They're character can end up taking a back seat to the alpha male they share their book with. It's a question of balance and too often the scales are top heavy. His dominance undermines her quiet determination. His strength and power overwhelms her self discipline... and in bed she's there to be taught, led, showed... when really she should be an equal participant. I'm not saying it's all bad - we all like to be dominated from time to time - but I just think there should be balance. More emphasis should be put on her strengths - what is it that draws this strong, self contained man to her? What makes her special?
I like the alpha males I read but I want the female protagonist to be his equal. I recently wrote the Rules series and there is one sex scene in that serial novel that literally made my day to write. It was a moment when Aurora took control of her own powerful alpha. Any woman can be the girl that an alpha male screws but there are very few he'd trust to take the reigns and lead the way. There's something romantic in the idea of balance and equality. To top it all I want to give my readers a heroine they can aspire to be, not a woman they can forget.
Here's an excerpt from the Rules series. If you fancy reading the whole series, all you have to do is sign up to my mailing list and it'll be yours for free.
I make my way up the stairs to a part of the apartment that was less often used. The door to his study is open. His back is to me as he stands looking out the window, speaking into his mobile. The muscles in his back are tense and I can tell from his posture that all his focus is on his work. He hasn’t noticed me yet. I love the moments where I can watch him unnoticed; he’s a sight to behold, like a thunderstorm on the beach, commanding and devastating in his ability to take control of everything around him including me. “Make sure Catherine has everything organised for tomorrow’s interviews,” Landon is saying authoritatively. His dark grey suit fits him perfectly; probably Armani. Most of his suits are Armani. His navy tie is slung over the back of the chair behind his desk. The sight of it there makes me blush. I’d chosen that tie this morning. I’d chosen it, imagining him coming home and tying me to the bed with it so that he could fuck me into oblivion. The memory tickles me. He turns to face me, gives me a blinding smile, the sort that very rarely makes it onto his face. They are reserved for me and me alone. I’ve seen the smiles he shares with others; they are nothing by comparison. They are an extension of the corporate mask that’s usually painted on his face, instead of the pure happiness that he gives me in his smile. They are like weak interpretations of a natural Italian speaker or a poor imitation of a oil paint masterpiece. He continues his conversation with his assistant, his eyes focused solely on me. The tension in his shoulders is gone, “and Lisa, cancel my six o’clock for tomorrow. Make reservations at Thorpe’s; I’m taking Aurora out for dinner instead. I’ve been neglecting her.”
I shake my head; silently telling him I understand that he’s been busy with work, but the granite look in his greyish green eyes tell me it’s none negotiable. He’s missed me too. His eyes don’t leave mine as he finishes his call. He doesn’t so much as take a step towards me as he puts his phone down on his desk quietly. His actions are so precise and controlled and I’m in awe because when I’m near him all my control disappears. The top two button of his Ralph Lauren shirt are undone and his dark brown hair is slightly dishevelled from the countless times he’ll have run his hands through it in frustration throughout the day. That thought alone is enough to make me want to jump him. I want my hands in his hair as he’s kissing my neck and plunging his cock into me. But I stand perfectly still; I don’t want to break the connection we have in this moment. I want him to make the first move. I can barely breathe with the anticipation that’s running through my veins. I’m already wet, just from the thought of him inside me; the thought of him dominating my body the way he dominates everything else in his world. “Hi,” he says quietly at last, it doesn’t break the tension; in fact that one word seems to just sit on top of the sizzling electricity and hover in the air between us.
“Hi,” I reply hoarsely. I’m still stood in the doorway of his study, greedily taking in the sight of him in all his masculine glory. I want this man more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
He’s across the room in seconds and I’m in his arms. “I’ve missed you,” he growls before lowering his mouth to mine, kissing me with a passion I’d never known existed before Landon.
“You saw me this morning,” I laugh breathlessly, secretly revelling in his words. I love knowing that I affect him as much as he affects me.
“It’s not enough,” I know what he means. It’s never enough. I could spend every waking moment of my day with Landon and it still wouldn’t satisfy the thirst and hunger I have for him. He lifts me up and pulls my legs around him before slamming the door to his study shut behind me. Next thing I know, he has me pressed against it, his erection pulsing against my core. He pulls my skirt up around my waist and smirks at me. “I’ve wanted this all day, ever since I saw you get dressed this morning.”
