Page 50 of Captive Mate
I didn’t respond to commands from alphas. Fuck that. But his voice reverberated through me, the vibrations calling to my instincts in a way no other alpha had managed to achieve.
“Please,” I gasped. “Yes, please, knot me, I want it, I want it so badly —”
Matthew cut me off with a kiss, taking my mouth and making it his. He shoved my thighs apart and settled between them, the head of his cock nudging behind my balls and rubbing over my hole, which was almost aching from how desperate I was to get him inside me.
I wrapped my arms around his back and lost myself in heat and pressure and want, more want than I’d felt in — possibly ever. Fuck, but I needed this. To submit for once, to give in and let someone else give me what I craved. Matthew teased me with a finger.
A dry finger. Fuck, I could fix that. I summoned more magic, complicated magic this time, drawing on the formulas inked into my arms. My power snaked down into the center of my body, leaving my ass perfectly clean and as slick as if I’d used a bottle of lube.
Matthew’s finger pressed in, and he hissed and jerked it back. “Magic,” I whispered. “All good.”
He let out a shaky laugh. “No arguments from me. Fuck. That shouldn’t be so hot.”
I smiled into his kiss, because — yeah, that was a little piece of magic I was particularly proud of.
He used two fingers to stretch me, his calluses sliding deliciously against my overheated, delicate flesh. Every stroke made me arch and groan.
“Now, or I’m going to flip you over, tie you down with magic ropes, and ride your knot myself,” I growled against his mouth.
He pulled his hand away, and I moaned, but I didn’t have more than a second to mourn the loss of his fingers before he’d put himself in position and filled me in one hard thrust. My eyes widened, and I stared up at him in shock: framed by the branches above us, his face was flushed, and his dark hair clung to his damp temples. He looked like he belonged there, as wild as the forest around us.
Matthew pulled his hips back and slammed into me again, my body shifting up the blanket with the force of it, and then again, and again, opening me up for him and spreading me apart.
It was perfect, and overwhelming, so deep and hard and hot, and he was over me, pinning me down…my heart rabbited, my breaths came fast and raspy, and my chest constricted.
“Stop, Matthew, stop!” My hands flew to his chest, fending him off, shoving at him, but it didn’t matter, he was too heavy and too big —
He pulled out of me, so quickly that I cried out.
“What happened? Did I hurt you?” I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners of them. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Iwantedthis. “Arik? Sweetheart, I won’t. Do you need me to — I won’t touch you.”
I finally caught a full breath, pulling it in as far as I could and letting it out slowly.
Then I could crack my eyes open and look at him.
He wasn’t angry. There was nothing in his face but fear and worry, and his hand was hovering over my leg like he wanted to comfort me but was afraid to hurt me.
“I needed to know you’d stop,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
And then I cringed, because that made it sound like a test. It hadn’t been, at least consciously. But still — it had been, sort of. And that made me such an asshole. I’d said I wanted it. Ididwant it. And I still made him stop. If he got up and grabbed what was left of his clothes and left me here, I wouldn’t blame him for it.
Or he’d launch into some overly careful, too-sensitive attempt to smother me with pity. If he did that, I’d hate him. No one pitied me without my getting pissed about it, not even me.
I braced myself for either — or even some fucked-up mix of both.
Instead, he just sat there on his heels, looking at me thoughtfully. “What’s going to be better for you, here?” he asked. “Do you want to keep going? Or do you want to get dressed and — I don’t know, sit for a while? Go find some breakfast, maybe? Because it’s your call.”
Something in my chest snapped a little, like ice breaking in the spring. My call. My decision. If he’d point-blank refused to have sex after this, that would’ve been as wrong as if he’d insisted on fucking until we got off. Either way, he would’ve been saying I was too broken to make up my own mind without him doing it for me.
He didn’t think I was broken. And he still wanted me.
I cleared my painfully dry throat. “Would we be eating breakfast together, in this scenario?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Absolutely. Bacon and eggs.”
I glanced down. He was still fully erect, and he was just…ignoring it — to talk to me about the breakfast menu.
Breakfast could wait.
