Page 151 of Rut Bar

He makes a rough, masculine sound of pleasure as his balls empty inside me and blood drips down my chest. Warm droplets cool rapidly once they hit air. I shiver.

Pleasure, his or mine or maybe both, filters through me. Through our weak, one-sided bond. As he laps at the puncture marks his tooth caps made, it strengthens. Thickens inside me. Something snaps and I flinch. The faint sensation of him becomes a deluge of shock and satisfaction. Pleasure hits me. I cry out as my walls flutter around his buried cock and I come again.

“Oh shit, it worked,” he exclaims.

And then he bites me again.

I grunt as his teeth scissor as he bites his claim deeper. Overlaps his mark with Brendan’s. My pussy spasms around his cock like it’s searching for a knot to milk.

Deep satisfaction makes me sleepy. I’m not sure if it’s his or mine. Could be both of ours. It’s been a long day and I’m delightfully sore and full.

“You’re mine, now,” he mumbles. He nudges me flat on the bed and pulls my head to the side so he can lap at the bleeding bites while his cock softens inside me. His weight is comforting, protective, as we lie there together while he tends it.

* * *

Someone mumbles and shifts,the jumble of pillows in the nest tipping precariously. I knock one out of my face and roll onto my side, searching for a warm body. I find one. My fingers trace the dips and swells of washboard abs and taut, silky rope. Jamie fidgets against me. He makes unintelligible rutting alpha noises, and when I run my hands up his body, I learn why. He’s been bound. Is that what they were doing while they kept me distracted and fucked me unconscious? Early morning light filters in through the window. Enough to see him with.

Jamie’s neck cords with jutting veins as he strains toward me, only to give up and lie there, panting, as he recovers. His legs are tied together at the ankles and thighs, and his wrists are secured to his thigh rope. He has enough freedom to move without being truly free.

His cock is still caged, and when I run my hand over it his straining gets more agitated and my fingers come away sticky. Pre-cum stretches between us until the strand breaks and splatters his bare thigh. His hips rock and he groans.

Poor alpha. My poor restrained, denied pet. I bring my sticky fingers to my mouth and lick, humming as I suck them clean and then go searching for more.

It’s a necessary cruelty, and it was his idea, but it still pains me to see him so needy and unfulfilled. So wanting. But if we want him to give into his primal urges, sink completely into his alpha urges, we need to drive him to the edge of feral.

Through our one-sided bond, Jamie aches for me. His cock strains against its cage the same way he strains against his ties and me… And I’m powerless to release him. My neck is bare. Someone took my key while I was delirious or sleeping. They likely thought I’d forget and release him too early.

I slide down his bound body and settle my weight on top of his legs, my face lined up with his cock cage. The metal is cool against my hot skin. I nuzzle my face into his groin and inhale the scent of him. Male and mine. It soothes me to have him close like this.

All of those omegas watching him on that stage wanted him, but he’s all mine. They can’t have him. And we’re going to finalize it when he bites me this heat.

My tongue darts out to lick the opening of his metal cock cage. It slips over hot, velvety skin and laps up the bead of fluid leaking there. Jamie moans louder and fidgets harder. Tries to reach for me. To get his hands on the omega in heat, lying so sweetly next to him in the nest for hours as I slept. To rut and breed me. And to be denied. To be forced to wait.

His hips jerk as much as they’re able to, and I palm his heavy hanging sack as I tease the opening of his cock cage with the tip of my tongue. Sweet coconut cream smears over my lips as he thrusts his bound cock against my mouth. As if his cage doesn’t prevent him from doing the very thing his instincts must be screaming at him to do.

I’ve never seen his balls so bulging with pent up release before. I roll them in my hand, comparing the weight of each side. Stretching the skin over the firm testicle inside. Pulling them away from his body until he arches off the bed, then letting them go. I take one into my mouth and suck, enjoying the flavor of his musk. It’s thicker here.

My pussy clenches around nothing. The ache of last night’s fucking is fading from my heat-clouded mind.

Need more. Need cock. Knot. Cum.

But there will be no cock or knot or cum from this one. I swallow the head of his metal cage and groan in frustration. There’s no velvety slide of skin under my lips. No swollen length to fill my mouth. No knot to squeeze in my hand. His cage is a puzzle that I’m growing too confused to solve in this state. All I know is my pussy needs attention. Anthony and Brendan are both snoring, and Jamie is very much awake.

Awake with a mouth that’s free. His cock and fingers are useless to me. But I can make do with his tongue.

ChapterForty-One

VERONICA

AbandoningJamie’s uselessly caged cock, I crawl up his body and settle with my knees on either side of his head. I brush my slick pussy against his chin, then lift and drag it higher. His tongue darts out and laps at me. I sigh and settle there, allowing him to eat me out.

He licks me from top to bottom, swirling around my clit and tugging the hood back as it swells and grows. He adds pressure and speed to his swirling. Then tension, as he sucks. My clit throbs and plumps in his mouth.

Whimpering, I reach down and bury my fingers in his beautiful, long blond hair as I ride his face and rock. His tongue pierces me. Drives deep inside me as it slurps up my heat sweetened slick and his pack mate’s leftover cum from my hole. He begs me wordlessly for more while he works, diligent and practiced.

It’s not a knot. Not a cock. But the thrusting of his tongue still makes me come. My wetness floods his mouth, threatens to drown him as I ride out my orgasm on his face and make him clean me. He licks my arousal-plump pussy clean until there’s nothing but fresh slick left behind. It’s good, but it’s not enough to quench the fire raging inside me.

“Need a knot, sweetheart?” Brendan asks, his voice rough with sleep.

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