Page 143 of Ruled By The Alpha

His hands feather over my skin. Cheek and shoulder, breast and belly, hip and knee. He even traces my toes with the tips of his claws as he eases me back onto the cushions. I let him explore, making my own discoveries as to the pressure and speed that draw the deepest groans out of him. He stretches against me, fitting our bodies side by side, his breath a furnace across my cheeks. He brushes his lips across mine again and again, careful of our fangs. When his tongue slips across my lower lip, I ease my tongue out to meet his. I slow my strokes to match the dance of slick, seeking flesh. He groans into my mouth, seeking a deeper taste, growing incautious in his fervor, and his taste gains a copper edge.

He pulls back with a rueful huff and blots my lips with his fingers. “Too eager.”

“You or me?”

He chuckles. “Us both. There are safer places to taste you.”

He slides down, and I lose my handful, which I protest, reaching for him blindly.

“Shh,” he tells me. “That wants a different sheath.”

Hoping, I part my thighs. With a rumbling laugh, he shifts over me. Pinching my nipple with one hand, he guides his swollen flange up and down my slit with the other. I pat at the air until I find warm skin. A firm roundness. His shoulder. I stroke him, my fingers finding their way over firm, flexing planes of muscle as he flicks his flange against my nub.

He leans over me, brushing a coppery kiss across my lips. “Should it feel like the finest silk?”

“Does it?”

“Yes. But my imagination failed me again. I never dreamt of the heat.”

He nips along my jaw, his fangs prickling. I lift my chin, exposing my throat, something I’ve given no one before. He buries his face in my neck, mouth latching deep, fangs pressing hard enough into the vulnerable vessel to make my head spin. His knees edge my thighs apart. His broad flange with its firm corona nudges me open before sinking in. I arch up to him, relishing the press of his strength everywhere: between my legs, against my belly and breasts, along the line of my throat. We groan together as he sinks further, his tip opening me for the fat shaft that follows.

He strokes his hand up my leg from hip to knee, wrapping my leg around him. I bring my other leg up and lock my ankles behind his back.

He lifts his head from my neck and licks at my lips. “Have you caught me, Omega? In the grip of these powerful legs?” His voice drops to a deep purr. “Am I captured? Never to escape this sweet embrace?”

He slides in fully, our hips meeting, churning together, clinging, parting only for an instant, before surging together again.

“Is that what you wish?”

“Yes,” he groans, sinking deep. “Keep me captive so I can never leave you.”

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, tighten my legs around his hips. “Stay then, captive.”

He slides his hand under me, gripping my cheek, as he flexes his hips, his hugely muscled back. His breath hot on my cheek, his lips brushing my ear, he growls, “No matter your answer in the morning, I will leave part of myself with you when I go. The best part. The finest piece of me will always be yours.”

I coil around him. “I give you what I’ve given no other. My throat under your fangs. My heart beneath your claws. All my trust.”

His grip on my ass turns bruising as he plunges in and out, going deeper with each thrust, his arched flange fitting into my Omega’s Gate, opening it, opening me. I howl with the deep stimulation only an Alpha can give me, my body going rigid. His growls rise as he pounds into me, warning all others away. Each sound proclaims: Here is an Alpha claiming his Omega. Our noises rise in pitch as the tension in our bodies mounts, soaring to an impossible pitch of sound, of sensation.

His roar, as the tension reaches its peak and breaks us both, our bodies straining and bowing, thunders throughout the hai.

He plunges into me a final time. I suck him deep, my gate clamping around his flange and drawing out his seed even as his shaft swells, locking behind my symphysis. Gasping, he collapses onto me. I wind my arms and legs tighter around him, giving him the Omega’s Cradle that Alphas crave when they’re knotted.

He releases my aching buttock and runs his hand up my back to clutch in my hair. “My imagination was wholly lacking.”

I chuckle softly and run my claws, no longer fixed but slipping in and out of their sheaths with each breath, with each pulse of our bodies together, up and down the back of his neck. “Where did it fail you?”

“Everywhere. Your heat. Your slippery silk. Sweet Mother, your grip on me. I’ll never be free, will I? I’m bound within you forever.”

Ready to make that true, I nuzzle his warm throat, seeking the perfect spot to bury my fangs. He wants to be bound to me; I ache with the need to be bound to him, to claim him as he’s claimed me. It’s an Omega’s prerogative, and I can feel the faint tremble of his restraint, as he waits for me. I taste, test, seeking the right resilience.

“Kieran.” He catches my nape in his big hand. “Not there. It has to be somewhere I can hide.”

Frustrated, I blow a breath across his throat.

He shivers and turns my head into his shoulder. “Here. Here, Omega. Bite. Claim your Alpha.”

I do, sinking my fangs into the meat of his shoulder. It’s a good bite, satisfying every ache. He roars as I lick and swallow, then clamps down on my neck, both his elongated upper fangs and the smaller lower ones punching deep. No one seeing my mating bite will think I’ve been anything but thoroughly claimed by a strong Alpha. He laves away the pinching pain, and we twine together, still knotted, tending our claiming marks, as the sky shades from azure to midnight and Midsummer’s golden moon rises.

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