Page 49 of Storms of His Wrath

“So, say yes.”

She hesitated, her pulse thundering beneath his thumb, her scent thick with want and uncertainty.

Then, so quietly he almost missed it, “Yes.”

Akoro squeezed her throat tighter in response, triggering her instinctual need to submit to her Alpha. He watched her eyes go hazy and her entire body slacken against him, her surrender immediate and instinctive. The scent of it hit him hard—ripe, rich, impossibly intoxicating, working through his veins like a spark thrown onto dry kindling. Her surrender overwhelmed him, and suddenly nothing else mattered.

He slammed her back against the magically-reinforced thick canvas wall of the tent, tearing at her tunic with one hand, yanking her underwear down with the rough urgency of a male barely leashed. The fabric didn’t stand a chance.

“Don’t wear these again,” he growled into her ear, ripping them in two without hesitation.

She whimpered a nonsensical reply.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, positioning her legs around his hips, her thighs wide open for him, her curves molded to his body. Her slick smeared against his lower abdomen as he pressed her against the wall, the heat of her soaking into him. He didn’t remember freeing his cock—just that he was hard, aching, and already lined up against her slick folds, pulsing with the need to be inside his Omega.

He rubbed himself against her, dragging the head of his cock through her arousal again and again, teasing, savoring. Her noises turned frantic—needy whimpers, little pleading gasps that sent his control slipping with every breath.

When he finally pushed in, it was slow and deliberate. He watched her face as her cunt stretched around him, watched her eyes roll back and her lips part as a pretty, guttural groanescaped her. She twitched against him, tight and slick, gripping him like she never wanted to let him go.

He cursed low and filthy when he bottomed out, forced to brace himself against the wall just to survive the way her body clenched around him. He pulled her tunic higher, exposing her breasts, and taking his time, bent to feast on them. He sucked and licked, biting at the soft flesh until she writhed against him. Her nipples were hard under his tongue, her scent rising sharp and wet with each drag of his mouth.

But his little Omega couldn’t wait. She rolled her hips, arched her back, whimpered, moved her legs—anything for some friction. But it had been so long since he’d had her, Akoro was going to make sure he enjoyed this moment.

He drew his hips back and slammed them forward—deep, brutal, possessive. Pleasure shot through him, and Naya wailed, clinging to his shoulders, trying to accommodate his size even as he drove in again. And again. And again.

He built a ruthless rhythm, his powerful hips pounding into her with merciless force, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin and the breathless, broken sounds she made. The tent was filled with their carnal scent—heat and hunger, slick and sweat—the raw, perfect perfume of their coupling, signifying just how completely they belonged together.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deep. This was what he was made for. Her. This. The sound of her breath catching. The way her cunt sucked him back in every time he pulled out. The slam of his hips turned brutal and savage, her cunt so succulent, the frothy cream they created dripped down his balls, from how wet she was, how hard he was fucking her.

It was raw and rough, his need to claim her bordering on insane, and she took all of him, like the perfect Omega she was. His Omega.

Words tumbled from her lips—half-formed, delirious, wild. She licked his jaw, his shoulder, anything she could reach, small tongue flicks that only drove him closer to the edge. She hummed with delight, her toes curled against his back, her fingers digging into his flesh.

He gripped her harder, hooked her legs under his arms and grabbed her ass, using the leverage to pound into her at an angle that made her entire body bounce against the tent wall, burying himself to the hilt each time. The rush of ecstasy overwhelmed him, a mindless madness that seized his whole body. Her channel fluttered around him, tight and pulsing.

It was too much. Too fucking good.

He reached between them, found her swollen clit, and rubbed. She shattered immediately, a convulsing, clenching surrender. She went limp in his hold, slick gushing around him in a hot flood. But he didn’t stop. He held her there, pinned open, and kept thrusting—using her sweet little body to chase his own high.

She came again. Then again. Her cunt strangled his cock so tightly it felt like his whole body might break. Her slick ran down his thighs, sticky and perfect, and still, he didn’t slow.

When his orgasm finally hit, it tore through him violently. He roared, driving in hard, erratic, lost to everything but the mindless need to claim her completely. His knot surged, slamming into her with a final, punishing thrust. Her body resisted, stretched, then yielded, locking around him in a tight seal that made them one.

Growling against her throat, his hips ground as he emptied inside her in long, powerful spurts. His knot swelled fully, locking them together so deep there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere else he wanted to go.

He stayed there, breath ragged, body shuddering, knot pulsing inside her. Then carefully, he gathered her into his armsand lay her down on his sleeping blankets, careful not to jostle her on his knot, fixing her in his arms. His Omega cuddled into him, her breathing deep and hoarse, her eyes closed, her scent heavy with satisfaction.

Akoro allowed himself to memorize every detail—the way she fit against him, the way they smelled, the occasional twitch of her cunt, and how her breathing finally settled into something peaceful. The satisfied contentment in her scent made his purr erupt in his chest, and she pressed closer, humming and sighing.

But even in this moment of perfect completion, a fierce possessiveness burned through him, primitive and consuming. This—her pliant body molded against his, the mingled scent of their joining, the way she unconsciously sought his warmth—this was what he’d been created for. She completed him in ways that went beyond physical satisfaction, filled hollow spaces in his chest he hadn’t realized existed until she’d torn herself away from him.

He would never get enough. Not of her taste, not of her surrender, not of the way she responded to his dominance with such devastating perfection. A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be sufficient to satisfy his hunger for her.

Relief flooded through him, that she’d even agreed to this. That she would be his, at least for these precious days. He wouldn’t ask for more than that right now. She’d made it clear what she could give him, and he would take it like a desperate dying man. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have his own things to contemplate. He’d told himself he’d never become like his family under any circumstances, yet both his mate and brother had indicated that his single-minded pursuit of his people’s survival had somehow isolated him from the very people he sought to protect. Oppo even agreed that there was nothing else Akoro could have done differently, yet his brother still chose to hide a key part of his identity and experience from him. Maybe therewere other ways to ensure safety—ways that didn’t require such fierce control over everything and everyone around him. Akoro needed to reexamine what true protection meant, and reconnect with his brother. He may have already lost Naya, and that would burn him for the rest of his days.

So he would enjoy what he had right now. He would simply be her mate, her Alpha, nothing more complicated than the primal bond that called them to each other. This was what their connection could be when stripped of conquest and possession and political maneuvering—just this primal need they shared, free from the violence and subjugation that had poisoned it from the beginning.

He could do that, for now. He could be that for her.

---