The ultra alpha male. The guy who pretty much just takes what he wants and when he wants, to hell with the consequences. He’s the fireman, the soldier, the Greek tycoon seducing his born-again-virgin secretary. He’s all over the place, and some readers just can’t get enough. * Stands up and raises hands * Count me in as one of them! Now I’ve written and read beta heroes as well for some diversity, and if done right they can be just as swoon-worthy. But most of the time I prefer them alpha. There’s something about just letting a guy take charge…. right, sorry, drifted for a moment there.
But seriously, in real life, would we date these guys? I’m sorry, but any guy that tells me that I can’t go out with the girls wearing a sexy little dress is going to get the look of death from me. So while I prefer reading about these alphas, I’m not so sure I could ever date one in real life.
Anyway, here’s an excerpt from my book Take Me, which is out recently from Kensington Aphrodisia. Leave a comment and tell me whether you prefer to keep your Alpha fantasizing in the books/movies, or stretch it over to real life. I’ll draw one winner to receive a copy of this book!
She stumbled to the middle of the chamber, swinging around to face him. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the fabric. “You need to explain.”
A predatory smile crossed his face and he reached for the tie around his neck. “I don’t need to explain anything, princess.”
His voice was cold, not even a trace of the accent. Who was he? A shiver ran down her spine and she took a few steps backwards.
He pulled off his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor. “Take off your dress.”
Her pulse slowed and then accelerated right back up into double time. The heat that spread throughout her brought a flush to her body.
She ran her tongue across her lips. “No. I will not.”
“Agreeable indeed.” He raised an eyebrow. “All right. If you will not remove it, then I will do so for you.”
He lunged and her scream reverberated through the chamber. Her dress ripped as he caught the hem and jerked.
“No!” She twisted away, causing the dress to split halfway up her hip.
He jerked hard on the fabric he held in his fist, catching her off balance and sending her sprawling to the
“Barbarian!” she screamed trying to scurry away.
He fell to his knees and straddled her, grabbing her wrists in one hand and forcing them above her head.
With his other hand free, he grabbed the bodice of her dress and ripped hard. Her breasts spilled free and she closed her eyes with a groan.
The room went quiet, with only the sounds of their ragged breathing to break the silence.
“By gods, Talia,” he rasped. “You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
She shook her head and tugged at her wrists. She tried to hold onto the anger inside her, but there was a more dominant emotion fighting to take hold. Hot fire spread through her body, locking the breath in her throat and hardening her nipples.
“Oh gods. This makes no sense,” she confessed huskily. “I should not want this.”
His eyes darkened. “But you do.” The calloused pad of his thumb smoothed over one nipple and she gasped, heat moving between her legs. “You do, princess.”
He lowered his head and nuzzled her throat, kissed the pulse that beat there before sliding up toward her ear. His palm, wide and rough, cupped her breast. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit gently.
Talia’s hips arched off the floor, a guttural cry escaping past her lips. It was back, this strange heat and almost drunken state of arousal she got when he got near her.
He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. Another tremble rocked through her body and hot cream gathered in her pussy.
“I can smell your desire for me.” His fingers moved between her legs and rubbed lightly between the folds—the sensation so intense the muscles of her cunt clenched. “Unfortunately, fucking you will have to wait.”
“I…I don’t understand.” She squirmed, desperate with the need for him to press his fingers inside her.
His lips moved against her ear, his words just a whisper. “My name’s not Alan.”
The odd response brought her up from the thick depths of desire. “W-what?”
His hand moved away from her pussy and slid over to wrap around her right thigh. His expression turned somber, hard. “I’m sorry, princess.”
She saw the flash of the needle, just before it swung down and jabbed painfully into her thigh.
“No!” She struggled again, panic slicing through the fog of desire, but it was too late. Her flesh burned from whatever he was injecting into her.
Oh Gods! What had he just done? She struggled harder, managing to free one wrist because of the terror—induced adrenaline.
“Hold still.” He recaptured her wrist and held her down, kissing the tears that rolled down her cheek. “Just relax.”
She shook her head, but the movement made her dizzy. The lights above her head left tracers. Opening her mouth to speak, she found her tongue thick and the words stuck in her throat. Why? Why had he done it?
“That’s it, princess. Close your eyes,” he whispered and smoothed his thumb over her lips.
Her eyelids grew heavy, too heavy, and finally she closed them, almost certain she would never wake up.