“Please what?” I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, barely touching. “Tell me what you want.”
“More. I need more—”
“Say it properly.” I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her legs shake. “Not because I command you. Because you want to.”
She understands what I’m asking. During the heat, she called me Alpha because her biology demanded it. Now I need to know if she’ll choose to say it.
“Please, Alpha.” The word comes out steady, certain. “Please make me come.”
The sound that tears from my throat is something between a groan and a sob. I bury my face between her thighs and worship her—licking, sucking, fucking her with my tongue while she writhes beneath me. Her slick coats my chin, my cheeks, dripping down my throat as I drink her in. I learn what makes her gasp (circles around her clit) and what makes her scream (two fingers curled inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her whole body shake).
When she comes, it’s with my name on her lips—not Alpha, butKarax—and her fingers pulling my hair hard enough to sting.
I don’t stop.
I work her through the first orgasm and into a second, then a third, until she’s sobbing and pushing at my shoulders.
“Please—I can’t—I need you inside me—”
I kiss my way back up her body, tasting her on my lips, and she pulls me into a kiss that’s all tongue and desperation. She can taste herself on me, I realize. The thought makes my cock throb painfully against my breeches, the ridges already prominent along my shaft.
“Are you sure?” I ask against her mouth.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She reaches between us, her small hands fumbling with my laces. “I’m choosing this, Karax. I’m choosing you.”
I help her free my cock—already hard, already leaking, the ridges swollen with need. She wraps her hand around me and I hiss at the contact, my hips jerking involuntarily.
“You’re so big,” she whispers, and there’s wonder in her voice rather than fear. Her fingers trace along the ridges, exploring. “I forgot how big.”
“We can go slow—”
“I don’t want slow.” She guides me to her entrance, her pussy slick and swollen from three orgasms. “I want to feel you. All of you.”
I push into her.
Slow, despite what she said. I need to feel every inch—the initial resistance, then the give as her body opens for me. The way her pussy stretches around my girth, accommodating me even though I’m far too large for a human woman. The flutter of her inner walls as each ridge drags across her sensitive flesh.
“Yes,” she breathes when I’m halfway in. “Yes, more, please—”
I push deeper. Watch her face contort with pleasure. Feel through the bond the exact moment the pressure becomes too much, tipping from fullness into something that borders on pain—
I stop. “Hannah—”
“Don’t stop.” Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels digging into my ass. “I want all of you. I can take it.”
I push the rest of the way in, and she screams.
Not pain. Pleasure so intense it sounds like agony. I feel it echo through the bond—the overwhelming fullness, the way every nerve ending in her pussy is firing at once, the pressure of my cock against her cervix.
“Fuck,” she gasps. “Oh fuck, you’re so deep—”
I hold still, letting her adjust, my arms trembling with the effort of not moving. She’s so tight around me. So hot and wet andmine, not because I trapped her but because she chose me.
“Move,” she whispers. “Please, Karax. I need you to move.”
I start to thrust.
This time, there’s no brutality. No desperation.
