The Alpha’s Christmas Possession

Chapter 1 Amara’s POV “f**k me Richard! Ahhhhh" I whimpered and moaned at my boyfriend as he drove the tip of his c**k in and out of my p***y. “Go deeper, go deeper, deeper, ahhh, yes, just like that, faster," I moaned as he went on, his c**k slamming in and out of my c**t as one of his fingers worked round circles on the nape of my wet p***y as he slammed himself in and out. I felt goosebumps as he kept slamming his c**k head into me, my moans mingling with his grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin that filled the room. I reached out to Richard’s neck and held him as we stared at each other due to the missionary position he was having me in. At his oval face, his chiseled jaws and his nose accentuated his looks. There was nothing in him that wasn't handsome. Saying he was basic itself would be an understatement, as there was no relation of that to him. “Kiss me,” I whispered as he moved on top of me. But even though I had commanded him to kiss me, I didn’t wait for him to lean in or take the lead. I didn’t give him the chance as I knew he wouldn't. He would find an excuse or other not to, and I wasn't ready for his whining. I captured his lips in a hot, desperate kiss, hungrily claiming his mouth at once, as if that was the only thing that mattered in the world. I kissed him greedily, almost fiercely, as if I was sharing him with someone even though I wasn’t, even though I knew he was mine and mine alone. Richard was my boyfriend. My man. A reserved, steady soul who had never given me a reason to doubt his loyalty in all the four years I had dated him. Richard was the only man I had ever loved deeply enough to picture a future with, the only man whose marriage proposal I knew without hesitation and, without thinking twice, I would accept in a heartbeat. He was everything. Everything I had ever wanted in a man and even more than I knew I could ask for. Kind, loving, caring, tender in a way that felt intentional. Passionate in a way that always made me feel chosen. Richard embodied what I believed the perfect husband should be; stable, loyal and devoted. The kind of man who was almost impossible to find in this generation, yet somehow, he was mine. I clasped his back with my legs as I stretched myself further beneath him, giving him enough space, no, giving him an invitation to thrust himself in and out of me. To take me completely. To remind me again that this man was the one I had tied my heart to, the one I had anchored my life around. A research biologist constantly pushing forward and whose career we had both been building for years. Once Richard made it and once he got the breakthrough he’d been working tirelessly toward, everything would fall into place. Marriage, stability, a life we had planned in whispers and in dreams. He had been hustling for both of us, sacrificing so much to create the future we talked about. And I had been playing my part the only way I knew, supporting him by writing all his research papers, making sure every submission he sent to big companies was flawless, knowing that with just one acceptance, just one opportunity, he would finally be seen the way he deserved. And tonight, wrapped beneath him, with his breath mixing with mine and his body fitting so perfectly against me, I believed in us more than ever. “I'm about to c*m, Amara," he whispered in my ears as he thrust himself in and out of me faster. I could feel his legs shaking as he did and could tell that he truly was about to release his load. I got up and maneuvered him to be on the bed. It hadn't even been up to five minutes since we began having s*x, and he was already about to c*m. I wasn't near orgasm nor halfway to my own release. I couldn't let him keep on thrusting into me as I knew that the second he would c*m, my own pleasure would be secondary to him, and he wouldn't care anymore. “What are you doing?” he asked as he held onto my waist, thinking that I was about to disengage from him or prevent him from reaching his maximum pleasure. I straddled my legs on him as I began to bounce up and down his c**k, turning and grinding myself in circles, so his c**k could reach crevices that I otherwise wouldn't be able to reach alone. I went on, humping and thumping, as fast as I could, ignoring Richard's words of being tired, as they weren't what I wanted to hear. He was always like that, but for this once, I only wanted to derive my own pleasure too. He was tired because he was already satisfied, but that was what always happened each time we had s*x. He was always tired. Always tired to help me reach orgasm, so now I let myself take control. “Amara, you should stop. I’m already tired,” Richard whispered, and I had to pause as I climbed off him. I didn’t say anything, though my eyes betrayed the dissatisfaction curling inside me. He hadn’t noticed. He had already come and the evidence clear on the head of his c**k. I remained silent as I watched him climb out of bed, assuming he was probably stretching, maybe preparing for a second round. I had hoped he would grant me that, but when I noticed him putting on his clothes, a chill ran through me. Something felt off. “Are you going somewhere?” I asked, my voice steady but laced with unease as I stared at him. His boxers now fully covered him, and the precum glistening atop it only made the sight feel sharper, like a reminder of the intimacy we had just shared, now abruptly interrupted. “Yes, I am, Amara. I have numerous business deals I need to close rather than waste my time here with you,” he said, his eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. He twitched his lips in displeasure, showing the irritation I had somehow caused by taking more time than he had allotted for me. Just as he had said before, my needs, my time, were secondary. I swallowed hard, trying to push down the sting in my chest. His words left a bitter taste, but I reminded myself that Richard was always busy and striving for our future. My own work, ghostwriting, felt small in comparison and I knew there were only so many jobs I could take at once. “By what time would you be returning from work today?” I asked, reaching for my own clothes. My voice was quiet, almost hesitant, because I knew he would be leaving the house and I had no reason to stay behind with him. I never had. “I’m not returning today, Amara. It might be weeks before I am back. The business deal I am about to close is crucial to the growth of my company,” he whispered, his tone sharp, as if I should have understood the gravity of his absence without needing to ask. “Would you return early to spend Christmas with me? You promised to do so this year. Since we started dating, you’ve never—” I began, my voice soft but tinged with hope, only to be cut off by him raising a finger in silence. “Not now, Amara. I have a contract to close as we speak. I do not have time for your whining,” he said, dismissing me entirely. His words struck me harder than I expected. He made it sound as if the company, the contracts and future were his alone, and I was merely a bystander. All the years I had spent supporting him, writing his research papers, ensuring his ideas reached the highest bidders, all of that counted for nothing at that moment. My feelings, my needs, my longing to be valued, he had dismissed them entirely. He hadn’t even acknowledged Christmas, a celebration I had wanted to share with him. Every year, he had promised we would spend it together. Every year, it was never fulfilled. And now, hearing him dismiss me so coldly, I couldn’t shake the chilling thought that this year, too, I would spend the holiday alone. Utterly alone. My mother had been in a coma for years following her accident and cancer diagnosis, leaving me with no family nearby to lean on. As I watched Richard leave without a single forehead kiss, without a wave, without any affection other than his command to lock the house before I left, a storm of questions tore through me. Where did I stand in his life? Was I truly the partner I had convinced myself I was, or merely an accessory to his ambitions, a shadow behind his success? I felt my chest tighten, my throat raw with unsaid words, my heart aching at the quiet distance he had placed between us in mere moments. And as the door clicked shut behind him, I was left staring at the empty room, the weight of solitude pressing down harder than ever before.