Page 24 of The Princess and the Pack

“Alpha,” I plead—longing andneedlaced in every letter.

His acknowledgment is a shaky exhale as he grabs his cock to press at my center. Then, a slight flex of his trim hips—just a testing, teasing thrust to breach the first tight inch of me.

“Fuck,” he huffs, his shoulders curling inwards as he grips my hips to steady himself before pushing forward. “I’ll die, Ivy.I’ll die inside of you. It’s too good.”

“Please don’t die,” I whine, arching my back. The movement is meant to entice him and distract myself from the delicious stretch each tentative drive brings. “Not before I’ve had my first knot.”

Cillian laughs, incredulous. “I’ll give you a knot, darling. As many as you damn well please.”

Then, a final stroke. Long, swift—powerful. The sensation pushes the breath from my lungs, only for my alpha to steal it with his lips. As he settles deep inside me, he drapes his body over mine, sealing this profoundly perfect moment with a kiss that’s both gentle and starving all at once.

Everything about the way we come together is bliss: the fullness of Cillian inside me, the way his lips call passion and reverence to mind, the slow rolling of his hips. I break our kiss for the sheer, overwhelming need to throw back my head and bare my neck to this alpha.

He spoke of worshiping me earlier, but I offer my supplication just the same—surrendering myself in the most vital way.

Cillian is panting, practically moaning at the offering, and wastes no time in decorating my throat with his devotion. Kissing, licking, and biting, but not so deep that the bond settles, all while he moves in me with unhurried, purposeful vigor.

“I’ll never recover from this, omega. You are everything.Moreeven. Beyond comprehension. When you’re ready, I’ll bite and bond you—never let you go.”

My head is swimming, my limbs loose as pleasure seeps like heated, liquid silk through my veins. All sense, everything I knew before is gone. In its place exists only this, only us.

“More, alpha,” I beg, needing to feel him spill inside me while I burst once more.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Cillian rasps.

He moves with shocking ease, wrapping his arms behind my back to flip the position of our bodies. He settles us so his back rests against the headboard, and I’m perched in his lap, facing him.

I feel like a queen on my throne. A beautiful fucking throne, indeed.

The look in my mate’s eyes is reverent,feral—like he’s traversing the line of wild surrender to the base part of his being. The alpha residing in his soul wants to break free and claim his omega bride.

His large hands grip my backside, moving me smoothly up and down the length of him. I’m hot everywhere all at once, mindless at the thought of being both used and savored.

When I tighten around him, Cillian’s eyes roll back, and he buries his face against my chest. There he bites, sucks—teases—my nipples, while relentlessly pounding into the wet heat of my sex. Everything but my alpha is a blur, and I’m no match for the magnitude of all he offers. As I shatter around him, all semblance of sanity is swept away by the waves of this unending pleasure.

“I’m going to knot you now, omega. Going to fill this sweet cunt.” He rambles with rapturous possession dripping from each word. “You’re mine. Do you understand? Mine to fuck. Mine to please. Justmine.”

The intrusion of his swelling knot as it locks into me has me screaming.Pleasure, pain, surprise—so all-consuming I can’t help butweep. His shallow, rough thrusts tease every sensitive nerve until the warmth of his release fills me—the rush of his breath warming my unbitten neck.

“I’ll cherish you until the end of time, Ivy. My beautiful fate.”

I can’t respond for fear of more tears and garbled nonsense. My body is leaden. My heart is full with this budding feeling of love, and my soul vibrates with the profound bliss that is having my fated alpha so thoroughly entranced by me.

It’s enough that I’m scared of the havoc losing him would reap on my heart. After this, I’m certain I would do almost anything to keep Cillian at my side.

I only hope this is not all some grand illusion. Is this how my mother felt for my father at first? Is that why she continued to welcome him into her arms after all his lies and indiscretions? Am I dooming myself to the same fate, or can I truly be this happy?

Soft kisses tickle my breasts, my neck, the corner of my mouth until I’m swept away from my catastrophizing by his soft lips. Cillian rocks me on his knot, sparking little bouts of bliss inside me. Moaning—spasming around him again, andagain, until I can no longer breathe.

“Perfect,” he whispers.

“Yes,” I manage at long last—breathless. “Yes, perfect.”

Cillian pulls back to regard me. His eyes are shining with pride—with tender love—and I almost feel shy for how intimate it is to be locked together in this way. Every subtle shift brings new pleasure—every kiss further binds me to my husband.

“Are you feeling thoroughly worshiped, goddess? Has your subject pleased you well?” Cillian muses, seeking praise.

Cheeky alpha.

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