He’d stood in the doorway of our bedroom watching as I dressed. He’d already been up for an hour or so, working in his home study, before bringing me breakfast in bed at half six. He’d made love to me after breakfast and then we’d gone for a run together before he’d fucked me again in the shower. Over the last month we’d become quite the domestic pair; something neither one of us had expected when we’d first seen each other across the bar at The Kent Mockery last month. He’d dressed whilst I put my make up on and sorted out my hair, before watching as I put on my clothes. I’d sat on the bed, pulling up my stockings, watching him watch me. Before meeting Landon, I’d never have thought getting dressed could be such a turn on but now seeing the way he reacted to my every move was empowering. He’d been hard watching me dress and I’d felt a sense of accomplishment because I was solely responsible for the stiffness of his cock and the raging desire in his eyes.
My hands are in his hair as he bites my neck gently, “I want you,” I moan.
“I know baby,” he’s chuckling, my underwear is pushed aside, his fingers on my pussy, “I can feel how wet you are for me.” His words send a blush to my cheeks.
“Only you...” I whisper. I need him to know that only he has ever affected me this way; only he can make me so wanton with need and longing. Then again I think he knows that better than anyone.
“Only ever me baby,” the look in his eyes is intense. He means exactly what he’s saying. I find it unbelievable that a few short weeks ago I’d thought he was unreadable. Now I think I understand every raised eyebrow, every quirk of his lip, every smirk.
I love the feel of his fingers inside of me but it’s not enough. I need all of him. I’ve needed this all day; thought about it during my lectures this morning and struggled to teach my classes this afternoon. I’m studying to become an English teacher and its hard work at the best of times, but it’s even more so when I can’t concentrate on anything except the thought of Landon. “Please,” I’m begging him but it doesn’t embarrass me. He’s the only man I’ll ever beg; the only man I’ll surrender control to.
“What do you need angel?” his voice is rumbling and deep. He’s in control. He’s always in control. He’s perhaps the most controlled person I know. That dominating control is what makes him so successful and it’s a huge part of what makes him so fucking hot.
“You...” Before meeting Landon I don’t think I’d ever have been so comfortable articulating what I want, “I want you to fuck me against this door.” Hell a couple of months ago I wouldn’t have even said the word fuck.
“You want me to fuck you hard?” he asks. He always asks. He likes to hear me say it. He loves the idea that he’s corrupted an angel. I’m not an angel. I’m not perfect; but there’s no telling him that. It scares me a bit that one day he’s going to work it out and then I can’t help but wonder what he’ll see in me. What will he see in me when he realises that I’m just Aurora and I don’t have wings.
I grind my core against his hardness, “please,” I don’t want to wait. I’m not sure I even could if I wanted to. I need him inside me.
“Aurora, baby,” he’s whispering in my ear as he undoes his fly and releases himself from the confines of his trousers. He enters me quickly, finding his rhythm as he pounds into me, “bloody hell Aurora... you’re fucking perfect.”
I’m moaning loudly. If anyone else could hear us, I’d be blushing, but with Landon I’m not embarrassed. He takes me to places I’ve never been before. My toes are curling and I can feel my control flagging. This is what he does to me. “Give it to me,” he demands, “let it go.” He knows me so well. His words are all I need to give up the control I feel I need to cling onto.
I orgasm violently, shouting his name before biting down on his shoulder as I feel my walls pulsing around his cock. Our eyes meet. His hand clasps mine beside my head and I feel his release deep within me as I come down from the height of orgasm. I love the intimacy we share. He’s breathing hard and I can tell from the feel of him inside me he’s still rigid as fuck. He’s not finished. Then again Landon rarely ever is. There’s always more. I plant my feet on the ground. I put my hands on his chest and push him back across the room until he’s sat in his chair behind his desk. He’s a sight for sore eyes; sat there with his legs slightly apart, his cock standing to attention through the fly of his trousers. He’s chuckling at me. His expression tells me he’s humouring me. He could just pick me up and fuck me over his desk but he wants to see what I have in mind. He wants to play my game. “Do you trust me?” I ask him. It’s a question he’s asked me countless times. It’s usually the precursor to our best shags.
“Always,” his response is automatic. There’s no question at all to its truthfulness. His tone is steady and his eyes tell me everything I need to know. He’s never trusted anyone else the way he trusts me. I’m his angel; the only one who gets to see him lose control, the only one who can get him to break the rules.
I take his tie from where it hangs behind his head over the back of the chair and swivel his chair around so he’s facing the wall, away from me. The loss of his gaze on me is almost physically painful. I lean over the back of the chair and put my hand through the gap in his shirt, feeling his firm chest beneath, kissing his cheek sweetly before taking his hands and pulling them behind his back, “lean forward baby,” I tell him and I’m surprised by how authoritative I sound.
He does as I say and although I can’t see his face I know he’s amused. “I think you’re confused, lovely angel... it’s me who usually ties you up,” his voice is gravelly; it’s taking all his control not to just fuck me over the desk and it’s taking all of mine not to just let him.
