The filthy promise made me clench down around him, and he snarled, thrusting even deeper, both of us losing the rhythm, just chasing the release. The bed shook with every desperate movement, the air filled with the slap of skin and the wild, half-broken sounds spilling from our mouths.
Michael’s hand found my cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, rough and sure. I was already so close, every nerve ending lit up, pleasure sparking through me as I rode him, taking him over and over.
“I want it,” I panted, voice desperate, “Want you to fill me. Breed me. Please, Michael, come inside me.”
He shuddered, sweat pooling in the hollows of his collarbones, his mouth latching to my nipple, sucking, biting, marking me. His hands clamped down on my ass, driving me down, holding me in place as he fucked up hard, chasing his own edge.
“I’m gonna—fuck—Daniel?—”
I slammed down onto him, grinding, grinding, needing everything. I felt him start to throb inside me, the heat building, the moment stretching between us. Then he went still, cock buried to the root, and with a hoarse, broken cry, he came—spilling deep, flooding me with heat, filling me so full I could feel it leak out around his cock, slick and obscene.
He held me there, his whole body shaking, his breath hot against my chest, his teeth buried in my skin. I could feel his cum leaking out, mixing with sweat, dribbling down my thighs and onto the sheets.
The sensation sent me over the edge. I cried out, coming hard all over his chest and stomach, my body clenching around him, milking every last pulse, both of us trembling, lost.
For a long moment, we just clung together, breathing hard, bodies tangled, sweat cooling. Michael didn’t pull out, just held me tight, hands soothing over my back, down my thighs, keeping me close.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, voice wrecked and full of wonder. “So fucking beautiful. So fucking mine.”
I smiled, pressing a soft, tired kiss to his lips, my body aching in the best way. “Yours,” I promised. “Every messy, ruined inch.”
He stroked my hair, his fingers gentle now, the animal hunger giving way to something softer—protective, claiming, reverent.
I shifted, feeling his cum still inside me, thick and warm, leaking out as I clenched around him, relishing the ache and the proof of what we’d done. He kissed me, sweet and deep, hands never still, and I knew this was everything I’d ever wanted.
We stayed tangled together, a perfect wreck of sweat and warmth and the kind of quiet that only happens after you finally stop fighting yourself.
Michael lay against me like he belonged there, my thigh hooked over his, my hand splayed on his back as if I could anchor him to the bed and keep the world out. His hair was a mess, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded with that dazed, satisfied softness that made my chest ache in the worst, best way.
He let out a tired laugh, breath catching like his body still did not know what to do with peace. “I don’t think I can move my legs.”
I huffed a laugh into his hair. “Good.”
“Cocky,” he murmured, but he was smiling, real and bright. “I think you ruined me.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Debatable.” He shifted just enough to look at me, eyes searching like he was still trying to make sense of what we’d done. What we’d become in the space of one night. “So… what happens now?”
The question hit me right in the ribs.
Because my body wanted to answer with something simple. Something selfish. Hold him. Keep him. Pretend this was all that mattered.
But my mind was already reaching for consequences, for responsibility, for the pack, for the lines I had crossed and the ones I had not even noticed until they were gone.
I brushed his hair back, thumb dragging gently along his cheekbone. “Now I keep you close,” I said. “If you want that.”
His eyes softened. Hope sparked there, quick and bright. “What if I do?”
“Then I’m not going anywhere,” I said, and meant it so hard it almost scared me. “Not unless you tell me to.”
He breathed out, relief shifting his whole face like a weight had finally slid off his shoulders.
He leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth—small, sweet, like he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t think I could make you do anything, Alpha.”
Michael’s smile lingered, but his gaze flicked over my face again—reading me, the way he always did.
“Was that…” I paused, then forced it out. “Was that your first time with a guy?”
