Our pace was devastatingly slow—a slight roll of her hips sliding forward to meet mine in the ancient dance that had existed for as long as humans had walked on this mortal plane.
Guinevere dug her fingers into the curls at the base of my skull and the pain of it mingled with the all-encompassing pleasure that was reverberating from where we were connected. She was blessedly hot inside, the slick walls of her cunt twisting around my cock mercilessly. Nothing I had ever experienced had felt like this before.
My senses were inundated by her. The silky touch of her fingers, her hungry moans, the taste of her tongue as it danced with my own, and the overwhelming scent of her perfume—the erotic scent of honeysuckle and pure sex.
“Gawain,” she moaned when one of my hands drifted in between our slowly thrusting hips and I tested the stiff nubbin at the top of her folds.
She liked that, I realized dazedly as I continued to touch her, exploring and testing her reactions. My free hand was pressed into the small of her back, keeping her body as flush with mine as I could manage.
I never wanted this to end. I wanted to die in her arms—to perish within her gaze and let myself be buried at her feet.
“Knot me,” Guinevere whispered in a hitched voice.
At first, my mind could not understand what she meant until she reached down, brushing my hands out of the way so that she could grip the thick ring of flesh at the base of my length, squeezing it harshly and nearly making me finish again, this time prematurely.
“Put it inside of me, Gawain, and knot me,” she said a bit more harshly this time. “You have to do it.”
A growl rumbled out of me as my inner alpha seemed to rise to the surface, pushing all rational thought from my mind.
My fingers dug into her tender hips in a bruising grip, the thought of leaving my mark on her in some kind of way pleasing my instincts as I began to slowly push my knot inside of her.
It was as if someone had lit a wildfire inside of my chest.
I came with a harsh shout, pressing my face into the crevice between her breasts as she clamped down tightly around my knot, her cunt slick as I emptied myself inside of her.
Guinevere’s gasps and twitching legs were vague and far away as I floated on the tingling warmth of it all.
Bite, bite, bite,my inner alpha chanted loudly. After years of ignoring such things I worried about doing it right, my rational mind immediately wondering if Guinevere evenwantedme to bite her at all.
Bite, my inner-alpha insisted again, and without further thought, my teeth were buried in the soft mound of Guinevere’s breast.
Her gasp was loud as she held my head there and the bond clicked into place.
It was as if my heartbeat was not my own any longer—it now thumped in tandem with not one but two other hearts as the bond lit up with Guinevere’s emotions, and much more faintly, Arthur’s.
I could feel his surprise at being joined in his bond with his wife, but it did not feel as if he minded as I dozed off into oblivion.
No, instead it felt as if I had finally found my place, my family—my pack.
“Gawain,” Arthur’s soft whisper caused me to stir sometime later.
I jerked awake, staring up at the alpha half-afraid he would kill me now that the alpha part of me was asleep again and my rational mind had regained clarity.
“Your majesty—” I began, glancing down at the omega curled to my side, still asleep despite the sudden visitor.
But Arthur just held up a hand. “Be at peace, Gawain, I have not come to tear your entrails from your body or whatever thought is going through that panicked head of yours.”
The relief I felt was immediate. “Then what brings you here, my king?”
“It is Arthur when we are alone,” he told me, his gaze moving to Guinevere. “I am here to retrieve my wife. Until we are ready to reveal the true nature behind our pack, it is best if she wakes in our chambers so as not to alert the maids.”
His words were logical, but I found myself reluctant to let him pull the omega from my arms.
“Easy there, lad,” Arthur warned, though there was no anger in his voice. “You are unused to your alpha instincts and that bond of yours is fresh—but remember that even if we are a pack, I am still your alpha.”
Seamlessly, at his words, my inner-alpha seemed to fall obediently into line, going quiet in my head and letting the haze of territorial zeal I was feeling fade.
“Apologies, your maj—” I paused when Arthur shot me a look before sheepishly correcting myself. “Arthur.”
