“Please,” I whisper.
He doesn’t take mercy on me, not yet. He strokes himself. His cock leaks copiously, trickling over his fingers, the sticky noises as he moves setting me on fire. His heady pheromones send pinpricks across my skin that morph into pulses of pleasure, making me tremble where I kneel.
He reaches forward and sinks his fingers into the hair at the back of my neck.
“Open up.”
I groan in helpless submission. Eagerly I comply as he pulls me forward and directs the weeping tip of his cock toward my lips. I hum as my mouth makes contact, and swirl my tongue around the head, sucking all his sticky goodness in.
A deep rumbling sound of satisfaction emanates from his chest. “Baby, you were born to suck cock. I’m not going to last.”
His admission stokes the fires within me. I’m determined to make him lose control, make him spill his seed down my throat as quickly as I can.
Why? Because I want him as crazy for me as I am for him. But my hands are bound. His fingers are at the back of my neck, tangled in my hair, holding me, directing me, and taking control away. I get no say in how this goes. All I can do is use my tongue and lips and pray that he brings me deeply enough that I can swallow over him.
I groan when he pushes deeper—like he reads my mind—hitting the back of my throat.
“Like that, baby?”
I hum around him, letting him know that, yes, I do. The next time he pulls me down, he pushes right into my throat until my lips kiss up against his knot. The realization turns me wild. I love everything about this, the way his thickness starves me of breath and consumes my every thought. I’m dripping with pleasure.
“I’m going to come,” he says as he directs me off and on, each time going deeper than the time before, until my jaw aches and lips are mashed into the swelling. There he holds me still, choking on his fat cock. Denied air. He groans and his dick flexes inside my mouth, and a hot flood gushes down my throat. I swallow convulsively, choke a little, and swallow more.
He doesn’t let me up, holds me in place until dots sparkle behind my eyes and my pussy begins to flutter.
I’m going to die.
I’m going to come.
The climax wins the battle as my empty pussy spasms over the anticipation of him there, filling me, knotting me. Darkness is coming for me, and I don’t even care.
I rouse with a jolt, my hands are above my head, and I’m spread out on the bed. We’re both naked. He’s sprawled out in front of me with his head between my legs, eating me out so good. His big hands are on my breasts, squeezing them, his fingers playing with my nipples, pinching and rolling them. My hands try to lower and jerk to a halt—the belt still in place, holding me to the head of the bed.
A climax slams straight into me, setting me quaking through savage contractions. My hips lift off the bed. He plants one arm over my abdomen, pinning me still, and goes right back to eating me out, accompanied by soft, rumbly purrs of satisfaction.
It’s too much. I’m too sensitive. “God, please!”
He holds me still and carries on lavishing my clit with lazy, sensual licks that keep me on the cusp.
My next moan feels like it’s ejected from deep in my belly. “I need a moment.”
He doesn’t give me one. But of course not; he’s an alpha. And the hypersensitivity morphs once more into a torturous level of pleasure.
My heart pounds a rapid tattoo inside my chest, while the air is trapped in my lungs. And just before I’m about to pitch over, he lifts his head.
What? “No!”
He crawls over me, his face a mask of determination, lines up, and stuffs me full of his cock.
I climax instantly, throbbing and pulsing, thrashing on the bed. He closes his fist around my throat and pins me still.
“Fuck, Esme. I’ve not even gotten my knot inside you yet.”
I’m coming. It’s pounding through me in pulsing, climactic waves. And I can feel the stretching, the terrible strain as he bears his knot down upon my entrance, pushing relentlessly until it pops right in, snug, tight, hitting sensitive pleasure centers I didn’t know existed. Deep waves of pure bliss radiate out of my core. I’m so impossibly full. Fitted perfectly to him. Two bodies, boundless, beating together. I blink into his beautiful, savage, blazing eyes as he roars his pleasure and pumps me full of his cum.
“Ah, fuck,” he mutters gruffly. “I could get used to this.”
The words strike a discordant note, but I’m too lost in sensation to work out why.
