Page 9 of His Beast

I feel the growl that rumbles low in his throat vibrate along my body, my cock steadily dripping precum between us as it rubs against his stomach with each thrust. I honestly don’t care where he markes me, but I can feel it deep within me that it is something I desperately need. I need his mark like I need air to breathe. His knot begins to swell, catching on the rim of my entrance while he becomes more erratic, giving in completely to his instincts with each push forward. Shifting my lower body slightly, I changed the position we were in, allowing him even deeper access as his cock buries itself deep within me. His knot swells completely, stretching me past anything I have ever experienced on my own, dancing on the edge of discomfort as he seals us together. With a sharp pain that quickly morphes into pleasure, his teeth sink into my left collarbone, creating a bond between us.

Instantly, I feel a flood of emotions as our bond begin to form, his cock twitching as it spills inside me. Affection, happiness, love, possession, but also humility, gratefulness, and insecurity. Holding him, I run my fingers slowly through his hair while he lays his head on my shoulder, lazily licking his mark. I feel complete in a way I never imagined, solid, and blissful and I make sure to push those feelings through the bond in hopes to erase the insecurity he still felt. I’m pretty sure his insecurities will probably never go away, but I vow to spend the rest of my life reassuring him every chance I get.

Zayn

Quinn is pure perfection. When I claimed him as my mate I anticipated to feel pity, resentment, hesitation, especially since it was done in the heat of the moment. But instead, I feel satisfaction as he purrs quietly against my chest. I squeeze him tighter to me, rolling over so we’re face to face and he smiles at me with a lazy grin, taking my hand in his and tucking it under his cheek with his. Warmth fills my heart, which I guess he could feel through our bond since his smile widens sleepily. God he is beautiful, and I find that I desperately want to be inside him once more, but I’m worried it would be too much too soon.

“How are you feeling?” I inquire, genuinely concerned.

“A little sore. Empty. But otherwise fine. You?”

“Oh, I’m perfect,” I beamed, rather full of myself as I match his grin. “Was…was it okay?”

“It was perfect,” Quin replies, chuckling and leaning forward to kiss me.

It’s odd having Quinn in my head, almost like a cheat sheet to his emotions. It doesn’t make me a mind reader obviously, but it certainly gives an insight into how conversations will go from now on. A perfect example of this is how his happiness flickers to trepidation as he looks at me, reaching over to trace the scars down my face.

“Can I ask?”

Instinctively, I reach up to run my fingers over the raised flesh. I’ve never had to explain them to anyone before, no one cared enough to know. Most people easily avoid the Valla, so it was a topic that just never came up. It doesn’t help that they were tied to my business with Markus and shame that I felt over that night. Quinn opens his mouth, and I assume he’s going to say nevermind and apologize, but I interrupt him.

“My parents were both Valla, and like most of us do, kept mainly to themselves on the outskirts of the city. We got an unusual rainstorm that night and their car slid in the rain, pushing them into oncoming traffic where they were hit by a truck, killing them instantly. No one was going to take in a sixteen-year-old, let alone a Valla, and I had no other family. I won’t bore you with the trivial mundane stuff, but I sorted out their affairs and attempted to live on my own when I met Markus, just as I got evicted from my apartment. Markus offered me a job fighting in his underground fight ring, and said he would cover my basic living expenses if I did well. The first few weeks I slept in the locker room, but as I began to prove myself, I earned things like a cot in the locker room which turned into my own studio apartment.

“As I told you, bets are placed on fighters and we rig fights that I pretend to lose to keep business, a lot of the lost fights are against other Valla who join the ring to burn off frustrations. These are very popular fights, and earn Markus the most money. A Beta had lost everything that night, confident he could make up his debt with my loss, but like others, he hadn’t anticipated I would win against a Valla bigger than I am. I was dumb, living off the high of my first real win against another Valla that I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. Betas don’t usually have a scent so I didn’t know he was waiting in the parking lot for me when he got the drop on me, his knife slicing through my back. I turned around, but before I could protect myself, he got my face.

