Page 9 of The Feral Alpha

It wasn’t true, of course. But Olson could pretend, and it felt so good being filled by his alpha again.

“Mine,” the alpha growled. He snapped his hips forward, Olson’s name like a prayer on his lips. “Olson, Olson, Olson.”

He grew thicker inside, like he was going to come. So Olson squeezed around him, and the alpha roared, burying every last inch, pulses upon pulses of warmth filling Olson’s body.

His knot swelled.

Had it been anyone else, Olson would’ve shoved them away before their knot locked inside him. But that maplewood scent was so comforting that Olson let him stay. He let the alpha push in experimentally with his knot, so it rocked against his prostate and sent a shudder of pleasure through his body.

The alpha smiled. “You like.”

“Yes,” Olson groaned.

The alpha rocked in again. “Olson like.”

Olson swore, his limp cock giving a squirt.

And the alpha held him down, sliding his knot back and forth until Olson writhed beneath him, his body clenching in another release.

“Yesss,” the alpha whispered. “Olson like.”

He kept grinding his knot inside until Olson couldn’t come anymore, his mind floating in a sea of bliss.

“Fuck,” Olson groaned. “That was fucking amazing.”

He felt more warmth inside him. And more. And he realized that the alpha was still coming inside him.

“Mine,” the man growled, pushing his knot deeper.

Olson came again, digging his nails into the alpha’s sides.

The alpha hissed, jerking away. Just that his knot was still locked inside, and Olson had to grab both his hands so he wouldn’t rip himself out.

“Wait! Don’t go. Sorry. You don’t like being scratched, huh?”

The alpha paused, eyeing him warily.

Only then did Olson look closer at the alpha’s body. Scars criss-crossed every inch of exposed skin. Welts, star-shaped markings, swathes of paler skin, and thin, deliberate lines.

His heart stopped. “Who did that to you?”

The alpha watched him, saying nothing. So Olson sat up as best as he could given how they were still knotted together, turning the alpha’s hand over and smoothing his thumb over a long, silvery line.

“Where’s this from?” he murmured.

The alpha growled, and he kept on growling.

Olson was starting to get a foreboding feeling that maybe... this was connected. The scars. The feralness. The thick muscles on the alpha’s body.

“I’m sorry about scratching you,” he said, carefully reaching for the alpha’s side. When the alpha didn’t back away, Olson gently rubbed where he’d dug his nails in. “I promise not to hurt you again.”

The man watched him for another long stretch, and slowly the tension drained out of his body.

“There,” Olson murmured, still rubbing. “Things are good between us? You’re not mad at me?”

The alpha snuffled. He leaned back in, nuzzling Olson’s cheek. “Mine.”

Olson cracked a smile. “You know more words than my name.”

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