When his hands are tied, I turn the chair back around, so that I can see his face. I want to see him lose control. It still amazes me that I get to see this powerful man lose control on a daily basis. He’s not the sort of man to lose control. He had more rules than I did when we first met. He had rules for business, rules for dealing with his family, rules for dating and definitely rules for sex. He growls as I step back, pulling away from him. He doesn’t want to lose the connection we have. He needs to feel my touch as much as I need his. I step out of my heels before pulling my grey top over my head. When I look back at him, his eyes are dark with desire as they rake over my body. I undo the zip on my skirt and allow it to fall to the ground. I love how sexy he makes me feel as he allows his eyes to take in every inch of my skin. I perch on his desk as I roll my stockings down my legs and remove my bra. I drop my right hand to my breast, cupping it gently before playing with my nipple, “I wish you were touching me.” It reminds me of the first time he tied me up, how I’d told him I wanted to touch him. He’d told me I was touching him as his hands roamed over my flesh. We’d come a long way since that first night in this apartment.
“If you untie me I can,” his reply is unrestrained. He’s regretting agreeing to play my game. He wants to take what’s his, but it’s just outside of reach. I’m just out of his reach and it’s frustrating him. I stand back to my feet and shimmy out of my black lace panties before running a finger through my folds; teasing myself as much as I’m teasing him.
I sit astride his lap, making sure not to touch his hard on, not yet. He lifts his hips searching for friction, “not fair,” His complaint is scratchy with irritation and desire rolling into one.
I chuckle, looking him in the eye as I undo his shirt, taking my time with his buttons. I lick and kiss his skin as I expose it, biting down occasionally. I suddenly push down on his erection, causing him to hiss, as he thrusts his hips up in response. I’ve teased us both enough. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. The feel of his cock against my core, skin on skin, almost makes me change my mind but I want him in my mouth first. “Too slow, Aurora,” he protests.
“Oh darling,” I say in my sweetest voice, “I thought the anticipation only makes it better?”
Landon curses under his breath; hating that I’m using his own game against him, “shit.” I allow myself to drop to my knees on the floor in front of him, as I pull his trousers down further, so they’re around his knees, before I’m grasping his cock in my hands as I stare into his eyes. “Fuck; you’re beautiful like that Aurora,” he struggles to get the words out amidst his groans of unadulterated pleasure.
I lick the tip before licking my lips. He’s watching me with a concentration that exceeds the attention he gives everything but me. Only me. Only ever me. I lick the underside, tickling him softly before taking him fully into my mouth. He tries to regain control with the thrust of his hips but I hold him down with my hands on his thighs as I bob my head up and down, humming on his dick. I take him as far back in my throat as I can as I allow my hands to explore the body I’ve claimed as my own. The thrusts of his hips are frantic now; his control gone. He’s going to come and I’m going to swallow every drop.
“Aurora,” he groans. I use my hands on his balls and feel them spasm in my grasp before his come is squirting down my throat. I keep going until his violent orgasm completely stops. As I release him from my mouth, I look up at him, with a cheeky grin. There’s come on my lips, I run a finger across them collecting it before licking my finger. I sit back on my heels and watch as he catches his breath. “Are you going to untie me now?” his eyebrow is raised and I know the second I untie him he’ll push me down on the desk and fuck me roughly and as much as I want that, I don’t want it yet.
I shake my head and climb onto his lap, straddling him. I pick up his cock, it’s already hardening again. “Yes angel... put me inside you... that’s it,” his eyes don’t leave mine as I push down on his dick, my walls enclosing him in my heat. I lean into him; chest to chest as I slowly pull all the way off him before plunging back down again. It’s slow, almost too slow, when I feel so frantic with need but I love the way I can feel every inch of him inside me. Taking it slow seems to only intensify the way it feels, the pressure building gradually as we move together in a dance that’s primitive and decadent. I’m basking in the glory that is Landon Peters. We stare at each other and all the words we don’t usually say are said in the look we share in that moment. Just as I feel my orgasm approach, I reach back and undo his tie, releasing his hands from their snare. I need his hands on me. I need his touch. He roars in triumph as he gets to his feet and pushes me down on the desk.
“Fuck I love you, angel,” he says as he fucks me into his desk. What a moment ago was sweet and almost torturously slow is now hot, sticky and definitely fast. His eyes are demanding, he wants me to come and he wants me to come now. “I’ll never have enough of you.”
“And I’ll always need more of you,” I reply earnestly, telling him I understand completely. The feeling is mutual.
We come together in this perfect dance of passion and control. It’s everything I want and everything I can ever imagine needing.