Page 21 of Drowned By the Dreadnought

“No. Nest,” he demands.

I scowl up at my austere beast. The scar running down the side of his head gleams in the overhead light, but not a trace of fear rises in me. All I see is the bottomless devotion shining from his familiar eyes.

He was handsome as a boy, but as an adult male, he’s devastating.

As my alpha, he’s perfect.

He slides his toes under the pile I gathered and lifts, threatening to disrupt my organization.

I hiss and fall prey to his game, snatching the blanket and tossing the quilt at him. As he properly scents the next item, I spread the base layer and lovingly smooth the damp spots before thrusting my empty hand toward him, silently demanding the quilt.

The world fades away. Nothing matters beyond perfecting my nest and the alpha watching my every move with heated eyes.

I can no longer forget his presence. My senses hyper focus on him as my cramps worsen. I long for his touch. He’s too far away, but I’ll kill him if he interrupts my process.

This nest is mine. My joy. My responsibility. My gift to him.

I use dozens of pillows, cushions, rugs, towels, and other miscellaneous items. Whatever soft thing he offers me, I include in my creation.

Pride swells through me as I settle into the center of my finished work and check the size and feel. Satisfied, I take a deep breath and release it on a sigh.

Only one thing missing. I crawl to the edge of my nest and reach through the layers to tug the last required item into place. My alpha’s broad shoulders fill my vision. I purr and return his smile as he follows my lead and crawls to the center.

My nest becomes the safest, most comfortable haven in the entire dystopian world as the alpha of my dreams settles onto his back and pulls me on top of him.

His massive, hard body steals my focus. It’s terrifying, thrilling, and enticing, and even though a small part of me yearns to run away screaming. I wrap my knees around his hips and splay my fingers over his shoulders. Slick coats his belly and groin as I rub my nipples over the hard ridges of his abs.

He’s so big.

His growl of impatience scrambles my brain, and I gasp as he cups the back of my head and pulls me up his body to claim my lips.

I drown in his urgent domination, too caught up in the hot glide of his tongue against mine to notice as he rolls us over and pins me onto my back. With firm hands, he cups my breasts and tweaks my nipples, skyrocketing me into need so great I can hardly breathe. When he pulls his lips away from mine, I whine and seek more, but he’s too occupied trailing down my throat and sucking at my collarbone to heed my plea.

I thread my fingers into his hair and cling to him as he mends my heart further with gentle sweeps of his lips over my bruises. Without a word, he agonizes over and apologizes for the pain I’ve endured. He heals me with gentle attention amidst the storm of arousal.

Silent tears slip down my temples, but before I break into sobs, he takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the sensitive peak. My hips buck. Fresh slick smears over his abdomen.

I need more. Now.

He pins my knees to my shoulders, knocking my hands out of his hair, and drops his face between my legs with a feral snarl.

I die a billion glorious deaths as he consumes me with ravenous hunger, shattering over and over with every thrust and flick of his tongue and change in suction from his impatient mouth.

When he releases my legs and presses his front against mine, I heave, rubbing our chests together, and revel in our size difference, my senses too overwhelmed to handle deeper thoughts. He licks the sweat from my brow and parts my legs. I gasp as he grinds his hips into mine, the long, hard length of his cock massive against my stomach.

There’s no way he’ll fit. I’ll never survive.

I need him.

He lifts his hips and nips the top of my ear, sending electricity down my spine as he fits himself to my entrance. I scream and throw my head against the pillow as he pushes into me. The glorious, horrible stretching is too much, yet not enough.

I need more. His soul will do.

I lunge upward and bite his shoulder, uncaring about the strain on my neck as his blood coats my tongue. The rich, coppery taste of his lifeblood steals my senses as his masculine presence settles within my chest as a partial bond forms between us. His low, tortured rumble vibrates through my core, and I jerk my mouth away from him as he pulls out and returns to my entrance double the original size.

His blood drips onto my cheek as I look down our bodies. He pushes two fingers into my pussy.

“What are you doing to me?”

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