"Morning." He didn't smile, didn't soften, his jaw tight with tension, his muscles coiled beneath sweat-slicked skin, his cock already hard and pressing insistently against my thigh, hot and thick and demanding even through the sheet that barely coveredus. Just kept looking at me like I was prey and he was deciding exactly how he wanted to devour me.
Something stirred in my chest at his expression — not fear, exactly, but something close to it. Something that made me want to bare her throat in submission even as another part of me, something wilder and more primal, wanted to fight back. The feral part. The survivor who had spent years refusing to submit to anyone.
"How do you feel?" I asked, even though I could see the answer written in every tense line of his body, in the way his fingers flexed against the sheets like he was barely holding himself back, in the way his nostrils flared as he breathed in my scent.
"Like I want to pin you down and fuck you until you can't remember your own name." The words came out rough, raw, unapologetic, his hand reaching out to grip my hip with bruising force, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks, his dark eyes never leaving mine, pupils blown wide with need. "The rut's still... I'm trying to hold back, but?—"
"Don't." The word surprised us both, fierce and defiant, something wild rising in my chest, my own scent shifting — I could smell it, the honey sweetness deepening into something muskier, something that answered his need with my own. I shifted onto my back, meeting his hungry gaze with something that felt like challenge, my chin lifting slightly, my body already responding to his need — slick gathering between my thighs, soaking into the sheets beneath me, nipples hardening to aching points. "Don't hold back."
Something flashed in his eyes — surprise, then heat, then something darker and more dangerous that made my stomach clench with want and my heart race with something that felt almost like fear.
"Careful what you ask for, little Omega." His voice dropped to a growl that I felt more than heard, vibrating through my bones, his body shifting over mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his hands finding my wrists and pinning them above my head in one swift motion, his grip like iron bands around my bones. "I'm not feeling gentle today."
"Good." I arched up against him, feeling his cock slide through the slick that had already gathered between my thighs, coating him in my arousal, the sensation making us both shudder, my voice coming out breathless and challenging, my eyes meeting his without flinching. "Neither am I."
He kissed me — hard and claiming, all teeth and tongue, no tenderness in it whatsoever. He tasted like sleep and need and something wild that made my head spin. His grip on my wrists tightened, keeping me pinned, keeping me exactly where he wanted me. I kissed him back with equal ferocity, my tongue battling his for dominance, and then I bit his lower lip — hard enough to make him growl, hard enough to draw a bead of blood that tasted like copper on my tongue.
"Feisty this morning." He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with something that made my heart race, his lips curled in something that was almost a smirk, blood welling on his lower lip where I'd bitten him, his tongue darting out to taste it, his hips grinding against mine in slow, deliberate circles. "I like it."
"Maybe I'm tired of being the one who submits." The words came out before I could stop them, something wild and defiant rising in my chest, my feral side warring with each other for dominance inside me. His eyes flared with heat, his grip on my wrists tightening until it bordered on painful, his hips grinding harder against mine, his cock sliding through my folds but not entering, teasing, torturing, the head catching on my entrance with every pass.
"Is that so?" His voice was a low rumble, dangerous and thrilling, sending shivers down my spine, his scent spiking sharper with arousal and challenge. "You think you can take control from me, little Omega? Think you can challenge an Alpha in rut?"
"Maybe I want to try." I twisted beneath him, testing his grip, feeling the strength in his hands, the way he held me down without any real effort, his muscles barely straining while mine burned with exertion. Something shifted in his expression — the civilized part of him retreating, something more primal and animalistic taking its place. His eyes went darker, his lips pulling back to show his teeth, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely human.
"Then try." He released my wrists. I moved fast, using the element of surprise to shove at his shoulders, putting every ounce of strength I had into the movement, rolling us so I was on top. For one triumphant moment, I straddled him, my hands planted on his chest, my thighs clamped tight around his hips, victory surging through me.
Then he moved. Before I could process what was happening, I was on my stomach, the breath knocked out of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his hand fisting in my hair and yanking my head back hard enough to make my eyes water. His cock pressed against my entrance, hot and thick and demanding, the head nudging against my slick opening, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell his scent everywhere — surrounding me, consuming me.
