Page 149 of Rut Bar

“Are we freeing Jamie now?” Brendan asks, coming to stand beside him.

Anthony shakes his head. “Not yet. He has to wait, remember?”

No. I want all of them. Need all of them. Why aren’t we fucking yet?

Another belly cramp makes me whimper. Another burst of slick leaks down my inner thighs. It rolls down the crack of my ass and soaks into the nest. Makes it smell more like me, more like pack.

“Keep her busy while I grab what I need,” Anthony says. He slaps Brendan on the shoulder like he’s tagging him in for a game of football.

Brendan nods and sets about undressing. I watch, my gaze hungry, as my hand creeps between my slick thighs. I play with myself while he shoves his pants and boxer briefs down. His cock bobs free, the tip already beaded with a white pearl of precious fluid. It’s big and jutting, nearly perpendicular to his body as he strokes it to full mast until it’s heavy.

God, it’s perfect. He’s perfect.

Although I know he doesn’t see himself that way. He sees damaged goods. A broken alpha. Older, weaker, wounded. He doesn’t see how smart he is. Calm. How confident he makes us with his gentle words of reassurance and easy to follow orders. Experienced. I love the hint of gray at his temples. He’s the safe landing place I’ve looked for my whole life, and I love him.

“On your belly,” he orders.

I pull sticky fingers free and roll onto my belly like he says, and then I wait. He doesn’t keep me in anticipation long. His hand wraps around my ankle and he tugs me down the nest until I’m balanced on the edge. I bend my legs up so they don’t fall to the floor and twist my fingers in the mound of blankets.

“Hands,” he barks.

Untwisting them, I pull my arms behind my back. Fold them together at the small of my back. Fingers grasping elbows. He loves this pose. A binding pose without rope. With me, he doesn’t need it. I’m happy to obey because I crave his touch. His love.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Look at how perfect you are for me.”

My reward is a skim of his hand over my ass. He plays with me, prying my cheeks apart. His thumbs spread my labia. My channel clenches. I’m aware of how achingly empty it is. How ready I am.

He teases me as if he’s testing it for himself. As if he doesn’t see how my pussy and thighs glisten with fresh slick and old cum. How I’ve been ready since Jamie came out on stage with a collar and leash on. Since Anthony used my pussy to masturbate himself among the crowd at Rut.

Even if these things hadn’t happened, I’d be ready. I have been for weeks.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” he orders as his cockhead grazes my clit. Slides along my pussy. Slicks itself in my wetness. Nudges against my needy hole. He presses the tip in, then retreats. Ignores my disappointed moan and pleas for more.

“Shh,” he shushes me. “I’m enjoying taking you slow. We have all the time we need, sweetheart. There’s no need to rush something so perfect.”

“Please,” I moan, wiggling my hips as I attempt to thrust back. To make him surge deeper. Brendan moves against me. He pulls back until only the tip is inside. The wet sounds my body makes are loud, though his thrusts are shallow. Slow.

“What will you give me?” he asks.

“Anything,” I sob.

“I want to touch your arms.”

It doesn’t bother me as much now. We’ve been working on it. He can touch anything as long as he puts his cock in me for real. “Yes.”

Fingers ghost over my crossed arms at the same time his cock sinks deeper. My sigh turns into a moan at the delicious stretching. The fullness. He pulls out and I whimper, but then he sinks balls deep again. His fingers firm around my arm. I’m too distracted by the throbbing in my untouched clit to care about it.

“That’s my good girl,” he says. “Look at how well you take me. Like your pussy’s made for me. You can take more, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

His grip tightens and he adds some weight to his hold, but I’m too distracted by the slap of his balls against my clit to care. He fucks me harder. Deeper. Until my toes curl and my vision goes fuzzy. I can’t focus on anything but the threat of his swelling knot as it catches against my pubic bone with every cervix-deep thrust.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Such a good omega, pleasing her alpha. Being so sweet and good for her pack. You can take more.” He pushes me down into the mattress, our bodies slapping together as his slow, deliberate thrusting turns into a pounding.

My toes curl and my pelvis tightens as his balls slap against my swollen clit. His knot rubs against my sweet spot as he pulls it out, only to shove it back in again. I’m panting, too lost for words. All I can do is moan and whimper for more.

“Here’s your knot, sweetheart. You earned it. Here’s your cum.”

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