The last time we’d come together like this I had felt so unsure about myself. The tug-of-war between my instincts and my rational mind overloading my circuits before I finally gave in to the part of me that I had avoided for most of my life.
Now, as I shifted my hips up, feeling the slide of Arthur’s cockhead as it notched at the entrance of my core that his fingers had just vacated and a needy whimper left my lips, I felt more certain than I had ever felt before about the alpha above me.
All it took was one, steadying inhalation of Arthur’s sweet, cinnamon-nutmeg spice scent and the question in his eyes for me to nod my head.
Warm lips found the side of my neck, skating over the healed bond mark there and sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine as our shared bond lit up like a Christmas tree.
Then Arthur pushed forward, the growl on his lips vibrating through me as I reached up underneath his arms and pressed my hands tightly into his shoulder blades, feeling the raised skin of one of his many scars underneath my fingertips.
Arthur’s hands slipped around to my hips and suddenly I was no longer lying underneath him.
Suddenly, I was straddling his lap and staring down at his flushed face as he pressed his chin in between my breasts. The new angle brought his half-swollen knot right up to the entrance of my pussy and I shifted around uncomfortably trying to find purchase on the bed underneath us.
“Are you asking me to move?” I teased breathlessly.
He nodded, his facial hair gently scratching the sensitive skin on my chest. “I hear you have become quite the horse rider, little queen.”
I snorted. “Yeah, if you can call hanging onto the pommel of a saddle for dear life horse riding.”
Arthur grinned, his hands sliding up the small of my back and down my arms, lifting my hands until they were pressed to his shoulders.
“Then let me be your pommel, my queen,” he told me, his voice rumbling with a laughter that vibrated through where we were connected.
I wanted to roll my eyes at the silliness of it, but the lighthearted moment passed quickly as Arthur jerked his hips up and I remembered just exactly what we had been in the middle of.
“Whoa there, horsey,” I said with a laugh, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “I thought it was my turn to move.”
Arthur held his hands up in surrender, but said nothing. The room was silent except for the occasional pop from the wood in the fireplace and the sound of our tandem breaths.
Then I began to move.
It was awkward at first, trying to find a rhythm that worked to create the delicious friction that Arthur seemed to find so naturally when he was in control.
The first few lifts of my hips were too shallow to do much of anything and I frowned inwardly, staring down to where we were connected at the waist.
“Perhaps try lifting your hips a bit higher?” Arthur proposed unhelpfully.
Shooting him a playful glare, I clenched around his length tightly until he made a satisfying groan.
“I’m not looking for lessons in thrusting,” I told him, letting go of one of his shoulders so I could gently grip his chin and make sure he was looking up at me before adding, after a moment’s thought, “My king.”
Arthur liked that. I could feel the swell of his cock inside of me and the satisfaction that rippled down our bond. He liftedhis chin from my fingers, tilting it up until our mouths met in a hungry clash of tongues.
I began again, this time lifting my hips higher and ignoring Arthur’s smirk as I dropped back down and finally felt sweet, sweet friction.
That’s it,my inner-omega seemed to sigh with contentment in my head,this is what I wanted.
Need numbed all rational thought. I slipped my arms lazily around Arthur’s neck, hardly aware of his firm, almost bruising grip on my thighs as he urged me on.
“Knot me,” I begged over the sound of our skin slapping together.
“Do it on your own,” Arthur replied with a demanding growl that was so soft it was almost a purr.
I pressed my hips down with a grunt, pushing myself against the ring of flesh at the base of his cock.
Arthur’s hand snaked up to the nape of my neck, giving the hair at the base of my scalp a gentle but firm tug.
“Do it, little queen,” he commanded with a little bit more force, his words echoing with the hint of a bark. “Push that beautiful cunt of yours onto my knot.”