"Nice try." His breath was hot against my ear, his voice rough with amusement and arousal, his free hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise, holding me in place, his chest heaving against my back. "But you're going to have to do better than that if you want to take control from me."
I snarled — actually snarled, the sound surprising us both, something completely feral and inhuman ripping from my throat — and bucked against him, trying to throw him off. He laughed, the sound dark and pleased and infuriating, and pressed me harder into the mattress, his weight pinning me completely, his hand tightening in my hair until my scalp burned.
"There she is." His teeth scraped over my shoulder — not a claiming bite, just a tease, a threat, a promise of what he could do if he wanted to — his breath hot and ragged against my skin, his hand tightening in my hair, his hips grinding against my ass, his cock sliding through my slick folds. "There's my feral girl. Fight me. I want to feel you struggle."
Something broke loose inside me at his words. I twisted and writhed beneath him, using every ounce of strength I had, every survival instinct I'd honed over years of running. I got one arm free, tried to push myself up, almost managed to throw him off balance. He caught me, flipped me onto my back with a move that was almost too fast to track, pinned my wrists above my head with one hand while the other gripped my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes. His breathing was harsh, his eyes wild, sweat dripping from his brow onto my chest, his scent overwhelming — pure Alpha, pure need.
"Yield." The command was rough, absolute, brooking no argument, his eyes blazing into mine, his cock pressing against my entrance, so close but not inside, the head slipping through my slick, teasing. "Submit to your Alpha."
"Make me." The words came out defiant, breathless, my chest heaving, my body trembling with a mix of arousal and adrenaline, my eyes locked on his without backing down, the feral part of me refusing to give in even as slick flooded from my core, betraying my body's need.
His eyes went dark — darker than I'd ever seen them, almost black with need. His hand tightened on my jaw, his grip on my wrists becoming almost painful.
"With pleasure." He drove into me in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and I screamed — not in pain, but in overwhelming pleasure, my body stretching to accommodate him, slick flooding around his cock as he filled me completely, impossibly deep. I could feel every inch of him — the thickness spreading my walls, the heat pulsing against my deepest places, the throb of his heartbeat inside me.
"That's it." His voice was rough, satisfied, victorious, his hips pulling back and slamming forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that had me seeing stars with every thrust, the wet sound of his cock driving into my soaked pussy filling the room. "Take it. Take every fucking inch of your Alpha's cock."
I couldn't respond — couldn't do anything except hold on as he fucked me into the mattress, his grip on my wrists keeping me pinned, his other hand gripping my thigh and spreading me wider, opening me up for his assault. The pleasure was overwhelming, building impossibly fast, each thrust hitting spots inside me that made my whole body jerk, my walls clenching around him involuntarily.
"You wanted to fight?" His voice was rough against my ear, his hips never breaking their punishing rhythm, sweat dripping from his body onto mine, his scent filling my lungs until I couldn't breathe anything else. "This is what happens when you challenge an Alpha in rut. This is what you get."
"Fuck you." The words came out defiant even as my body clenched around him, even as pleasure spiraled higher and higher, even as my treacherous Omega purred with satisfaction at being claimed. He laughed — a dark, dangerous sound — and shifted his angle, hitting something inside me that made my vision white out, made my whole body seize with pleasure.
"That's the idea, sweetheart." The orgasm crashed through me without warning — a wave of pleasure so intense I screamed into his shoulder, my whole body convulsing, my walls clamping down on his cock in rhythmic pulses, slick gushing around him, soaking us both. I could feel it dripping down my thighs, could smell my own arousal mixing with his scent until the room reeked of sex and need. And still he didn't stop. Still he kept fucking me through it, his pace becoming even more brutal, his growls filling the room.
"Again." The command was rough, his fingers finding my clit — swollen and sensitive — rubbing in harsh, devastating circles. "Come again. I want to feel you while you fight me."
I twisted beneath him, the pleasure bordering on too much, overstimulation making my whole body hypersensitive. Every nerve ending was alive, singing with sensation. I managed to get one hand free, raked my nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, the coppery scent joining the mix of sweat and slick and arousal. He caught my wrist, pinned it back above my head, and fucked me even harder, his hips thrusting into me with brutal force, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust.
