Jude
Iwake up in a bed.
The first thing I’m aware of is the fullness, the deep, rhythmic stretch of being fucked. I’m on my back, my legs spread wide, and a heavy weight is over me, inside me.
My mind is foggy, slow to piece things together. I’m vaguely aware of the alpha moving inside me as my eyes blink open and I look around the room.
Where am I?
The spacious room is masculine, all dark wood and heavy fabrics. The bed is huge with soft, dark gray sheets. The walls are a deep blue, and there’s actual art on them—abstract paintings with bold strokes of color. It’s still dark outside, with the city lights glittering through a large window, painting the room in soft, distant glows.
The alpha above me slams his hips forward, hard, and a deep, helpless moan is pulled from my throat.
He realizes I’m awake, and he stops, his body stilling inside me, and then he’s kissing me. It’s not the brutal, claiming kiss from the car. This one is softer, almost gentle.
“There you are, sweet boy,” he murmurs against my lips.Pace. His name is Pace. “You’re okay. You’re doing so good for me, taking my cock so well while you were sleeping.” He kisses me again, his tongue tracing my bottom lip. “My perfect omega.”
I’m so conflicted it hurts.
A part of me is screaming, terrified and helpless, trapped under the weight of this dangerous stranger who stole me off the streets. But another part of me, a traitorous part that’s being drowned in my heat, feels treasured. Safe.
Pace’s scent is all around me, in the sheets, in the air, and it calms the frantic buzzing in my head. He’s praising me, touching me like I’m something precious, and my body responds with a wave of pleasure that makes me want to cry.
“Come for me, baby,” he encourages, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “Come all over that cock.”
I pant, my back arching off the bed as my dick twitches, rock hard against my belly. Then a wash of powerful, overwhelming pleasure hits me, and I come. It’s not like the sharp, shocking orgasm in the car. This one is a deep, rolling wave that starts in my hips and floods my entire body, making my toes curl and my vision go spotty. Pace grinds his hips against me, his fat cock hitting places I didn’t even know existed, drawing out my pleasure until I’m a whimpering mess.
He hits that spot again, a deep, electric jolt that makes me cry out. “What?” I blurt out, my voice breathless and confused. “What is that?”
Pace chuckles, a low, sexy sound as he rocks his hips forward, pressing right against that spot. “That’s yourprostate, little omega,” he explains. His voice is smooth and patient, not making me feel stupid for asking. “It’s a little bundle of nerves inside you, made just for an alpha to find. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
My face flames red, and I can’t help but wonder if everyone knows this.
How could I not?
Pace leans up, situating himself so he’s sitting up, his cock still buried deep inside me. The alpha wraps one hand around my oversensitive cock. I flinch at the contact. It’s not exactly painful. It’s just a lot.
“So pretty.” He hums as he pushes a hand through my own cum, smearing it all over my chest and stomach, marking me with it. He’s still gently thrusting, his cock still deep inside me, and it’s a flurry of sensation—his hands on my dick, his cock in my ass, his eyes on mine—that has my hips lifting off the bed to meet his movements.
It’s shameful, but I love the things this alpha is doing to me.
My eyes float closed, and I just enjoy the feel of Pace’s hands.
The painful, empty ache of my heat is gone, replaced by the wonderful feeling of being perfectly full. I’m not scared or lost, or panicking about what tomorrow will bring.
I’m just existing, taking the pleasure this alpha is giving me.
“You look happy,” Pace says softly, his hands still rubbing the cum into my chest and hips.
I slowly open my eyes and look up at the alpha. It was so hard to see his face in the alley and then in the car. All I could make out was shadows and fear. But here, in his bedroom with the soft light drifting through the window and the dim lamp in the corner, I can finally see him.
Pace is masculine and sexy, with a strong jaw and a straight nose that looks like it’s been broken at least once. His eyes are intense, a deep brown that seems to see right through me, and they’re focused completely on me as he continues to thrust. And his chest is covered in thick scars.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I shake my head, too embarrassed to admit I was thinking about how handsome he is. He stares at my face with a thoughtful look, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“How did you end up in that alley?” he asks, his voice still gentle.
