A Night With the Alpha

Night was always the time when everything happened. From dark supernatural forces roaming the world, to vampires lurking in every corner of the streets and most importantly, those who found pleasure in the nightlifes. Those whose only solace were clubs, bars, and joint houses.

And let's not forget, notorious gang members were said to enjoy prying on the weak at night out in the streets. In one word, the night harbored everything bad and evil; which was the gang members, vampires and demons. Only two out of those didn't exist in this world we live in except for the gang members of course. Let's face it, this was reality anyways.

The good part; was clubbing, the bars and good smoke joints and the underground dope houses for meth, heroine and whatnots. All of the above good things were my hobby. My favorites. I lived for that shit. Literally.

We were in the 21th century where rich aristocrats had infested the world and let's be honest, no one gave a fuck if some set of teenagers or grownups were out in the streets doing drugs. The only time you heard the 'you are a disgrace to your family' phrase was when said rich families had to scrape you off the streets because you had just tore a hole in their social—public lifestyle.

I digress,

I never gave two fucks though if my parents found out, I enjoyed what I enjoyed and candidly, they were never around to notice the big turnaround my life had gotten.

I digress again,

I was in one of the biggest clubs in the city, in my v–neck long sleeve tassel body con dress complemented with an eight inched heel. My face was caked in heavy makeup that made me look unrecognizable. The contours defining my cheekbones, the smoky eye and eyes lined like an egyptian goddess made me look like a real seductress.

my lips was painted in bright blood red color and my raven curly hair fell across my shoulders. I swayed my hips relentlessly on the dancefloor like a hooker waiting to be hitched for the night and fuck I was desperate.

Each nights was a night with a new guy for me. I found sex with the same guy over and over again shitty and time–wasting. Besides, once you fucked the same guy over and over again, they think you're something. In one word, I was never fond of encores.

Flipping my lashes up, my eyes clashed with a guy–well lots of guys who'd seemed to be checking me out. But the one who caught my attention was that particular one who had his head leaning on the cushion, his hair which I could only assume was black or brown from where I stood was tousled.

He wore a plaid shirt, skinny jeans and he had glasses on. Not the shades kinda glasses but the white lensed one. He had that typical–nerd look on. He was beautiful with a slight touch of manliness from afar.

He had that child-like—innocent —cute look on. Not the kind of cuteness that made you want to fuck him, no. The kind that made you want to cuddle him, stroke your fingers through his hair like a little child. He looked too innocent for a man, like a teenager who was attempting to loose his virginity to a hooker at a club in hopes of experiencing sex. But I wasn't going to be that girl.

Nope,

Absolutely no way.

Wanting the attention of someone who knew what they were doing, I turned away. I'd gotten the attention I'd needed, all eyes were on me now, including a particularly unwanted one so it was time to play card two.

With a few hip–wiggling tease, I halted my dancing and gracefully waltzed towards the bar. The part where all the thumping sounds of the blasting songs had muffled a bit.

"Two shots of tequila please," I ordered when I hopped on the stool. The bartender nodded in compliance to my order and began to make my drink. I twirled on the stool clanking my eight–inched heels against the iron.

"Mind if I keep you company?" The most beautiful manly voice I'd ever heard spoke and I twirled round on my seat to find the owner of the voice.

"Oh," I sighed, disappointed. It was nerdy. Up close he looked really gorgeous and manly with pecs and abs straining and bulging beneath the short sleeved shirt. 

His perfectly shaped brows creased as he scrutinized me under his gaze. He had chiseled jaws and nicely defined face with an all too straight nose. His eyes were something between brown and black I still couldn't make out the damn color under the multi–colored lighting of the club.

I turned back and the bartender pushed my drinks towards me with two slice of lime and a pinch of salt in a little plate.

"Not what you were expecting?" He asked, agitated.

He was beautiful and quite very manly for the whole nerdy thing he had going on. I mean, come on, i'd doubt if he knew what good sex meant, talk more, how to make a woman orgasm.

"I never said I was expecting anything," I fired back exasperatedly.

"Hmmm," he paused and looked at me for a few seconds, his gaze roaming my flushed face. "You think I'm not worth your time." he said calmly, as if deep in thoughts. He frowned again.

"Oh please, if you're looking for a girl to help you get the first time over with, I'm really not her. There are a lot of worthy cocks I'd rather ride tonight,"

He looked at me once again like he was studying me and I was starting to squirm under his excruciating gaze.

"Try me then. I'm worth the ride, I assure you."

I couldn't help but chuckle hysterically. He was so confident in his words.

This was so going to be fun,

"Okay then. Prove you're worthy. If you can, make me want you in five minutes,"

"I'll do it in one," he scoffed.

Cocky bastard,

"Fine then,"

He sighed and pulled a stool beside me, sitting on it. 

"Your flushed face say you're turned on already. Right from that very moment you started to dance, you were desperate. Desperate for a good fuck. want me to tell you more?" He rosed a brow.

I swallowed hard. Was he some sort of psychic? His bold words worked it's way into me, setting my insides ablaze. I was expecting him to touch me or make other advances but this was definitely not the way I thought he would go.

He hadn't even said anything worth turning me on! What the fuck was wrong with me?!

"Tell me," I breathed out.

He stared at my face that had gotten more flushed over the second and back to the thigh I was trying hard to not clench.

"You're hungry for attention. The moment you turned towards that side," he pointed to the direction were several gaze had been focused on me, "you were searching for that one person who would fulfill your dirty fantasies tonight, but trust me, no man would ever touch you like I would tonight." he ended brusquely.

Fuck!

He was too confident for my liking. He had to be really good, or bluffing. it made me want him to fuck me right there where he stood to find out. My whole body ached—ached to be touched. And a searing fire had ignited between my legs where heat had begun to pool. I clenched my thighs to find friction.

Wasn't he supposed to be a nerd?! Well, I concluded that being a nerd had nothing to do with the human anatomy.

The words he spoke were quite un–nerd like. He glanced at the watch on his wrist then to the thighs I had tightly clenched. His hands traveled to my thighs and I jolted surprised but relaxed. His calloused palm stroked my exposed knees. My breathing sped up and my heart raced in anticipation. I needed something, some sort of urgent relief for the fire he'd ignited and i didn't care if he finger fucked me in a club.

His hand parted my dress and torturously traveled up my thighs,

"Open," he ordered. 

I whimpered and docily parted my legs under his command. My whole body trembled and I wanted nothing more than to heed his commands.

His fingers slowly moved up my thighs and a needy moan excaped my lips when his fingers came in contact with the damp patch on my thong but he expertly avoided touching any hot buttons. 

"Aren't you dripping yet?" He asked as if his fingers touching the part of the thong were my moisture seeped through wasn't enough. He retracted his hand back and grabbed my already forgotten glass of tequila, squeezing the lemon into his mouth he downed the tequila. His eyes were cold and calculating and he looked at me with no emotion visible in his face.

It was like he'd been doing this for a long time. Like he was born to make women scream his name. Which I knew not yet—his name.

"Fuck me," I groaned out.