“I hadn’t meant to kill him, I just wanted him to stop attacking me. I’m not entirely sure what happened, blacked out most likely. I came back to my senses with his limp body under me, blood everywhere, covering my hands. All my life I had been taught to keep myself in check, that the outside world would view me as a monster. It was my duty to protect the public from me, but I lost control and I hated it. I hated being the monster everyone saw me as.”

“Hey,” Quinn extends his right hand, cupping my cheek, his expression sad and tender. He traces the scars upward with his thumb, but his gaze never leaves mine. “You’re not a monster, Z. You were a fucking child and some asshole attacked you. He was trying to kill you, you were protecting yourself. I’m grateful you killed him if it meant you got to be here with me.”

I smile sadly, placing my hand on his as I speak again. “I called Markus once I realized what I had done, but I couldn’t stop shaking. I was bleeding everywhere, so he immediately called a doctor and stitched me up while Markus called a clean up crew. It came out later that the son of an up-and-coming politician had gone missing, and Markus would flash me a look any time it got mentioned. I hadn’t realized that Beta was the politician’s son. Markus said I owed him for everything. I already owed him for taking care of me, but now he added on medical expenses and the price of anyone he had to pay off anytime someone came asking too many questions. I offered to turn myself in, but he told me he would kill me before I ever set foot in the police station.”

“How much do you owe?”

“I don’t know.” I wince. “Markus keeps finding new excuses to add to my debt. I’ve been fighting for him since I was sixteen. Surely I’ve paid it off by now? There is a fight in the city in a few weeks, and he said if I win it, he’ll knock off about a fourth off the debt. But when I don’t even know much I owe, it does it honestly matter? I’m just exhausted and I’m just not into fighting any more. But it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

Hot anger floods through the bond as Quinn bolts upright, rolling me onto my back and climbing on top of me to sit on my hips. He leans in closely so our eyes meet, but he reaches forward to hold my face in place so I’m forced to look at him while he slowly begins to grind his ass against my cock. I suppress the guttural moan that threatens to escape as my body rises to attention, my hands falling to his waist.

“Is this nothing to you? You belong to me now, which means this is your home. It matters because he is using you, knowing you don’t have options, but that changes now. If you want to keep fighting, fight. If you don’t want to, then quit. We’ll find something else for you to do, or you can do nothing and lounge around the house all day, I don’t care.”

Placing his hands on my chest, he pushes upwards before reaching behind him, lining my hard cock up with his entrance before slowly lowering himself down, his body stretching around me. We gasp in unison as Quinn moves lazily, creating a slow rolling rhythm as he takes me, riding me for his own pleasure.

“You have options, Zee.” Quinn pants. “You have a home. You’re wanted by my side with the only commitment being to love me.”

“I will love you well into the afterlife.”

Zayn

“Why is there a breeder calling me, asking about your debt?” Markus storms into the ring where I’m sparring with another fighter, narrowly dodging my swing. “No one pays that off except you, especially no breeder.”

“Stop calling him that,” I grumble, glaring at him.

“It’s what they are. Not good for anything more than putting their legs in the air and pumping out—”

Markus never finishes his sentence before my fist collides with his face, knocking him off balance and breaking his nose in the process with a sickening crunch. Instantly, four Alphas are on me, trying their best to restrain me as if I’m not able to shake them off easily. Blood begins to pour profusely down Markus’ face while my opponent rushes to his side, ignoring the glare my employer throws in my direction.

“Would be a shame if that just cost you our little deal,” he snarls, lowly.

Anger ignites in me as my opponent carries Markus out of the ring, a low rumble in my chest as they walk by me. The urge to stick my foot out to trip Markus is far too strong and I have to shake off the other fighters that hold me back before I do something stupid. My body feels tight and hot, on edge and constricted as I pace in the ring like a caged bull. I need an outlet, but no one in the gym is as strong as I am and can go toe-to-toe with me. My only opponent was myself.