"But—" I start to protest, but his finger presses against my lips, silencing me.
"Trust your alpha," he murmurs, his free hand trailing down my body to rest just above where I need him most. "Trust your body."
When his fingers finally touch me properly, I nearly scream. The first brush against my slick folds sends a tremor through me, pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. I'm swollen and sensitive, my body primed and ready despite my fears.
"So responsive," he growls, circling my entrance with one massive finger. "So perfectly slick for me."
The first finger slides in effortlessly, my body welcoming the intrusion with a flood of fresh slick. But even one of his fingers stretches me more than I thought possible, and when he adds a second, I fully understand the true scope of what's about to happen.
"Breathe," he commands when I tense around him. "Let me prepare you properly."
Prepare. The clinical word does nothing to diminish the overwhelming sensation of being slowly opened, stretched, readied for something my rational mind insists is impossible.His fingers move, finding spots inside me that make me writhe and moan beneath him.
"That's it," he murmurs, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of my sex. "Let me feel you come apart."
The climax crests like a tidal wave, lifting me up and washing me out, leaving me breathless on a shore of pure sensation. My body clamps down around his fingers, milking them desperately, and through it all he never stops moving, never stops stretching, never stops preparing me for what's to come.
"Again," he growls, adding a third finger that makes me cry out. "You'll come for me again before I claim you properly."
" I can't," I gasp, even as my body bucks against his hand. "Please, it's too much."
"It's not enough," he corrects, his fingers curling inside me to find a spot that makes me see stars. "You'll take everything I give you, little omega. Everything."
The second orgasm builds slower but hits harder, my entire body convulsing around his invasion. Slick gushes from me, and the approving rumble from his chest tells me he's pleased with my body's response.
"Ready," he growls, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself between my thighs. "Now you're ready for your alpha's cock."
The blunt head of him presses against my entrance, and even prepared as I am, I can feel my body struggling to accommodate his size. He's massive, impossible, too much for any human woman to take.
But the heat singing in my blood doesn't care about impossibility.
"Please," I beg, my hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please, I need?—"
"You need to be filled," he finishes for me, beginning to push forward. "Need to be stretched around your alpha's cock. Need to be taken like a good omega."
The first inch steals my breath. The second makes me whimper. By the third, I'm convinced I'm going to split apart, my body stretched beyond what should be possible.
"Too big," I gasp, tears streaming down my face. "Oh gods, you're too big."
"You'll take it," he says with absolute certainty, his hands gripping my hips to hold me steady as he continues his slow invasion. "Your body was made for this. Made to take every inch of me."
He's right. Somehow, impossibly, my body continues to open for him, slick easing his passage even as I feel stretched to my absolute limit. Every inch is a revelation, a reminder of just how completely I'm being claimed.
"Halfway," he growls, and I nearly sob at the knowledge that there's still so much more. "You're taking me so well, little omega. So pliant."
When he finally bottoms out inside me, I feel him everywhere. In my belly, pressing against places I didn't know existed, stretching me so completely that I can't tell where I end and he begins. I'm pinned beneath him, utterly filled, completely claimed.
"Mine," he rumbles, his voice rough with possession. "Every inch of you belongs to me now."
"Yours," I agree breathlessly, because what else can I say? He's carved out a space inside me that will always be his, marked me in ways that go deeper than skin.
When he begins to move, I understand that everything before this was just preparation. The careful stretching, the patient opening—all of it was leading to this moment when he trulyclaims me. His thrusts are deep and devastating, each one hitting places that make me scream with pleasure.
"Going to fill you," he growls against my throat, his tusks scraping against the fresh bond mark. "Going to pump you full of my seed until it takes. Going to ensure my claim is sealed."
The words should terrify me, but instead they send me spiraling toward another climax. The idea of carrying his child, of my body swelling with the proof of our claiming, makes me clench around him desperately.
"Yes," I moan, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "Please, fill me. Make me yours completely."
