Page 169 of Knot Their Fated M.U.S.E

"Fuck yes, please," I gasp with desperation that bypasses tactical consideration in favor of honest need and biological craving. "I need it."

The admission emerges without conscious filtering or strategic calculation.

Pure desire manifested through verbal confession, acknowledgment of craving that transcends rational thought or practical consideration. Biological imperative demanding fulfillment through comprehensive connection and territorial claiming.

My words prove sufficient to shatter whatever restraint Sable maintained through judicial discipline.

With growl that shakes the reinforced walls, he adjusts positioning to pin me beneath his larger frame. The movement eliminates distance while providing leverage for deeper penetration and comprehensive dominance through physical positioning.

His pace transforms from measured strokes to desperate pounding that speaks to abandoned control and primal claiming.

Each thrust drives deeper than should be physically possible while creating friction that threatens to overwhelm consciousthought through pure sensory bombardment. The intensity transcends previous experience to encompass total biological engagement and designation fulfillment.

I brace myself against the institutional bedding as the climax approaches with inevitable force.

Pressure builds in my core with urgency that defies conscious control or tactical regulation, every nerve ending singing with anticipation of comprehensive release and territorial claiming. The approaching orgasm promises intensity that exceeds previous experience through proper Alpha technique.

Around us, the atmosphere thickens with concentrated pheromones that announce successful mating and pack formation.

Cardamom and cinnamon blend with leather, gunpowder, aged paper, and storm clouds, creating a cocktail that speaks to biological harmony and designation compatibility. The scent concentration reaches levels that transcend simple attraction to encompass territorial marking.

Sable's voice emerges rough with command authority despite obvious desperation and mounting urgency.

"Cum right now," he orders with judicial finality that transforms request into inevitable outcome through Alpha authority and pack dominance.

The command hits my nervous system like an electrical surge, triggering responses that bypass conscious control.

My climax explodes through nerve endings with devastating force while my cry echoes off reinforced walls with intensity that announces satisfaction to anyone within auditory range. Wave after wave of pleasure cascades through interconnected systems with comprehensive coverage.

Simultaneously, Sable reaches his own peak with a roar that speaks to territorial triumph and successful claiming.

His release fills my core with warmth while impressive length pulses with force that creates additional stimulation during my own climax. The timing proves perfect—synchronized satisfaction that speaks to designation compatibility and pack harmony.

Yet even as we both ride waves of climactic bliss, awareness registers additional presence and parallel satisfaction.

Riot's hand moves along his considerable length with desperate rhythm while his eyes remain fixed on our joining with predatory hunger. The visual stimulation of our mating proves sufficient to drive his own arousal beyond sustainable parameters.

"Fuck," he curses as his own release approaches through visual stimulation and atmospheric concentration of successful mating pheromones.

His climax hits with visible intensity as seed spills across his palm and impressive length.

The sight of his satisfaction alongside our own creates completion that transcends individual pleasure to encompass pack recognition and shared territorial claiming. Unity manifested through synchronized release and mutual appreciation.

But awareness of additional sensation building within my core draws attention away from Riot's parallel satisfaction.

Pressure increases around Sable's impressive length as something beyond normal dimensions begins developing at his base. The swelling creates tightness that borders on uncomfortable yet somehow promises satisfaction beyond previous experience.

Understanding crystallizes with a mixture of anticipation and concern as his knot begins forming.

The additional size creates pressure that challenges anatomical limits while promising complete connection andterritorial claiming. Yet physical accommodation seems impossible given current dimensions and obvious constraints.

The expanding knot fights against my entrance with force that creates sensation somewhere between pleasure and pain.

Each pulse increases the diameter while natural resistance provides opposition that creates exquisite tension. The pressure builds beyond comfortable parameters yet somehow remains within a tolerable range through careful timing and biological preparation.

"I don't think it'll fit," I gasp through sensation that threatens to overwhelm conscious thought despite growing desperation for complete connection and territorial claiming.

My concern emerges with honest vulnerability despite the obvious desire for comprehensive bonding.

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