Page 80 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

“Just thought of you,” he said.

I looked up at him.

“Always do,” he said, pulling me close, searching my gaze as his lips came for mine. “Have since the first time I ever started jerking off. I can’t come unless I’m thinking about you.” And then, he kissed me, his lips pressing warmly into mine, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with my tongue, and I wondered why I let him suck my tits before I kissed him again for the first time, and why it seemed right somehow.

Everything with him seemed right, though. He was Corentin.

He broke the kiss. “Every time I’ve ever had sex with anyone who wasn’t you, I’ve had to think about you to get off. I don’t know what that means, exactly, but it’s just how it is.”

I touched his face. “I… me too, sort of.”

“Until recently, with him, you mean?”

Well, and until Johannes told me to masturbate and think about him Nikolai.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” said Corentin. “He’s just dominant is all. You’ll forget all about him, I know it. We belong together, Aurelie.” He kissed me again.

The kiss was like being tangled up in a rose bush, bright beautiful flowers everywhere while prickly vines tied me down. Corentin was right. Loving him was an ache, a torment.

I wrapped my legs around him, like I was climbing him.

He supported my ass with his hands and walked us over to the wall. He braced me there. “My knot is going to fit just right inside you, Aurelie. I know it will. It’ll give you exactly the right amount of pressure, and you’ll come for me, my love. I want to be inside you now. I know we didn’t do much foreplay, but it’s what we both need at this moment, and you want it, too.”

“I do,” I gasped.

“Take my cock, then, Aurelie?” he asked. “Take my knot?”

I sighed. “Yes, yes.”

“I’ve, uh, I’ve never knotted anyone before,” he murmured. “I’ve always known it was for you, just for you, only for you.”

I reached between us, tightening my thighs around him for balance, and I put him inside me.

“Good girl,” he said, pushing his cock swiftly into me. “Fuck, you’re wet. You feel so good, Aurelie.”

“You feel good too,” I moaned, because he did. I remembered the sex when I’d been in heat, and how it had just been a tease, working me up to things that couldn’t be finished, so I couldn’t be satisfied. But here was the sweet stretch of his knot.

“We’re going to go slow,” he panted. “Take our time working it into you, Aurelie. Savor every second of it.”

I gasped.

And then, as we kissed, he slowly, ever so slowly, wrestled his knot into me, an inch at a time, taking breaks to pull it out and reach down to spread my slick over his knot and my pussy, breathing praise to me all through it. “Such a good girl, so wet, stretching just like she should for her alpha’s knot, that’s right.”

He eased the stretch through me, and each inch of it was another layer of pleasurable intensity. He circled my clit a few times, sweeping my slick over the sensitive bud of me, and then went back to pushing further and further inside me.

My pussy began to have little tremors, warmups for my impending orgasm. I moaned and wriggled, stuck there on his cock, pinned to the wall, my legs wrapped tightly around him.

He groaned, rocking against me. “Wait, wait, not yet, Aurelie.”

But my little clenches sort of sucked him in, all the way in, and his knot was snugly lodged all the way deeply inside me and I began an ascent of pleasure that robbed me of the ability to make noise.

He panted. “Oh, Aurelie, you’re so damned tight.” He started to thrust, just shallow little thrusts, but he was taking up all the space inside me, everywhere, so every little movement stimulated me in all the right places.

I could not moan, I could not scream, but I wanted to. Each thrust nudged me, as if I was a tendril of a rose bush, growing rapidly towards the light, lengthening and shooting out leaves and flowers and using its thorns to get higher and higher. My pleasure grew, like that, agonizing, a build that would not end, a build that kept becoming more intense and more intense. It felt so good, but the goodness was practically painful.

I needed to crest, to climax. I needed the end.

I wanted to beg him for it, but I couldn’t speak.

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