I lower my head and purr, a long, low, angry purr that rips out from inside and folds over her.
Her gaze widens. The scent of her arousal intensifies. Her arm trembles and her grip on the lamp loosens.
I smash my head into the lamp and send it flying from her hands. It falls on the bed, then rolls to the floor and crashes. The sound doesn’t penetrate the haze of the heat cycle that has her in its grasp.
Yanking her hand above her head, I wrap my fingers around both her delicate wrists. With my free hand, I reach down between us, scoop up some of our joined juices, my cum, her slick, a mixture that is pure aphrodisiac, and wipe her lips with it before shoving my finger inside her mouth.
Her lips curve around it, and she sucks on it. The feel of her lips on my skin dumps a wave of adrenaline into my blood; mixed with it is this primal need to finish what I started.
I move inside her, this time only with intent to punish. She mewls then cries out as I slam inside her all the way and let myself come again, coating her insides with hot, ropy streams of cum. Marking her inside and out.
“Mine,” I growl.
Her eyelids fly open. Dark, fevered eyes stare back at me. The black of her pupils have completely taken over the green—the sign of an omega having completely submitted to her heat cycle. She bares her teeth.
I expect her to attack me again, or at the very least scream at me to get off of her, when, “More,” she snarls and digs her heels into my back.
I freeze. Did I hear that correctly?
Her eyes narrow, then she raises her hips so I slide deeper inside—the swollen head of my cock brushes against her cervix.
She cries out, color draining from her cheeks. Her eyes plead with me. Her lips seduce me, and I can’t stop myself. I take her lips and close my mouth over hers, fucking her with my tongue as much as my erect shaft penetrates her the way neither has ever pierced anyone else before.
The climax builds up from my groin, tightening, stretching, becoming big enough to overpower every part of me, plowing through me.
Her body shudders, and her teeth bite down on my lips as she falls apart.
I stay as I am, still half erect inside her.
She cracks her eyelids open and peers up at me.
I want to ask her why she tried to kill me—well, I know the answer why: she hates me. There’s not much she can do about it, though. I claimed her as mine; she is my mate.
Her hips move of their own accord, her breath catches, and her lips turn downward. She rakes her nails down my biceps before clasping her fingers around my forearm.
I lean in and blow over her flushed face.
It’s hot inside this room. Not only is it the height of summer, but I’ve nailed tight all the windows. I don’t want the exterior of this city intruding and polluting the atmosphere inside.
Sweat drips down my chest. A drop plops on her breast, then another. Her gaze veers to my chest, to where my shaft is still locked inside her.
The sight arouses me again.
I move against her, and she croaks, a harsh sound. Her eyes fly open, and her gaze locks with mine. The dark of her irises deepens.
I am hurting her but also arousing her. And that pleases me immeasurably. The glow of satisfaction flushes my skin, and I don’t question it. It doesn’t matter to me that she gets as much pleasure from our coupling as I do. It doesn’t.
I lean in and lick the bleeding wound on her shoulder.
She shudders, and a moan of pleasure is drawn from her.
I growl, a low, soothing purr, and her shoulders relax. Her thighs clench around my waist; the scent of slick deepens the air.
I want to hear her voice calling my name as she comes once again, as she rides my cock and her core shatters around me.
Still knotted inside her, I flip her over and above me.
14
Lucy
He flips me over so I am straddling him.
His knot is still heavy inside me, weighing me down, blocking all the cum that has streamed out of him.
The thought only makes me hotter. Desire ripples down my spine.
A low purr rumbles from his throat, stretching in the space between us. My stomach cramps, and I groan.
Inside me he grows bigger, and his knot flexes. Every part of me aches, and yet there is still this hunger. An emptiness that seems to grow bigger by the second, filling me, making me feel like I am searching, yearning for something more.
So much more. Of him. Of me. Of what he can do to me. Of what I want him to do to me. The force of my thoughts sends heat shooting through my blood. I bend down and hook my fingers in his hair, raking my nails down his scalp.
His shoulders flex. Red streaks his cheekbones. He growls again, but this time it has a tone of challenge laced through it.
His nostrils flare.
His gaze narrows.
He grips my waist and raises me, all the way up, until his shaft slips out and I stay poised right there with his knot blocking the entrance to my wet channel.
The feel of that roughened, ribbed skin against my soft inner walls sends a pulse of heat scrambling over my skin.
My toes curl; my thighs flex as I grip his waist. The feeling is so erotic, so much everything that starbursts of color flash behind my closed eyelids. I sway a little, and his grip firms on me.
“Look at me,” he growls.
The command in his voice cuts through the intense feelings that have me in thrall.
I crack my eyelids open and meet his gaze—and hold on to that liquid blue in his eyes that seems to mirror back every last fragment of lust that I am feeling now.
It’s as if he can read me, see through my soul, and I know I am being fanciful. Because he is an alpha who wants to show me that he is more superior, more dominant, yet my instinct says there is more, so much more to this man.
Right?
Wrong.
Was that why he’d dragged me here to his room and proceeded to bury his cock in me? His very large, very beautiful cock which he lowers me on again so the knot locks into place, holding me to him.
There’s a low keening cry, and I realize it’s me. I sound so aroused. So needy. Hungry for more. My chest pushes forward, my breasts thrusting out. I know my nipples are swollen, and my hair flows around me as I hold on to his forearms for balance.
The alpha is so damn massive, and the way he raises and lowers me again and again… And I am small, of course, in comparison. Still, the fact that he handles my body like I weigh nothing is both erotic and at the same time it makes me realize how much more powerful, how dominant he is.
A shudder of fear tugs at my nerves.
The still barely thinking part of my hindbrain, the one I’ve relied on to flag danger in all the time I’d been on the run from my homeland, sends a pulse of warning that creeps into my blood. It shoves away the sheer need that grips my body, that has pushed away all rational thought so far.
His hardness throbs inside me. Need radiates out from my core all the way to my toes.
And it feels so damn good.
I moan. Then shake my head, trying to clear it.
As if realizing that I am fighting the high of mating, and not wanting me to regain my composure, as if his very goal is to enfold me in the waves of pleasure which seize me, which roll down my spine, and make me hunch my back to try to keep in every last drop of moisture that is oozing out of me, he slides an arm up my back and grips the nape of my neck.
His touch sends a wave of intense desire surging through me. Sweat trickles down my throat, and my hair sticks to my forehead.