Page 35 of Ruled By The Alpha

“Not me. Us.” His big hands gripped her hips. “A pull. Shivers. Aggression. Power.”

Shocking. She hadn’t realized he felt it too. “Yes.”

His fingertips pressed into her flesh. “What is this… feeling?”

Another wave of surprise slammed through her. Did he really not know? “Pleasure.”And a deeper connection: completion.As if we were meant to be.But she refused to admit that aloud.

He scowled, as if sensing her resistance. “You have felt this before?”

She shook her head.

Triumph flared in his stare. “Good.” He dropped to his knees. “Only I will ever give this feeling to you. Only I will ever feast on you.” Stare locked with hers, his body so much bigger he still towered over her, he slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her toward his mouth. “Mine. To pleasure. Forever.”

“W-wait! Please.”

To her shock, he stilled, his lips so close to her skin his warm breath rolled across her thigh. His gaze returned to her as if her request had weight. As if her desires mattered.

“I-I don’t understand why this is happening. Why… why I feel as I do when you touch me. How I was able to float. Why you and I both now have markings on our wrists.”

“And at your throat. Like a collar.” His grip contracted against her hips. “Mine to leash. No matter how high you soar.”

She shivered. “B-But why?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? It is happening.” His calm only unnerved her more. “We will adjust.”

Adjust? That is all she had ever done. Adjust. Accommodate. Hide. That was the fate of the omega.

But that was before. Before she soared toward the sky. Before she almost eluded a beserketh. Before the pleasure of his touch showed her there could be more to her life than struggle, strife, and loss. “I don’t want to adjust!”

“But you will.” He dragged her hips higher.

Her breath hitched. Speech impossible.

Then, a shock of warm, wet heat and his tongue was on her.

She groaned, bucking under his hold, the tormenting wait over as he claimed her and set her soaring, just as before.

Taking his time, he circled her clit with the tip of his tongue, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring his favorite meal.

Then, without warning, he sucked, latching onto the bundle of nerves at her core.

She let out a scream. Part shock, part pleasure, one hundred percent need.

Her hips rocked against his jaw, needing more. “P-please.”

Grip contracting, he kept her in place. Licking. Sucking. “More.”

The binds at her wrists pulled taut as her lower body trembled under his siege and he took her to heights she’d never imagined.

His tongue invaded her channel, plunging deep. Ruthless. Relentless. Just like him.

Her back bowed, her body jerking as she screamed. But not in horror. No. Not even in pain. Her cry was one of intense pleasure. Of shocking, white-hot bliss.

His tongue was softer than the fuzz on a whest whillow, with small bumps that rolled over her clit in exquisite waves, winding the tension inside her higher and higher. The exquisite thrash of his tongue, a siege she never wanted to end.

“More.” He repeated the demand, using his hold to rock her deeper onto his tongue. Making her howl as he sucked harder.

Her head tossed from side to side, everything pulling tight as her body softened under the force of his will.

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