He hushes me soothingly, the touch soft even as his body stays firm behind mine.
“You make such pretty sounds, little mate,” he murmurs against my skin. “We only have ten minutes, then I have to jump on a scheduled call.”
“You can’t knot me then,” I say, aiming for caution, but it twists into something else on the way out. A provocation. A challenge. I’m daring him to hold on to his control, to resist the urgent pull telling him he needs to bury himself deep and stay there.
He nips at my earlobe, a sharp warning bite, then releases it so he can speak low against my ear. “If I don’t get to knot you, you’ll have to make sure my cum stays right where it belongs. I’d hate to see it go to waste by dripping down your thighs.”
I don’t have time to fully absorb the meaning of his words, let alone answer them, before his fingers sink back into the waistband of my pants and this time drag them down in one rough pull. The fabric tangles around my ankles, leaving mystance awkward. Restrained. His hands never leave my skin as he straightens to his full height, fingers tracing hot trails up both my legs.
I pitch forward some more, my hands shift on the desk to keep myself steady as my breath comes in uneven pants. He reaches around me without hesitation, boldly cupping my pussy in his palm. Behind me, an appreciative hiss leaves him before he’s lifting the same hand to his mouth.
I turn my head just enough to watch as he admires the evidence shining there, the slick glistening on his fingers and palm.
“Oh fuck,” I pant, my head dropping forward between my shoulders. I’m so painfully turned on, it borders on overwhelming. Not “in heat” turned on. No, nothing is quite as bad as that, but I’m reaching the end of my limit and seconds away from begging.
Either the timing is perfect or he’s paying close attention to my feelings through the bond even now, despite everything else pressing in.
Whatever the reason, he doesn’t make me wait much longer.
There’s the rustle of his clothes being removed.
He doesn’t stretch me with his fingers the way he usually does. Doesn’t take the time to work me open, to ease me into it. He trusts that I’m ready, wet enough to take him, and pulls my hips back so he can line the thick head of his cock up with my weeping entrance.
“You’re going to take my cock, aren’t you, baby?” he growls, the sound, half purr, half warning, murmured over my shoulder. He dips lower, dragging his hard length slowly through the slick between my legs, coating himself in it. My breath hitches when the head glides over my clit. “I’m going to stretch you wide, and you’re going to let me in.”
He rasps the words to me like they’re questions, but threaded through them is something darker. A command. An order my omega nature is more than eager to obey.
I plant my feet as wide as the leggings still trapping my ankles will allow and bow my back, offering myself to him without reservation.
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
When Rennick said I was going to take all of him, I didn’t think he meant like this.
One second I’m dreadfully empty, clenching around nothing, and the next, he’s driving into me, forcing my body to take every thick inch of him at once. It’s too much and somehow never enough, that deadly combination of sensation I’m quickly growing obsessed with. I swear I can feel him pressing up beneath my ribs. I choke as the air leaves my lungs, pleasure and the shock of fullness colliding until my vision blurs at the edges.
“Fuck, Noa,” he growls behind me, the sound forced through clenched teeth. “I’ll never get tired of watching your pussy swallow me like this.”
His words summon an involuntary shiver, it tears down my body, starting at my scalp and reaching my toes. My inner muscles tightening around him, squeezing him.
Rennick hisses out a breath. “Are you going to try and milk the cum out of me?”
“Yes!”The beast in my head, the part of me that lives to be claimed by her mate in every way that matters, agrees completely. It feels vital that we earn his release. That we feel him mark us like this, intimate and oh-so deep.
Rennick must feel it too, because he starts to move.
He eases out in slow, dragging withdrawals and then snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely.
It only lasts a few strokes before his restraint gives up and the rhythm turns rough, every thrust fueled by carnal need.
He slams into me from behind, the angle perfect for dragging the head of is cock against all those wonderfully sensitive places along my pussy’s front wall. He zeroes in on one spot in particular, and keeps hitting it, drawn to the sound it repeatedly tears from my throat and the way my body reacts before I can stop it. Once he’s found it, he doesn’t wander, every thrust precise, every movement curated for my undoing.
My breathing breaks down into sharp, panting little gasps of air
All I can do is try to keep my now sweaty palms from siding across the smooth metal surface of his desk
One of his hands leaves my hips to dip down where we’re joined, his fingers gathering some of the slick there. The breath I’ve been teetering on the edge of punches out of me all at once when those slick-coated fingers press to my ass, then stay there. Not pushing in. Just applying pressure as he traces slow circles.
The sensation is foreign, intimate enough to make a small voice in my head whisper that I should retreat, that this is new territory I don’t know how to navigate yet.
