Page 33 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

He climbs onto the bed, swinging his knee over my torso. His legs are so short, he can barely straddle me. He sits on my abdomen and leans over to place his hands on my chest. My heart races under his fingertips.

“Make me forget about everything but you,” he whispers. He bends forward, resting the weight of his body on my chest, and presses his lips to mine. The moment our bodies come together, I close my arms around him. I can’t help it. I need to holdhim. We roll over in a synchronized movement that should be impossible with a man I haven’t seen for six years. The moment his body is trapped under mine, the kiss grows wild. He cards his fingers through my hair and holds my head down, attacking my mouth with a fervor that clacks our teeth together and makes me feral with need.

“Slade, please,” he moans, moving his hands down to the front of my jeans. They’re trembling as he shoves them between our bodies.

I should slow this down and savor him. I should have done that the first time too. But I rest my weight on one elbow to help him with the button of my jeans. His hand slides underneath my underwear and cups my cock.

I almost come, it feels that good.

“Fuck me,” Quin begs. “I need you. God, I’ve needed you for so long.”

My inner alpha rises to the surface, possessive and euphoric. Quin needs me. I rise up to my knees, grabbing for his jeans and yanking them down without bothering to unbutton or unzip them. The denim splits along the back.

He looks up at me, his eyes glazed over with lust. “You need me too.” It isn’t a question. I can feel his inner omega emerging to greet me. He intertwines with my inner alpha, and the sensation is pure bliss. It’s like taking a gulp of water after walking for hours in the heat. It’s like gasping for air after being submerged in water for too long. It’s like eating on payday after a week of getting by on nothing but free school lunch. I close my eyes and let out a ragged breath.

Quin reaches out for me, desperate for a physical connection. I grab for his underwear and tear them right off his body. His cock is hard and pulsing, already weeping precum. He’s gushing slick too. He couldn’t be more ready for me. I plunge a fingerinside him, and watch as he throws his head back, and his entire body goes taut.

“Oh my God! Slade!” He grabs for my shoulders and clamps down hard on my finger. His cock spurts an incredible amount of cum. I have a strange desire to lap it up like a dog. I want to tell him he’s mine. I want to growl it in his ear and drive my cock into him all at once. I have to remind myself that he isn’t mine at all.

I bury my nose into his neck to hide my anguish. Quin doesn’t want to be mine. He’s only here in this motel with me because of the physical need between us.

“Slade. Please,” he says.

All I can do now is give him what he needs until he stops needing me.

I slide my finger out of him and carefully ease two in this time. He isn’t as tight as he was six years ago, which is a relief. I was terrified of hurting him back then. I tell myself it’s because he’s older, not because he’s been with other men, although I’m sure he has. Just because we have a half-formed bond, doesn’t mean he had to be celibate.

I briefly wonder if he could take my knot now, but then I dismiss it. He doesn’t want that.

“There are condoms in the back pocket of my pants,” he says.

I grab for the torn denim and fish inside each of his back pockets until I find the three neatly folded foil wrappers. Quin wasn’t planning on having sex with me. He made that very clear. These condoms were in his car for another reason.

I remind myself it’s none of my business, but my inner alpha is still intertwined with Quin’s inner omega, and he rages with anger. He doesn’t want to share. Quin is ours.

“Is everything okay?” Quin asks.

I nod. I can’t screw this up because of my stupid grizzly heart.

I have to remove my fingers from Quin to get the condom on. He holds my wrist, clearly shaken by the loss of contact. I slide the condom on awkwardly. It’s been far too long since I used one.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” he says, lowering his gaze to the mattress. “I bought a dildo that reminded me of you. I’ve been… getting my body used to it.”

My heart soars. I line myself up, eager to remind him what his alpha’s cock feels like. I push into him slowly, but unrelenting, forcing him to take me all in one thrust. When I’m all the way in to the hilt he lets out a strangled breath and clings to me.

“Oh, Slade.”

He’s perfect. The way we fit has a rightness to it that I feel all the way down to my bones. My body is meant for Quin’s. He may not be meant for me. I know that I don’t get to have a happily ever after. But I am his, irrevocably.

I kiss his cheek, his jaw, his ear. I nuzzle the lobe, wishing I could tell him all these big feelings trapped inside my chest. More than anything, I wish I was the kind of alpha who could give him everything he deserves.

His hips move ever-so-slightly. My body sings where we’re connected. I rock my hips, grinding into him. He clings to me, whispering a quiet “more” into my ear. I think I’ll remember the sound of that “more” until I die. I thrust hard until our skin slaps together. I love that sound, too. I close my eyes and revel in every little noise, in the sensation of his tight walls around me. I won’t last long like this, but I give him everything I have, our bodies coming together faster and faster, until he squeezes me hard and lets out a primal scream.

I don’t mean to knot him. I can feel his passage getting tighter, and deep down, I know what that means. But I’m not ready to let him go. I slam inside him one last time, and ourbodies lock. I feel him tremble beneath me as I grow large enough, I can’t pull out again. I roar into his ear, my vision going white as the most powerful orgasm of my life rips through me.

He rocks against me, his body squeezing around my knot. “Oh, God. You’re too big. I can’t. I’m going to—” he cries out again, shaking his head back and forth.

Delicious sparks of sensation rush through my body. It’s like an extension of my orgasm. I keep rutting into him, chasing the bliss and the intense feeling of closeness. I’ve never been this close to anyone before. I can almost feel his pleasure as his back arches and he scores his fingers down my chest over the fabric of my shirt.

---