Page 103 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

He slams in harder, dragging a wrecked gasp from my throat. “No, you don’t. You fuckinglovethis. Youneedthis,” he insists, squeezing just enough. “You need to be handled by your alpha.That’s why you’ve been acting up, isn’t it?”

I whimper; humiliated and undone, body flooding with slick as he ruins me right there in the middle of my fucking living room.

“You fight and you push and youlie,” he pants. “But this little pussy—” he slaps my ass, then my thigh, his cock still buried deep—“this knows who it belongs to.”

My head spins as the room tilts. I’m nothing but nerve endings and wet heat and ruined dignity.

“Filthy fucking omega,” he hisses, each word punctuated by the sharp snapping of his hips. “All that mouth and you’re still bending for me. Stilltakingit.”

He bites at my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, but not deep enough or tender enough to be a claim. I yelp, but it makes my cunt flutter around him—tight, desperate, and slick.

“See?” he sneers. “You like it when I’m mean. Youlikebeing put in your place.”

My body’s betraying me with every twitch of my hips, every pathetic whimper that slips free, every drop of slick that coats the base of his cock and my trembling thighs.

“You gonna cry?” he grits out. “Gonna sob like a good little slut while I fuck you stupid?”

His hand slips between my thighs, rubbing over my clit in hard, punishing circles; and my whine of pleasure rips from my throat like a confession.

He keeps going.

“Say it,” he demands, pounding into me. “Say you’re mine.”

I shake my head as I try to hold on, try to keep even one ounce of pride—

But Ican’t.

White-hot heat floods through my body as he pinches his fingers around my clit, and I’m moaning, crying, unraveling—clenching down around him, my body already knowing exactly how this ends.

And when he slams in deep and licks at my neck, voice gone dark and furious—

“You’re mine.”

It falls from my lips before I can stop it.

“…Yours.”

His growl is victorious; and then, he snaps.

“That’s my girl.”

His pace turns punishing—no rhythm now, justneed. The sharp slap of skin echoes through the living room, but all I can focus on is the filthy, slick drag of his cock inside me and the way my body keeps pulsing, still coming, stilltaking.

I sob out another moan, barely upright anymore, melting into the wall as his grip tightens. My scent-blocking patch is long gone, panties shredded on the floor, and I can feel the pressure building again; that deep, impossible fullness, that unmistakable stretch.

My eyes widen.

“Wes—”

“You know what’s coming,” he pants, his breath ragged and hot against my ear. “You feel it. Soaked and open for it. Ready to be knotted like the desperate little cunt you are.”

My whole body shudders in ecstacy at his words as he drops his forehead to the back of my neck, groaning low, the sound animalistic.

“Fuck, you smell sogoodlike this,” he growls, inhaling deep. “No more blockers. Justyou. Sweet and slick andmine.”

I can feel the base of his cock thickening, swelling at the root with every brutal thrust.

“No one else gets this,” he snaps. “Not Jace. Not Cam. You want to act like I’m the one who fucked it all up?Fine. ButI’mthe one who had you first.I’mthe one your cunt was made for.”

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