"So romantic," she says, but her legs wrap around my waist in clear invitation.
I drive forward, burying both cocks to the hilt in one thrust. She's so wet from her multiple orgasms that the penetration is smooth despite the overwhelming stretch. Her pussy and ass clench around me, still oversensitive from my mouth.
"Fuck," she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. "So full. Always so fucking full of you."
"Language," I growl, even as I start moving with hard, claiming thrusts.
"You're a hypocrite," she manages between moans. "You curse all the—oh god, right there!"
I hit the angle that makes her see stars and focus there, driving against that spot with ruthless precision. "I'm the alpha. I can do whatever I want."
"That's not—" Her protest dissolves into incoherent pleasure as I adjust my angle slightly, hitting both her deepest spots simultaneously.
"Not what?" I ask, my voice rough with exertion and arousal. "Not fair? I already told you I never promised fair."
She can't form words anymore, reduced to helpless moans and gasps as I claim her thoroughly. This is different from yesterday's desperate reclaiming—this is assured dominance. The comfortable authority of an alpha who knows his omega isn't going anywhere.
"Mine," I growl, feeling my knots beginning to swell. "Say it."
"Yours," she sobs. "Always yours. Even when I hate you, even when I love you, always fucking yours."
The declaration combined with her inner walls clenching around me triggers my release. But this time, I don't just let it happen—I make it a claiming. Biting down on her mating mark as my knots lock us together, flooding her with my seed while she screams through another orgasm.
The bond explodes between us, golden light mixing with ice-blue magic until they're indistinguishable. The preservation magic activates, but instead of documenting coldly, it wraps around us like a cocoon. Recording not just the physical joining, but the emotional truth underneath it.
We belong to each other now. Not because I forced it, but because we both choose it.
When the intensity fades, we're locked together as thoroughly as ever. My knots won't release for hours, my seed flooding her in endless pulses. But unlike yesterday, there's no desperation in it. Just the deep satisfaction of claiming what's mine.
"I love you," I murmur against her throat.
"I love you too," she responds, her hands stroking down my back. "Even though you're a sadistic bastard who made me come four times before you'd fuck me."
"Five," I correct, feeling smug. "You came five times."
"Show off." But she's smiling, content despite her complaint.
We lie there in comfortable silence, our bond humming between us. The heat is manageable now—present but not controlling her. She can think clearly, feel deeply, choose consciously while still being driven by her omega nature.
It's the balance I should have created from the beginning.
"What are you thinking?" she asks after a while.
"That I wasted a lot of time trying to make you a perfect omega instead of appreciating the perfect mate you already were."
She's quiet for a moment, digesting this. "You really believe that now? That I was already perfect?"
"You were perfectly yourself," I clarify. "Which was exactly what I needed, even if I was too stupid to see it."
"You weren't stupid." Her fingers trace patterns on my skin. "You were six hundred years old and set in your ways. It's actually impressive that you managed to change at all."
"You give me too much credit."
"Someone has to, since you're always brooding about your failures." She shifts slightly, gasping as the movement makes my knots throb inside her. "Fuck, that's good."
"Language, omega."
"Make me stop," she challenges.
