He kneels behind me, closer than he was before, the coarse hair on his legs scuffing the back of my thighs as he runs a heavy hand up and down my back. He pets me,hands heavy but gentle, soothing me as we wait for the next wave.
It churns inside me, a river of lava, rising fast, and when it hits? Oh God, it hits hard. A blinding line of fire that lights me up and makes me scream.
“Alpha,” I sob between piercing wails. “Please, Alpha. I need you. Please, please, please!”
Something hot drags up and down my sopping hole. A thick head that stuns me and renders me mindless.
Yes.
God yes.
That’s what I need.
All civilization, all conditioning, all shame, evaporate to nothing. There’s only one thing that matters anymore. One thing I need: Branson’s hard alpha cock.
He taps his head against my opening, and I keen to encourage him. He stills, pausing until I look back at him over my shoulder in confused desperation.
His eyes are glowing, brows drawn low. His lips pull in a grimace that shows a flash of white teeth. He’s panting, chest heaving, and abs clenching. He’s primed, but waiting.
What’s he waiting for?
I’m frantic, my heart racing, my body screaming, as the new wave turns me to ash.
I crane my head frantically to see what’s holding things up.
Our eyes meet. Burnt amber, cool blue. Alpha and omega. The first and the last letters of the Greek alphabet. The beginning and the end. There’s a symmetry in the moment. A finality. An inevitability. We’re both here by a twist of fate. Both products of our biology. Both outside of ourselves right now, but still, deep down, we’re two human beings baring our souls to each other. Shadows ripple in Branson’s eyes, and I see it—I see what he needs.
“Branson,” I say. “I want you.”
That does it.
His eyes flutter shut, head tilting back to expose the sinews in his throat as he breaches me with an almighty thrust.
My body gives way, burning like everything I’ve ever wanted from life, everything I’ve ever needed, and things I didn’t know I wanted or needed. The stretch is intense, but I’m ready for it. I’m made for it. It hurts, but not in a bad way. A necessary way that extinguishes everything that isn’t his body or mine. His body in mine.
He slides his dick into me smoothly, slippery from the copious amount of slick I’m producing. He pauses and tells me to breathe once or twice, but mainly, mainly, hekeeps thrusting his massive cock deeper and deeper into me.
It’s a storm of sensation. Sensitive, oversensitive. Too much, not enough. A deep stretch. Nerve endings singing. It’s all those things, but mostly, it’s a relief. It’s a dizzying, bone-melting relief. It’s the heat that’s ravaged me for days, finally quelled by the ridge of his swollen head grazing my insides. It’s the burn that was a bad thing before changing into something beautiful. Something that’s hot in a totally different way.
My joints are locked. I don’t move a muscle as Branson continues to thrust. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I’m completely open for him, completely spread, completely splayed, and the only thing I want in this world is Branson’s dick deeper inside me.
I don’t move, and I don’t try to. All I do is blink, and when he tells me to do so, I breathe in and exhale. I stay like that, breathing and still, until something deep, deep inside me cramps, and I feel the cool weight of Branson’s balls slapping against mine.
My head spins.
I did it. Holy shit. I did it.
Branson is inside me. I took him. I took all of him.
Full isn’t the word. Though trust me, I’m full and then some. I feel every inch of him. Every ridge. Every vein. I feelhim in the muscle pulled tight around him, and I feel him in the strain as my insides stretch to accommodate him.
I feel him in my guts. In my bones.
In my throat. In my mouth. In my mind.
I pant frantically, as relief, pleasure, and the last remnants of pain dart from my ass to my dick and balls.
“Good boy,” says a deep voice I feel under my skin. A slow vibration that skips over the knobs of my spine.
