set his glass down at the head of the table, and sat down on his left, sipping my wine as I did.

I let the full-bodied flavor fill my mouth and savored it before I swallowed the sip, just as Maya had taught me.

Wes entered the room, with our plates in each of his hands, loaded up with spaghetti, red sauce, garlic bread, and salad.

“Wow!” I said as he set the plate in front of me and then took his own seat. “Seriously, this looks and smells fantastic!” I told him.

“Thank you, but please don’t sing my praises just yet.” He laughed. “You haven’t even tasted it.”

I smiled and picked up my fork, twirling the pasta around the tines and blowing on it a little before I took a bite. He watched me intently, and I didn’t miss him squirm in his chair when I blew on the pasta.

I took a slow bite and groaned out my delight at the hearty flavor of the meat sauce, pretending I didn’t see him bite his knuckles at the sound. But judging by the glare he gave me when I lowered my fork, he knew I did it on purpose.

“What? It’s superb!” I said, feigning innocence.

“Mmm hmm,” he replied, looking not at all convinced.

“Did you make the pasta too?” I asked, poking at it with my fork.

He shook his head. “That I can’t take credit for,” he admitted, taking his own bite of food. “Sebastian made the spaghetti noodles. I never got the hang of the homemade pasta like he did. I stick to the bolognese.”

“So Sebby can make lovely bouquets and cook? That’s so impressive!”

“Hmph,” he grunted, frowning and stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork.

I held in my laugh as I placed my hand on his forearm. “You’re an excellent cook as well,” I said. “And all the flowers you gave me were beautiful.”

I leaned forward out of my chair and kissed his cheek, then went back to my meal.

He seemed appeased by my words and my actions, and the rest of the meal passed by with us eating and laughing and talking about the days we’d spent apart since the beach.

“I still can’t believe Reid didn’t know who Tchaikovsky was.” I chuckled. I had my legs crossed underneath me, my shoes discarded under the table.

Wesley nodded, laughing too, his thumb rubbing my hand he held on top of the table. “I know. Nolan is still giving him a hard time for that one.”

I laughed again, then glanced at the clock in his kitchen, surprised that it was already after 09:00 p.m.

“Here,” I said, standing and grabbing both of our dishes. “Let me clean these before I go.”

I walked into the kitchen before he could say anything to stop me and felt him follow me. I turned on the sink and got the water hot, then worked on washing the dishes.

Wesley put the leftover food away and handed me his pots and pans as he did, working in tandem with me as we cleaned his kitchen, until his part was done, and he leaned against the wall, just watching me. I saw it then—saw a glimpse of us doing this together, night after night, first alone and then with little ones running around under our feet—and I almost dropped the glass in my hand from the shock of that thought.

A life. A future. A family. It was everything I’d always wanted but was too afraid to let myself dream of after Jack had his stroke. I didn’t want it with Lennox because everything with him always felt forced.

But it was different with Wesley. With him, I knew again that was exactly what I wanted, what he would give me when I was ready.

I turned the sink off and took a deep breath, closing my eyes and squeezing my shaky hands before drying them off.

The heat of Wesley’s body radiated into my back, and his hands worked their way from my hips to my thighs as he stepped up close behind me.

He brushed my long hair over one shoulder, and his breath tickled the back of my neck as he leaned in to kiss my bare skin. My head tilted back, resting against his chest as his left hand slipped inside the slit of my dress and then up my leg towards the spot I wanted him to touch the most.

A strangled noise left his chest as his fingers found my naked pussy, and his other hand gripped hard into my thigh. His hips pressed forward, and his nose slid up my neck to my ear.

“No panties?” he groaned, and I shuddered against him.

“I must have forgotten them,” I whispered.

“Liar.” He smiled. “Beautiful little liar.”

His lips met mine in a searing kiss, but he ended it before I could lose myself in it. I whimpered as he pulled away.

“What are you trying to do to me?” he asked.

He groaned again as I rubbed my ass against his hardening dick. I’d felt how hard he’d gotten during all our teasing and playing at the beach. I knew he’d rubbed one or more out after he dropped me off at home.

Before I could do anything else, though, he had me turned around and up in his arms, his hands under my skirt and gripping my bare ass. Our lips met again, and everything else disappeared. Every other thought gone from my mind save one.

Him. And being with him. Letting him take me in whatever way he wanted.

“Wesley,” I moaned out between kisses, vaguely aware he was moving through his house with my body wrapped around his.

My back hit the wall in the hallway, and he pressed one hand against it, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath. I rubbed myself against him, needing the friction, needing to feel something. My hands clutched at his shirt, trying to get it off him, to remove the barrier between his muscles and skin and my hands.

He let go of me and tore his shirt over his head, his hips pressing into me to hold me pinned against the wall. I raked my nails down his chest as his mouth found my neck, kissing, licking, and sucking at the sensitive flesh there.

The feel of his bare skin and the sensations from his mouth on my neck stoked the fire in my belly, making me yearn for more. My hands wrapped around his neck and up the back of his head, holding him there as he continued kissing me and moved us down the hall again.

He kicked his bedroom door shut behind him and carried me to his bed, tossing me on the white comforter before stepping back to undo his jeans.

