Keeps fucking me through it, keeps working his cock in and out of my spasming cunt, keeps working his thumb against my clit, keeps dragging out the pleasure until tears are streaming down my face and I can't tell where one orgasm ends and the next begins. It's too much—too intense, too good, too everything—and I'm sobbing against him now, completely overwhelmed, clawing at any part of him I can reach.
"That's it," he growls against my temple, his voice wrecked beyond recognition. "That's it, fuck, you feel so good when you come—so tight around my cock, squeezing me so fucking hard?—"
The words push me higher. Another peak cresting before the last one has faded, my body a live wire sparking everywhere he touches.
"I can feel it through the bond," he pants, his rhythm growing erratic, his hips stuttering. "Feel how good my cock feels inside you. Feel you falling apart every time I fuck into you. You have no idea what that does to me?—"
"Show me," I gasp. "Stop talking and show me?—"
He shows me.
His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise bone, tilting me up, changing the angle so his cock is even deeper somehow, hitting places inside me I didn't know existed. I'm making sounds I don't recognize—high and desperate and broken—and I don't care, don't care about anything except the feeling of him thick and hot and moving inside me, the drag of his cock against every sensitive spot, the way he fills me so completely there's no room for anything else.
I feel the knot starting to form. The swelling at the base of his cock catching on my entrance with each thrust, stretching me wider, forcing my body to make room for even more of him.
"Kess—" His voice breaks on my name. "I'm going to—the knot—if you don't want?—"
"Give it to me." I drag his mouth down to mine, bite his bottom lip until I taste blood. "I want it. Want your knot inside me, want you to fill me until I can't think, can't move, can't do anything but take your cock and your cum?—"
He makes a sound that's pure animal—raw and desperate and utterly undone.
The knot catches on my entrance. Stretches me impossibly wide, wider than I can stand, the base of his cock so thick now I don't know how my body will take it, and I'm keening against his mouth because it's too much, I can't, I can't?—
Then it pushes inside and everything goes white.
The orgasm that hits me is nothing like the others. This is complete. Total. Absolute. I feel it in my bones, in my teeth, in the roots of my hair. My whole body convulses around him as the knot swells to full size inside me, locking us together, his cock sealed so deep that I don't know where I end and he begins.
He roars above me—a sound that shakes the walls, that vibrates through my chest, that sounds like it's being torn from somewhere ancient and primal.
I feel every pulse of his cock as he comes. Hot and endless, flooding me in waves, filling me until I'm sure I can't hold any more but my body just makes room, takes every drop of cum he gives and demands more. The knot keeps everything sealed inside, keeps his cock locked deep in my cunt, and each throb of it against my inner walls triggers another aftershock of pleasure that makes me cry out.
It goes on forever. Or maybe only minutes. I lose track of time, lose track of everything except the feeling of being full—finally, completely, impossibly full of his cock and his cum andhim—and the weight of him on top of me, inside me, everywhere.
When the world finally stops spinning, I'm lying on my back with him collapsed on top of me, still locked together by the knot that shows no signs of going down. His face is buried in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. My legs are still wrapped around his waist, my hands still clutching at his back where I've left long bloody furrows in his skin.
His arms shift, wrapping around me, pulling me closer against his chest. The knot shifts with the movement andwe both make sounds—overwhelmed, oversensitive, completely undone.
"Sorry," he murmurs against my hair. "Too much?"
"Shut up." There's no heat in it. I'm too wrung out for heat, too satisfied, too completely destroyed. "Just don't move. Don't talk. Just..."
"Okay." His hand strokes down my spine, gentling, soothing. "I've got you, Kessa."
I hate that I relax into his touch. Hate that I shiver at the sound of my name in his mouth. Hate that my body trusts him, knows his hands, has learned to feel safe in his arms despite everything he is.
The silence stretches, broken only by our breathing and the occasional pulse of his knot that makes us both shudder.
"Your heat came too fast," he says finally. "The bond accelerated it. I should have warned you that might happen."
"Would have been nice to know." My voice is muffled against his chest. "Thought I had months."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing for things you can't control."
He's quiet for a moment. Then: "What about the things I can control? Coming back when you told me to go. Breaking down your door."
"I told you to do it."