I lifted my dress up over my hips, exposing my lower half to him, just like at the beach. My knees tipped apart, my head fell back in ecstasy, and my chest heaved in anticipation of what was to come next.

“Fucking shit, Haven,” he growled, his movements growing speedy and frantic as he undressed himself. I looked at him again, not wanting to miss watching him get naked. “Fuck, you are just…” He shook his head and pulled his jeans and boxers off in one go, stepping out of them and stalking towards me. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, his eyes focused on the apex of my thighs.

His cock was thick, hard, and long, and pointing straight at me as he sauntered over to me. I wasted no time pulling my dress over my head and throwing it somewhere in his room.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at me, drinking me in as I lay naked on his bed, propped up on my elbows with my legs spread and my chest rising and falling with every heavy breath.

His cock twitched, and he grabbed it and stroked it once, never breaking eye contact with me as he moved towards me again. “Beautiful,” he said.

Faster than a blink, he hovered over me, the head of his cock notched at my dripping wet entrance. I was glad I hadn’t worn panties because I would have ruined them. I dropped to my back, and his hands cupped my breasts, squeezing them and running his thumbs over my nipples, my back arching to push my small chest into his hands.

The kiss he gave me had me moaning and squirming in anticipation, ready for whatever came next. I wanted him. I wanted to feel him inside me, wanted all of my skin touching all of his skin.

His dick pulled away from my entrance, and his mouth swallowed my whine at the loss of his touch, but his hand moved down between us, his fingers playing in my slit. He groaned into my mouth, pleased at what he felt there, his thumb brushing once over my clit before sliding his hand back up my body, over my breasts, and up to my neck.

He put his cock back where it had been. Then he pulled his mouth away from mine, just enough to slip his fingers in and lick my juices off them.

I rolled my hips and moaned his name. “Wesley, please…” I begged, rubbing my pussy lips along his hard length. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

His hand came back to my neck, his thumb pushing my chin up to gain better access to my mouth. He punched his hips forward, sinking himself into my wet heat in one thrust.

I gasped and tried to catch my breath. The intensity of the fullness in my pussy and the pleasure of being joined with him was almost too much to bear. He paused, his breathing shallow too, his kisses switching from deep and passionate to small, sweet pecks as he waited for me to move or give him permission to move.

I rocked my hips against him, a signal to him I was ready for whatever he was about to give me. I wanted this more than I ever had.

“Haven,” he groaned as he pulled almost all the way out of me and then thrust himself back into me. “Oh… fuck, Haven, you feel so—” He groaned again and thrust harder, his eyes squeezing shut tight. “You feel so good.”

“Don’t stop, Wes,” I panted out, my body moving under his as he continued to thrust into me in long, slow, hard strokes, making me feel every inch of him as he took me for the first time.

My hands roamed over his entire body, feeling his muscles tremble and tighten as he fucked me, my eyes marveling at the beads of sweat trailing down his rock-solid abs. He was breathtaking. Beautiful. A fucking Greek god with his carved muscles and strong nose and jaw.

I pulled his face down to mine again, kissing him like my life depended on it. Our bodies pressed together, skin sliding against skin as Wesley continued his deep strokes, sending tingles, shivers, and pleasure all over my body.

All of it felt almost too good to be true. I had never felt pleasure like this, never experienced sex this intensely.

He lifted my leg, bending it at the knee and pressing it against my torso, trapping it there with his body so his hand could reach between us. He circled my clit with his finger, always coming just within reach of it but never touching it until I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Wes please!” I cried, raising my hips up and whining needily, my fingers digging into his back as I tried to pull him to me.

I felt and heard him chuckle, the sound vibrating to my soul, and he finally gave me what I wanted, what I needed.

His finger flicked at my clit, then he kept rubbing it in time with our movements, with his long, hard thrusts. My walls tightened, and I felt myself right on that edge, hovering, waiting for my body and my heart to give in to the full pleasure he gave me.

My movements and my noises became erratic and loud, and I cried out, clinging to Wes as my orgasm washed over me, sending ecstasy to every inch of me, stronger and purer than any orgasm I’d had before.

His answering grunts and shallow thrusts, followed by one long, loud groan, told me he’d finished too, his body twitching a few times through the aftershocks before he pulled out and collapsed on top of me, holding his weight off me, but covering me with his warmth.

His hands stroked my hair and face, his eyes holding everything he didn’t say out loud. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, using it to tell him everything my words couldn’t.

We stayed like that for a moment, soaking each other in and holding and caressing each other.

“Are you all right?” Wesley asked, lifting himself so he could see me better. “Did I hurt you?” he added, his thumb rubbing my cheek.

“No, not at all,” I replied, shaking my head. “I feel wonderful. That was perfect,” I told him.

“Are you tired? Or sore? Do you need to sleep?”

I shook my head again, lifting my torso so I could kiss him.

He pulled me up against his body as he sat back on his heels, placing my pussy on his already hard again dick. My eyes widened, surprised that he could be ready to go again.

“Good,” he rumbled out, his hand wrapping around my neck and his thumb stroking it. “Because we’re just getting started.”

I smiled and kissed him, sinking myself down onto his cock so we could start round two.